Old cats and wild geese
A goose landed on the spire of my church one morning. And he stayed. And he stayed. And he shouted. And he made me think of Winston, and you, and me.
A goose landed on the spire of my church one morning. And he stayed. And he stayed. And he shouted. And he made me think of Winston, and you, and me.
Development Dunderhead’s note: if ever you wonder about Simba‘s shimmering, spectacular mother Tara, prepare for your wonderings to turn into wonderfuls. Our beloved volunteer and Simba-scribe is, despite our protests, still in Colorado. But she’s also still here…as we always say, “once a Tabby’s Place cat, always a Tabby’s Place cat.” But don’t take it […]
Editor’s note: You will observe, observant kittens that you are, that your regularly scheduled Kitty Le Fey Wednesday post no longer bears the preface “Guest Post.” Kitty, intergalactic volunteer and writer of celestial proportions, is no guest. She is, to the contrary, the best. She is also here to stay. So in celebration of Kitty’s […]
Tearstained preface: this post, written weeks ago, was not meant to be a “Forever Loved.” Bartholomew, the improbable bard and ballast of the Development Office, was never “meant” to survive past a few weeks…but he did, with tenderness and derring-do. Which meant the blind, deaf seer was never meant to leave us. But that’s what […]
To the naked eye, Tabby’s Place appears to be a cat sanctuary. A special cat sanctuary, certainly. One-of-a-kind. Sensational. Smitten with specifically those cats the world forgot. But Tabby’s Place is more than it appears: an outpost of love. A living, purring, peeing parable. A tumbler of timeless truths. And a place where August can […]
It’s all well and good for riverside clothes washers to use a scrubbing board to get the soap in, the dirt out, then the soap out of the wash. Afterward, though, the water-soaked items need to be wrung out enough to dry on a line or on a rack. (At Tabby’s Place, we know how […]
I want to go to the planetarium. I want to buy a new bath towel. I want everything to remain exactly the way that it is, and I want everything to change for the better. I don’t know what I want. If I were a certain cat, this would not worry my little mind.
These moments are our lives, you know. The moments that feel like dandelion puffs. The moments that feel like submarines. The moments we wish away or try to hurl out of the way. The moments when we’re Bart, and the moments when we’re Glenn.
You are on a journey through space and time. No, you aren’t in The Twilight Zone. You are somewhere far more interesting, vastly more magical, and eminently more real. You have entered Tabby’s Place: A Cat Sanctuary. You are here with me. It’s a Friday. Let’s go! We’ll start by swinging wide the big, blue […]
Funny thing about loneliness: like government, the cosmos, or a consumer of chicken nuggets, it tends to enlarge itself. Funnier thing about loneliness: it can end when we’re ready.