If cats had opposable thumbs, they would spray squeeze-cheese on every conceivable surface. They would also pick up twigs.
Continued from yesterday… The countess, it turns out, was made of music, equal parts Edith Piaf and Joan Jett, opera and rock and roll and lyrical liquid honesty. (“O! I AM HUNGRY. O! I am here. O! I am AWAKE. O! you are gnarly. O! we should print meat. O! New Jersey is CRACKIN’. O! […]
It’s not easy being a countess at a cat sanctuary. But when you’re as easy to love as Consetta, you find your way.
Contrary to what you may have been told, the facts are not flat. They are, however, flats and sharps.
Here comes the holiday season, the time when we all feel a little festive and a little fragile. The truth is, we are more and less fragile than we think. But when music is mortar and cats are skylights, we are more earthquake-proof than we fear.
The first thing that comes to mind when thinking about elephants is not usually pumpkins. That is, unless you’re thinking about a zoo, specifically, the Oregon Zoo in Portland.
Continued from Friday… Charm’s entire course had changed. But Charm had not changed.
Kozmo Rosenberg is a dynamo. I know because I’m a dynamo too, or so I’ve been told. The thing about dynamos – the figurative kind – is that they are super energetic and seem to never stop moving. Anyone who knows Kozmo knows this to be completely and 100% totally true.
You probably assume the best part of this business is the cats we get to meet. And you’re right, except you need to define “cats” a bit more broadly.
If you’re reading these words, you have endured. You have endured being born onto a blue-green gazing ball, a world that serves you pie and pain and perplexity at every turn. You have endured the inability to marry Crinkle Bob. (This is a suffering we share collectively. Support group meets at 7pm every Tuesday.) You […]