Soft feet
Dulcie, Dulcie, they did not speak in dulcet tones. The hours and the minutes had gravel in their throats. The inches and the miles scraped your soft toes.
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Dulcie, Dulcie, they did not speak in dulcet tones. The hours and the minutes had gravel in their throats. The inches and the miles scraped your soft toes.
To my dear Tabby’s Place Family, You are loved and appreciated more than all of the very many following words can adequately express. This is a meager attempt to tell you why.
There is a safety feature on my insulin pump called “Suspend Before Low.” It is remarkably feline.
“Nervous, but easy to handle.” Such was Mullet‘s description on his Intake Exam. Nothing can make today easy to handle.
So here we stand, at the end and the beginning. Cats know that there are only ever beginnings. Cats know many things beyond our reach. But they are gentle, and permit us to believe in figments — endings, the concept of “age appropriate,” the existence of credible vegan cheese — as long as necessary. Perhaps […]
We’ve come full circle again. The year-end festivities are done, and the nascent new year is under way.
Today, confetti on our noses, everything is new. We are bubbling champagne kittens. We are unfettered by the past. We want to believe this is true. But the truth is even better than the new.
I would like to kiss the New Year, but I can’t reach that high. I would like to glimpse what’s next, but I can’t open my eyes that wide. So I will simply sit here, on the floor, with the cats, telling stories.
You may be full of yule log today. You may be full of ill-advised eggless nog. Your living room may be full of Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles. Be assured: you are not as full as a cat.
As the year wanes, fading into the shortest days, we reflect on what has passed. At the same time, looking toward the new year, we look forward to the promise of another beginning.