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

“In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes.” — Andy Warhol (1928-1987) (or did he?)

Fame is a foreign concept to a cat. It’s one of their many admirable traits.

Even if they expect to be treated like royalty, they do not obsess over celebrity, unlike some humans. If you shine a spotlight on some people for more than a minute, they get to liking it so much they don’t ever want to go back into the shadows. Give them a bundle of money to go along with it, and if they’re not careful they’ll buy a Porsche for every day of the week.

But give an anonymous cat some positive attention, and not only will s/he behave no worse than before, but also in many cases the cat will blossom into a more caring, loving creature. (Even this one.) And money? The next cat who shows a desire for money will be the first.

Now, if anyone deserves the admiration of the masses, it’s the cats at Tabby’s Place. (Unless it’s the humans who devote their lives to helping them.) Almost without exception, every one of them has endured tough times. But they’ve caught a break, and they’re receiving all the loving care a cat could need or want — thanks so much to your generous support! — so that even those with rough edges tend to get smoothed out over time. For example, I’ve heard that McNulty, once considered the terror of Suite FIV, has been keeping calm company with his neighbors.

Everyone’s hoping for good things with the new neighbor in the suite, a shy grey guy named Shea. When I visited one recent Sunday, he and equally shy Cisco were curled up side by side at the top of the solarium ramp.

I was seated beneath them on the floor, sharing Quality Time with my ol’ pal Charlie, when there was a rattle and a screech, and just that fast, there was Buddy, tensely crouched at the bottom of the ramp and looking upward with wide eyes. His stare was focused on the calico cat whose aggression in the suite had impelled him through the connecting tube and into the solarium, namely, the not-so-charming Rogue. She remained at the mouth of the tube while Buddy slunk back up the ramp and, perhaps seeking safety in numbers, placed himself by the side of Cisco and Shea. As much as I wanted to comfort Buddy, I didn’t approach for fear of spooking the two shy guys.

They were still in that position when I looked back in on the solarium some time later, after visiting the cats inside Suite FIV. By that time, someone else was in the solarium, putting together a few play towers donated by a generous volunteer for each of the solaria. I couldn’t stick around until they were finished, but not surprisingly, the crew in Suite FIV enjoys them. It’s now typical to behold Cisco and his buddies sleeping on all levels of the multi-tiered structures, the sun shining on their faces. Hopefully this latest luxury item will help smooth Rogue’s remaining rough edges. I’ll be back next month to let you know more about our Buddy.

Again, thanks for all of your support for Buddy!