Staying little is one of the bravest feats on Earth.
Only a big heart will attempt it.
Olivia has the biggest heart in the land.
We won’t hold it against you if you don’t know Olivia. She was born the color of Cheetos, but she prefers pastels.
You will not find Olivia swinging from the chandeliers in Suite E. The big names command your attention. Shaggy will skid down the ramp, breathless and bawdy. If he could speak, he would be shouting, “You’re gnarly!” Juel‘s googly eyes are always gabbing. They show off and shove each other out of the way. They will not let you leave until you remember their names.
All the while, Olivia lives little.
Her name means, simply, “olive tree.” She did not ask to be neon, although no sunrise can compete. She is a cat of average size, middle age, and modest aspirations. She sees her reflection in the water bowl and is comforted to be little old Olivia, soft as the slippers you’ve had since high school.
Olivia came from an outdoor colony. She is still excited that she gets to keep warm. Let the bored and the brazen demand motorized toys and elk mousse. The sameness of safety is all the adventure Olivia needs.
For a cat in awe, there is nothing ordinary.
There is fresh food delivered within the same fifteen minute window, twice a day. You can tuck your nose in the folds of a mystic material called “fleece.” Some fleece is printed with persons named Spider-Man and SpongeBob. Long, tall cats without tails walk around on their hind legs, filling fountains and flowing with compliments.
They tell Olivia she is beautiful. They keep coming back.
For someone big and important, it would all get rather routine. But Olivia stays small, so everything remains a ritual.
Walk around the desert long enough, and you will be grateful for the humble olive tree. It will not pierce the clouds, but it will give you shade.
Stumble through the dusty world into Suite E, and eventually you will notice Olivia. She will not vault into your lap, but she will give you peace.
Peace is Olivia’s to give, because she does not take anything for granted.
Every day unfolds like the others, a plain, warm cloth with no wrinkles. It could have been otherwise. Olivia does not forget. Olivia’s heart doubles every time breakfast comes on time, cats curl like commas all around her, or someone says her name, soft as watercolor: “Olivia.”
“Olivia.” Say it, and her eyes grow round as snickerdoodles. Someone notices. Someone remembers her. It is overwhelming. Olivia would never dream of asking for this. Yet life keeps giving to the little cat. Her heart keeps growing to make room for another miracle.
If she were a grandmother, Olivia’s curio cabinets would be crammed with figurines, keepsakes of every kindness. But she is still a child, and there is room for so much more.
Olivia, unlike most of our cats, is not available for adoption. This is no shortcoming. She is on a permanent medical hold. Too much change trips the wire on her anxiety, sending her into respiratory distress. Love looks like stability.
She needs to be the cherished child, and she needs to stay at Tabby’s Place.
She welcomes everyone, near and far, to her big heart.
You can’t adopt her, but you can help her.
She will love you, in marmalade pastels, from her own little world.
And this mysterious world remains new to the marmalade lady with the biggest heart of all.