August greetings to you, and to all Buddy’s buddies.

In the Big Apple, just a few dozen miles from Ringoes, NJ as the crow flies, this month you could have seen all manner of fancy dress and kitty couture at the Algonquin Hotel’s annual cat fashion show.

Meanwhile, the cats at Tabby’s Place are living at a far slower pace — one that makes Lake Wobegon look like a city that never sleeps — but while they’re far less dressed, they are no less celebrated. And our little Buddy’s feeling fine, having regained the weight lost during his hunger strike a few months ago. I saw that first-hand when I visited recently.

As I opened the door to the FIV-positive suite, Buddy was lying atop a cage, one of his favorite spots since he first arrived at Tabby’s Place. But now, instead of trying to disappear at the sight of a human, he got up and made his way over to the wooden cat cubbies, where we shared some good Quality Time for several minutes, me murmuring and he purring. I couldn’t feel any of his ribs or of any other part of his skeletal support, for that matter. Buddy is now a solid adult cat, not as mancatly as my ol’ pal Charlie, but unmistakably fully-grown.

When Buddy backed away and began to wash himself, I shmoozed around the suite, greeting Lester, McNulty and Amos. By the time I turned back around, Buddy was on the other side of the room atop a free-standing piece of cat furniture. I was a few feet away, standing near a metal shelf folded out from the wall at a 90-degree angle, resembling a diaper-changing station for babies.

Our eyes met, and in a split-second, Buddy leaped toward the shelf. The cat tree rocked backward from the force of his take-off, and an instant later, the changing station shelf clanged as Buddy stuck a full four-point landing next to me.

It looked as though his momentum might carry him off the edge of the shelf, but he required just a couple of small skidding steps to come to a complete stop. After stopping, he had me all to himself again, for the other cats in the room had scattered at the sound of more than a dozen pounds of feline touching down on a short metal runway at the end of a brief flight.

So you can see, Buddy’s feeling fine, full of energy and spirit, displaying the athletic ability that a cat makes look so easy. You could forget for a second his fearful past and the malady in his immune system that would have been an inescapeably hopeless situation, if not for Tabby’s Place. And, if not for your generous donations that help these cats so much.