Target has Missoni and Jason Wu. H&M has Versace and Marni. But only Tabby’s Place has Webster.
If you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time, you know about “Bags” (Bagheera). He was our first paraplegic cat and had an amazing personality. To our amazement and delight, he was adopted several years ago by a wonderful vet, Dr. M. Given the recent adoption of our second paraplegic, Tashi, and the […]
Your eyes do not deceive you. Nor did I type this after my 7th cosmopolitan. This is all about the bokeh of a certain North Jersey city.
What a piece of work is cat. One comes to Tabby’s Place “feral,” untouchable and uninterested in humanity (as the story goes). One comes to the sanctuary with a rap sheet of offenses, all in the general bucket of “attempting to annihilate one’s own species.” And then they both just decide to start over.
A little over 3 years ago, Geri arrived at Tabby’s Place a frightened and angry feral cat. She didn’t want us anywhere near her, and she really didn’t want us anywhere near her brother Ben.
Dear hearts, the day has come. If you want to plunge head-first into the Dot matrix, you can be her sponsor.
Just when we think we’ve grasped the cats’ calling… Just when we think we’ve seen the full scope of their mission on earth… Along comes a whiff of grace so delicious it knocks us off our feet.
…she’s loved. And she’s so very extraordinary. The best is yet to come, Dot. That goes for this blog, too: stay tuned for further Dottaliciousness next week.
Contrary to the old adage, timing isn’t everything. Not exactly. Cupcakes are something, and so are wombats and stirrup pants. But sometimes, timing is downright divine. It’s all happening again.
Before you read this post, there are a few things you need to know. Consider it a Surgeon General’s warning, only minus the Surgeon General and plus a lot of cat hair. You can’t eat Nutter Butters if you’re allergic to peanuts. You can’t drive a tractor if you’re three years old. You can’t get […]