We at Tabby’s Place: A Cat Sanctuary are in service to those who have been worshiped as gods. They know it. We know it.
They are cats, after all, and their expectations were established millennia ago. Generally speaking, I’m a skeptic. But, then again, there are Theodosia and Atari.
Technically, the name Theodosia means “divine gift.” This tiny furball clad in soft grey is definitively divine. She is also a complete gift with all the wrappings, trappings, and ribbons. She is also sweeter than ambrosia, the food of the gods, especially the gooey, coconuty, fruity dessert version of ambrosia. But, when you’re a cat, sweet can be highly situational. After all, there is no fury like a cat with scorn.
Atari, fellow Coat Room resident, is herself a glorious treat in black and white, a divine presence with which we are greatly graced. Theodosia is not thrilled about having even such a stellar cohabitant. Fortunately, Atari and Theodosia mostly enjoy occupying different realms. Theodosia rules the land. Atari reigns from the heights. That is to say, on any given day, Theodosia can be found happily hanging out at floor-level, often upon the lap of a warm, gentle human.
Meanwhile, Atari will be ensconced upon her lofty bed in a cat tree or lording it over Theodosia’s nighttime crate. Atari prefers being left to sleep a very lot and to receive minimal pets under extraordinarily close scrutiny (N.B., Atari is very sweet too, she simply has limits, mostly relating to how recently cleaning activities have been completed and how many people have previously disturbed her slumbers with their comings and goings.).
We, the people of Tabby’s Place, respect the divine rights exercised by both Theodosia and Atari. We respect their requests for attention or non-attention accordingly. Of course, our spectacular staff have greater challenges than our fantastic volunteers, as they are sometimes required to pay attentions that any and all of our resident felines resist and resent in equal proportions. Nevertheless, it is the honor and the responsibility of caregivers to give caringly, even when recipients would simply rather not be given things such as pills, injections, pedicures, and butt baths (Oh! The humiliation!). These things are simply the opposite of divine, and I’m editing out some of Atari’s and Theodosia’s more choice language for such things. (You would not believe what they ask me to write. It’s enough to make the hardest hearted person swoon, and none such persons exist within the Tabby’s Place community.)
What in real factual actuality would be utterly divine for these Divinities of the Coat Room would be for each of them to be worshiped under separate roofs by separate families where each one would reign supreme. For supreme they are: supremely feline, supremely sweet, and supremely superlative in every imaginable way.
Theodosia and Atari may not prefer each other. Theodosia and Atari may not prefer residency in a high-activity coat room. But, a forever home? When Theodosia and Atari each find their permanent people, they and everyone who loves them (that is absolutely everyone who knows them) will be divinely, delightedly gobsmacked.