Leave no cat unloved

Leave no cat unloved

“New” is notable. “New” makes lists. “New” sells.

“Old” waits. “Old” knows. “Old” holds onto keepsakes.

You are reading this because you hold hands with “old.”

Harvey will be the first to compliment your haute couture and nouvelle cuisine. Harvey likes your brazen blazer and your jaunty jeans and your LET’S PARTY hat with the tag still on it. (Harvey thinks you should keep the tag on it. Harvey thinks that’s funny.)

Harvey likes everything about you. But Harvey hopes you like the fact that he is no longer new.

Harvey had harvested years by the handful long before we met him. Already eartipped, he was no longer early to any party. Already exhausted, he was right on time to wake for the first time.

One night, he lay down in a bed of patchy grass. The next day, he arose in arms that would not let him go. His dozen years all giggled together. His youth ended, and his Everything began.

Old and holey, held and holy, Harvey was a Tabby’s Place cat.

Count his stripes, and you won’t find a signature line for shame. Harvey has no ambivalence about his age, no apology for his wrinkles and rumples and disinterest in anything resembling a “rumpus.” Harvey has no desire to be the crop top on the mannequin in the window.

Harvey is the hoodie you reach for when the cold sets in. Harvey is the sweater that wraps you when the sun sets early and the fire is low. Time has worn Harvey soft as suede, and time placed Harvey in a warm nest.

Time was not a moment too soon, for Harvey arrived in urgent need. His ear, so ready to catch our tales and our weeping, was ill-clad in cancer. If he was to have any hope, he would need to have surgery.

Surgery is costly and inconvenient even when the patient is a kitten you know well. But a tabby tattered by years? An old hand, brand new to our arms?

Yes, because of you.

Yes, because of the Linda Fund.

Harvey is here. Harvey is healing. Harvey is Harveying the hours with the new hope of the treasured old.

Old and ailing, love prevailing, Harvey is a Tabby’s Place cat.

But you are reading this because you have warmed yourself at the hearth of “old.” The world brings the holey hoodie to Goodwill, but you are good all the way to twilight.

You are the givers who shelter the young and renew the old. You are the lovers who crush the calculator and rush in with armloads of grace. You are the only reason we can say yes, and yes, and yes, and yes, to Prescott, and Sunny, and Gulliver, and Harvey.

Mighty and merciful, selfless as sunlight, you are Tabby’s Place people.

The 2023 Linda Fund Matching Challenge was set to end today, but we don’t believe our people and our cats are done. I will admit to you that this year’s goal was as outrageous as the love of an ancient cat. If we get this right, this will be the biggest Linda Fund in Tabby’s Place’s 20-year history.

We have not yet met all the cats we will love and be loved by.

We have not yet learned all the ways the world can become new.

Will you let an old cat lead you today?

Gentle and generous, ageless as love, you are Tabby’s Place people.

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