Although none of them were yet born when it was released, the Tabby’s Place cats have made Outkast’s “Hey Ya!” their solemn anthem.
Specifically: “Now I want to see y’all on y’all baddest behavior.”
The Security Council of Suite B does take exception to the allegation that the thing “cooler than being cool” is “ice cold.” Clearly the correct answer to “what’s cooler than being cool?” is “Maurice.”
Which brings us promptly back to y’all baddest behavior.
Tabby’s Place may be known for our care of cats with physical challenges, ranging from diabetes to paraplegia to having a tail that appears to be shoplifted from another cat. But between rivers of insulin and subcutaneous fluids, there is a quiet continent called Behavior.
Perhaps “quiet” is the wrong word.
In a classroom of one hundred fifteen pupils, opinions and emotions are abundant. We have cats who love cats and cats who fear molecules. We have every mewing Myers-Briggs type, and the entire Enneagram multiplied by nine lives.
United Nations peacekeepers should come to Tabby’s Place to learn from our Behavior Team.
Every living creature could learn from our Behavior Team.
Behind the scenes, beyond the reach of exasperation, our saintly Behavior Team works with cats whom others would call “bad.”
Don’t tell them I called them “saintly.” They will swat away that halo faster than Lornadoone swats a well-meaning hand. They will tell you that all they are doing is making their friends feel at home in the world.
They are making friends with cats who once made all the wrong enemies. When you are a homeless cat, a temper can be just as dangerous as diabetes.
Hopeless situations hover around all who fail the test of “ordinary.”
Tabby’s Place does not believe in “ordinary,” much less “hopeless.” Show us y’all baddest behavior, and we will show you the meaning of safety.
Our Behavior Team does not believe in “bad cats.” Alessia does not have a short fuse. Alessia has needs. Alessia exudes undistilled dignity. Alessia’s list of quirks is longer than her locks, and she is braided into the Tabby’s Place family.
The Behavior Team researches ways to soothe the thunderstorms in Alessia’s mind. The Behavior Team adores Alessia exactly as she is, as long as she is happy.
Happiness is too large to wear a standard size. Love’s garments are bespoke, and our Behavior Team is always at the sewing machine. This is the only way to dress a friend like Bacon.
In popular opinion, Bacon is a burden. A decade into his tenure at Tabby’s Place, he still requires a delicate cocktail of medication and a private suite. His exquisitely rare neurological disorder demands meticulous choreography. Get it “wrong,” and our silver star will fall from his place in the sky. Scramble his script, and Bacon will suffer seizures and terrors that turn the sky black.
Keeping Bacon’s peace is a monumental effort, every day, and it is seen by nearly no one.
Our Behavior Team does not do this to be seen.
They do this to row a friend to safety, day after day.
The stakes are not always quite so high. For every Bacon, there are a dozen delinquents who just need a few etiquette classes. Maurice can learn that hooligannery is unbecoming of a gentleman, even if he is French and perfect. Charles can learn that his novel, The Annihilation of Oram, is never going to get published, so better that the boys just play nice.
For every instance of y’all baddest behavior, there is a case of a cat who just needs more joy. This is why our Behavior Team researches enrichment activities for Anka. This is why Hazey gets a lick-mat, and Bella gets a motorized toy, and every cat gets the impression that every day is her birthday.
It is not enough that they are safe.
They need to know that they are loved.
For that, every cat needs personalized peace.
That’s only possible when someone makes the time to get to know you. Peace is only lasting when you know you can’t mess it up, not even on y’all baddest behavior.
Our Behavior Team will not rest until every jelly jar of joy jiggles up to the brim.
What’s cooler than being cool? Taking care of your friends, even if they look healthy.
(Also: Maurice.)