Forgive us, kittens, for we have lied.

Forgive us again, for we feel no remorse.

In our defense, we spend our days among beings who don’t “get” guilt. Cats are inoculated against shame. Their egos are slick with regret-repellent. Absolution is never their solution.

So forgive us a third time, for we have joined their revolution.

We have told you that we don’t have “favorites” at Tabby’s Place. We have lied.

We have spoken these words while stealing glimpses of our favorites right over your shoulder. “Oh no, we love all one hundred fifteen the same!” We tell you this. “We don’t have favorites!”

It is a lie. It is also true.

Is it favoritism if your “favorite” fluctuates by the hour, a spastic Geiger counter of devotion?

Is it favoritism if your “favorite” flaunts the reasons he would be “unfavorable” elsewhere?

Gator is our favorite. Gator snorts when he hears that some people prefer kittens. Gator snorts, because snorting is what rose-gold warthogs do. Gator says kittens are fine, if you’re looking for party favors or hinky trinkets. Gator savors being a hooligan heartthrob.

Gator smacks elderly neighbors for reasons he guarantees are reasonable. For instance, Steven pronounces the third day of the week “Wed-ness-day,” and Betty once disagreed with the indisputable fact that Gator is Matthew McConaughey.

Betty persisted in her wrongness even after Gator pointed out that no one has ever seen Gator and Matthew McConaughey in the same room at the same time. Anyone who does that favors a smack upon the tuckus whilst running away.

Gator is getting older, bolder, and ever more excited to be exasperating. Gator is our favorite.

Hazey is our favorite. Hazey feels an obligation to her name. Hazey knows that “Jonathan” means “Gift of God,” and “Gator” means “Matthew McConaughey,” and “Hazey” means “She Who Hazes Freshmen.” Hazey has never met a living creature who is not a freshman.

Hazey’s moods have moods, and they invite their step-moods, half-moods, and great-grand-moods for breakfast. Hazey holds court in the solarium and pretends she is an all-seeing sausage. Hazey bites and cuddles and dreams of her coronation. Hazey reminds us that she has doctorates in both despotism and being a dainty darling.

Hazey contains multitudes, and she shakes them like a snow globe until we have no idea what we’re looking at, only that it’s beautiful. Hazey is our favorite.

Arnold is our favorite. Arnold writes letters to former Gov. Schwarzenegger and the Arnold Bread Company to congratulate them on being Arnolds. Arnold writes letters to Jonathan, since Arnold is no longer allowed in Jonathan’s office. Jonathan writes letters to Marcia, since Arnold once lived with Marcia. Marcia puts them in the litter box, since Arnold once attempted to terminate her.

Arnold lives in the Adoption Office, where he becomes liquid licorice love while supervising our Adoptions Team. Arnold is an ardent admirer of the Adoptions Team. Arnold’s favorite foods include shy cats, human forearms, and provolone. Arnold loves with the heat of a thousand suns. One of them is that sun in Super Mario Brothers 3, that zaps you with lasers while you run.

Arnold is as predictable as Powerball, which is to say that Arnold is waiting for the adopter who has hit Powerball. Arnold is our favorite.

Do not get me wrong.

I am not saying that the breezy cats and the buoyant cats are any less our favorites. The kittens, in their celestial cuteness, are our favorites. Pure-hearted Pepita is our favorite. Queen Prescott the Great and Good is our favorite.

(True fact: I recently realized I have more framed photographs of Prescott in my house than I do of my favorite uncle. I regret nothing.)

But the truth is out in the open, right there in the solarium, next to the great golden whale who thinks he is Matthew McConaughey.

If you are a “challenging” cat, in need of accommodations and constant affirmation, you are our favorite.

If you have been evicted from elsewhere because of your egomania, welcome to Eden.

If you keep our Behavior Team on retainer, and it takes our full powers to keep you calm and content, pax vobiscum, dude.

Yes, we have favorites.

Yes, we tell you otherwise.

Please, don’t tell any of our favorites that other favorites are our favorites.

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