There is a special kind of fire burning steadily in the heart of Tabby’s Place. The sanctuary is a welcoming haven for felines from situations that perhaps would best not be dwelt on. Yet, these situations are just the beginnings of the many stories that are bound within.
Charles Dickens himself could not write the kinds of stories that unfold on the site of a former cornfield where, now, felines bloom. So, with frost glittering on the gathered leaf piles, the time is perfect to snuggle up with a hot cup of cocoa and wallow in all of the warmth and wonder that overflows in a special building located in Ringoes, New Jersey. And, so we begin.
The first story is, albeit brief, doubtlessly one you’ve heard before. It is a tale of a tail that has gone missing from an absolute hippopotamus of a cat. Hips is smaller than he was when he first earned the nickname. That’s because the lobby was turned into a reduced-treat-zone. Yet, Hips’ appetite for attention – to give and receive – is entirely unbounded, as is his energy store (kind of like a looseleaf binder whose leaves are unbound leaving papers strewn every which where). One page of the book of the stories of the ages tells of how Hips was sent to Tabby’s Place by angels IRL. He himself is no angel, but our love for him is absolute.
Turn the page for yet another tale, one that may be less familiar. It is the story of a hidden treasure that was found and brought to the sanctum sanctorum. It is the story of a gem, who is none other than our shining Ruby. She came to Tabby’s Place due to a diabetes diagnosis (She also carried along her full blown case of the hangries.). Ruby shares the lounge – reluctantly – with three other cats who also share her diagnosis. Visiting with her is always a sweet treat…unless it’s almost time for her next meal. Beware! Ruby might just steal your heart while she’s grouching about the lateness of her lunch (maybe she’ll have already done it when she popped her paw on your knee to ask, “What’s up?”).
Meanwhile, in a room relatively far away (as things go in one fair-sized building), another story is still in its earliest drafts. The tale is of Roberta, who wishes you wouldn’t notice her. BUT…Roberta spends a lot of time in front of the hallway window in her shy-guys FIV+ suite. Since she is blind, it is unlikely that Roberta is aware that she spends much of her days in full view of visitors, staff, and volunteers. What she certainly does know is that her bed is always cozy, and her belly is always full. What we are discovering is that Roberta is spending less and less energy on hissing at us (We’re still proceeding slowly with our nervous friend.). And, we know how very many possible turns that her story can take, so we’re reading on to see how her tale will unfold. One thing is quite clear: every single version begins and ends with love.
In fact, every story about Tabby’s Place cats begins and ends in that exact same way, with love. For that matter, so does every hour, day, week, month, and year. So, here, with the embers of December glowing in the hearth, we will add fuel to the warming fire.
January will be encouraged to come in ablaze, filled with high hopes and expectations of another round of tales that will be gathered, cherished, and recalled when their time comes. For now, though, it’s time to reflect on and bask in the glow of the year that we are about to leave behind. Enjoy the read…and that cup of cocoa.