Guest post: Bosco time

Guest post: Bosco time

Editor’s note: Oh, kittens, are you in for a scrumptious surprise today.

None less than Rocket‘s eminent adopter, Kelley, has joined the Tabby’s Place family of volunteers. Today, she’s set her sights and her soaring literary gifts on one Bosco Rosenberg. From this day forward, I aspire to live in Bosco time. I think you will, too.

Settle in for a triumphant treat. — XO, AH

Depending on who you ask, the internet can be a wonderful thing. Also, the internet can be a scary thing. I am sure we can all agree that it’s a wonderfully scary thing.

The internet can give your teenage son an unlimited amount of videos and memes that make an older generation happy that we grew up in a time that wasn’t broadcasted 24/7.  It can bring stories of pandemics and hurricanes, sad stories that pull on your heartstrings.

But, just then, when you think they can’t be pulled any further in that direction…the internet brings you cat pictures! Cat videos! Groups for people to talk about their cats. But more importantly, with these it brings friends.

For me, the internet gave me purpose. It gave me a passion for the life of a rescue volunteer. It gave me a place to give some of my time to make a difference. It gave me a place to shine.

I was always that geeky girl who sat against the wall at the dance, or at a lunch table alone. I was the one who mentally tried to will others to come talk to me, never having the courage to speak first. I was that cat who hid under the chair wanting attention, but never seeking it out.

I was never Bosco.

Bosco didn’t wait for me to make the first step towards friendship. He didn’t have time for that. In Bosco time, the three minutes I spent on the other side of the door from him was already too long. He was there waiting for me to reappear. Had he owned a boom box, I am sure it would have been raised above his head.

In Bosco time, there is no hate. Bosco time is love. Bosco reminds you, with his crinkled ear and bright eyes, that every minute not loving on him is a minute wasted. In Bosco time, you are beautiful, you are majestic, you are wonderful.

Best of all, none of these stem from the fact that you have opposable thumbs.

I wished we all saw someone from the other side of a room, made them our new friend, and wasted no time to inform them of such.

I wished we all lived in Bosco time.

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