No one gets out of November unscathed: not you, not me, and not the star-crossed onions who gave their lives to surf your Aunt Lurlene’s green bean casserole.
Elections cause feelings. Thanksgivings cause feelings. The last chrysanthemum falling to the ground? The poet trees turned naked as prose? Feelings. Feelings. Feelings.
The only cure for feelings is bigger feelings. Fortunately, Tabby’s Place has Suite A.
It was sometime between post-election feelings and pre-Thanksgiving feelings when I stumbled into our shyest suite at Tabby’s Place. On my best day, I am about as graceful as a warty gourd. But this time, I was as tempest-tossed as a sailor in the winds of November.
I do not know what sent me to Suite A, only that I was sent.
If I were seeking comfort, I would have turned to Trifecta. If I needed to hear a good joke, I would have asked Juel. If I needed stripes strong enough to soak up my tears and then tell me to snap out of it, I would have curled up with Prescott.
But Suite A is the harbor of the hesitant, a cul-de-sac for the quiet and concerned. These are the colony cats, anxious expatriates of two large, sickly colonies. We rescued 138 this summer and fall, but news travels slowly from body to spirit.
It takes an instant to be saved, but a lifetime to feel safe.
Unless you throw all caution to the wind. Even the winds of November.
I did not expect the Suite A cats to welcome me. I did not particularly expect anything, since I was in some sort of sentimental stupor. But I got on the floor, which is rarely a bad idea. I did nothing valiant or lovely. Nevertheless, brave friends Chromium, Aluminum, and Gallium came to my aid. They took a chance on me.
They have been through so much, with so little reason to trust. Yet they gave themselves over to the moment and its kindness.
I was awash in love. It was a healing time. I will never forget it. I will thank them by trying to be more like them.
I am grateful that we all got to do November together:
Arrived: Rambo, Claudius, Cordelia, Penny, Ribeye, Velcro, Cleveland, Lucy, Dragonfly, Farley, Wren, Lark, Sparrow, Finch, Scooby, Firefly, Canary, Archer, Merlin, Hawk
Adopted: Freddy; Mr. Mustache; Kai; Katie & Violet (together); Jack; Fig & Kumquat (together); Electron; Michelangelo; Kiwi & Tangelo (together); Guava; Soursop; Cavatappi & Breadsticks (together); Quark; Ella; Pitaya & Pomelo (together); Timothy; Mugsy; Bambi; Stromboli & Amber (together); Smudge; Chucho; Kenzo; Suede & Cashmere (together); Osprey
Forever Foster Fabulosity: Margarita (with the golden-hearted Drew); Sky (with the selfless Jae); and Chaz (with the extraordinary Karina)
Promoted to the Community Room: Itsy Bee
Recaptured by the Community Room: Rori, whose Lobby sojourn was short but spectacular (and whose Comm Room compadres are happy to have her back)
Promoted to the Lounge: Ruby
Reunited With His Family: Tank, whose approximately 11 seconds at Tabby’s Place were long enough for us to become smitten
Promoted to Heaven: Forever Fosters Wario and Evelyn; TNR sweeties Rambo and Todd; Rashida
Stuff We Learned: If it looks like a president and it purrs like a president, it must be a president, which is why Tabby’s Place has one hundred fifteen commanders in chief. The state of the sanctuary is sound.
And now, we enter Level 12 of 2024. We made it, kittens. And come what may in the year’s last chorus, we will all be together when the new song begins. If Gator has its way, it will be some sort of acid metal accordion concerto. Prescott is more into Springsteen these days. But all of us love you dearly. Bring it on, December.