People who are trying to sell you something will often promise they’ve got “something for everyone.” Usually, this is about as factual as the promise, on the back of those things where you use a magnet to give a cartoon guy a beard with metal shavings, that you will have “hours and hours of fun.”
If you’ve seen gorgeous photos on this blog, you’ve seen the work of our uber-volunteer, Jessica. But did you know that, in addition to photographic eminence, Jess also has (a) a flair for wonderful writing and (b) one very lucky Tabby’s Place cat of her own?
They were feral…ish. They were identical. They were not ready for prime time.
Once again, sweet friends and friars, Catoberfest cometh. This means that I will be spending much of my time in a cone of silence getting things ready for the online auction starting September 17th. And this means that, in place of the musings of the insane, you will get a feast of gratuitous cat photos […]
With all apologies to Jordin Sparks, this post has nothing to do with the new diva movie. It has everything, however, to do with a one-eyed diva cat.
Tabby’s Place has a lot in common with New York City. I don’t mean the fashion, the graffiti or even the undying affection of Woody Allen. I mean the neighborhoods.
He’s jammin. Yeh. He wants to jam it wid’ you. He’s jammin. And he hopes you like jammin too.
FYI for you VIPs: alphabet soup can be a V.V. good thing. I don’t mean the CIA, the FBI, NASA or even a can of condensed Campbell’s. Today we delight in the letters of a certain cat quartet.
It’s a shame that people-names can’t be as wild and woolly as the feline kind. Just once I’d love to meet a human bean named Squidward. Give me a friendly neighborhood pharmacist named Hocus, or a mail carrier called Hootz. At least throw me a Eugene Buddle-Lubbers or Upton Lipton.