It’s Advent. It’s December. It’s the time of the season when the cats and I are up to our whiskers in your kindness.
Has it ever occurred to you that giving thanks is a radical act? That’s radical as in courageous maverick pioneer, not Point Break.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry that, by titling this post as it is titled, I’ve infected your brain with the Fanta commercial song.
Every once in a great while, we receive an offer so compassionate, so compelling, so colossal, that we simply must share it with you. This week, we’ve received the most unstinky of offers.
These are trying times, kittens. We need something stronger than painted smiles to get through the day. Stronger than scotch-spiked espresso. Stronger, even, than cats with lemon helmets.
We regularly discuss cats’ skill at being “in the moment.” Where we fret and stew and itch and agitate about the past and the future and the if and the maybe, cats stretch out full-length in the “is” and the “here” and the “now.”
This week in the U.S., we honor those who served. This week every second of every hour of every day at Tabby’s Place, we honor those who serve are served.
This can be a funny time of year. Not funny-ha-ha; funny like Election Day, or hemorrhoids, or ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife.
I’m sure this occurs to you all the time. In fact, it’s so obvious, it barely merits mention: Cats have a lot in common with the people of the Trobriand Islands.
Age cannot eclipse elegance. Cancer cannot quell a heart of fire. And Raquel Welch cannot compete with Raquel Rosenberg.