Editor’s note: This is the second in a series of posts in which we hand you our holiday wish list and stare into your eyes until you are uncomfortable.
Hopefully, uncomfortable enough to give us what we ask.
I am once again asking you to break our hearts.
We are all a little more honest in winter, prone to eat our weight in artichoke dip and tell our cousins that we still think they are really cool.
So there is no use hiding the truth from you.
We want intensely for you to adopt our favorite cats. We want intensely for you to not adopt our favorite cats.
But the first want is the winner, which leaves us with one request.
We want you to break our hearts. You will succeed instantly if you adopt Oram.
Oram succeeds at all he attempts. Oram has never failed, fallen short, or flopped. Oram was the inspiration for the song “All I Do Is Win.” This is because Oram’s sole goal is to be more and more Oram.
If this sounds easy, you do not know Oram.
Actually, I already know that you do not know Oram, because if you did, you would have adopted him.
Oram is a cat of unmatched ambition. Having been born infinitely Oram, he has the audacity to strive to become more Oram. He would also like to start an all-tuba band called “Infinitely Oram,” but that is another story entirely.
If you are looking to break my heart, you should adopt Oram. If you are looking to break a brick in two, you should place Oram upon it, for he weighs more than many dinosaurs.
If you are looking to break a record, you should place yourself in the orbit of Oram and see how quickly you go from “zero” to “joyous.” If you are looking to break ground on a better world, you should become more like Oram.
Prior to arriving on this planet, Oram puzzled over which color cat he would like to be. Although the record says he came from a rescue group, Oram is from a star where everything is all the colors, all the time.
Oram could not live with the thought of leaving any color behind. So Oram leapt through a neon nebula, collecting every shade on the spectrum until they turned him brilliantly black. But then he said something slaphappy that made the nebula giggle, and in the last instant, it jiggled his tail, which is why the last inch of Oram is iridescent white.
I am telling you the truth. If it sounds imaginary, you do not know Oram.
Oram is anxious to address this. In the quest to become more Oram, Oram’s top task is for you to know Oram.
Oram has never encountered a “you” that he didn’t want to tuck into “us,” as in “us superstars, you and your ol’ pal Oram!”
It is commonly assumed that Oram’s best pal was Tucker, and this is not exactly wrong. Our prehistoric frat boys walloped each other with the love reserved for soul brothers.
Oram misses his Tucker terribly, which makes your choice to adopt him all the more poignant.
Meanwhile, Oram’s Oramagnitude involves disproving everything earthlings assume about feline leukemia virus (FeLV).
People say FeLV+ cats are frail, so Oram makes sure to super-size himself.
People say FeLV+ cats are delicate, so Oram impersonates all the action heroes at once.
People say FeLV+ cats are sad, so Oram attempts to fit the entire universe inside his mouth, which occasionally includes human hands and fingers (and has caused us to put him on a behavior medication).
But the infinitude named Oram is too vast to be discouraged. As his wait stretches on, Oram’s effervescence grows. The cat of all colors has a soul of pure seltzer, and he is ready to bubble over when you open your arms.
I cannot imagine Tabby’s Place without Oram, and his adoption will break my heart. But like the glowing white tip of his tail, Oram will leave one last victory. My sadness will be swallowed up in technicolor joy, for Oram and for you.
Please adopt him.
Please break our hearts.