What does 2026 know, that 2025 can’t imagine? How big can we dream, here on the porch swing between two years?
It is a grand thing to love every cat. It is an glorious thing to love one cat.
There is a special kind of fire burning steadily in the heart of Tabby’s Place.
Do you hear it, kittens? Do you feel it, when you lay your hand upon your heart?
We hold our breath on Christmas Eve. Can the promises hold our weight, though we are not kittens anymore? Can we hang onto all we believed, though are arms are full of grown-up things?
In December, we all wonder if we are making the “right” choices. What will we give everyone? Where will we go on New Year’s Eve? What is proper etiquette when Aunt Mafalda finds a cat hair in her mashed potatoes? Meanwhile, Chester‘s holiday season hangs on one choice alone.
Ricky and Twix will gladly accept catnip bananas. Buttery-soft blankets will not be returned to sender. (Neither will half-gallon tubs of butter.) Feel free to send them corn dogs, cheese logs, and flounder quarter pounders. But all they really want for Christmas is just to be fellas.
If you believe you are homely, you will be lonely. But if you believe you are home, you will be lovely. Take it from two tabbies.
This is a public service announcement, exclusively for beautiful people. Are you looking for two shy cats? Yes, as a matter of fact, you are. Of course you are. We have already established that you are beautiful people.