A merry month of May to the most marvelous, merciful, magnificent people on Earth!

(That is coming directly from Prescott, although I certainly agree.)

Prescott and I hope this sweet season is treating you like the royalty you are. As far as we’re concerned, to love is to reign. You love our cats so much, you rule.

And the cat who loves you best is crowned with good cheer. Prescott is in galloping good health, savoring springtime with new friends and old. With no medical worries, our silver sweetheart is free to make big spring plans.

Chief among those plans is … springing.

I am convinced that Prescott has electric slinkies inside her toes. Whether it’s the balmy weather or the visitors who dote on her, our little queen has become a four-legged pogo stick. If she’s in motion, she’s bouncing, leaping, frolicking. Sometimes I am not even sure she touches the ground at all.

But in her wisdom, Prescott knows there is a time for acrobatics, and a time for admiration. I often have the honor of introducing visitors to Queen Prescott, and she recognizes the importance of making people feel welcome. It has been said that the purest form of love is attention, and Prescott is fully attentive to her guests.*

(*Unless she is unconscious, in pursuit of Hips, or under the spell of treats.)

Dear sponsors, this is something to behold. The moment she feels admiring eyes land upon her, Prescott sits up straighter, softens her gaze, and makes herself perfectly present. She has the posture of a pianist* (*when she is not rolling like a manic manicotti upon the floor, as is sometimes required). She grows several inches in height every time someone falls in love with her.

This quickly turns comical if Hips is nearby.

As you know, we think of Prescott and Hips as a wisecracking but devoted married couple. Before Prescott came along, no one in the Lobby could rival Hips’s energy. But our jester found his match in Prescott, and they have been declaring their devotion through high-speed chases and hijinks ever since.

It is poignant how the “doomed” car crash survivor from Beirut, and the Rhode Island tabby whose injuries were “incompatible with life,” are fully alive and fully in love.

But, without fail, the moment I mention their “marriage,” Hips will do something to prove that their differences make them strong. A recent visitor was treated to some spontaneous break-dancing, as Hips hurtled in circles before throwing himself to the floor. Meanwhile, Prescott perched like a prima ballerina, as elegant as Audrey Hepburn.

The visitor laughed out loud. “I can see who brings the dignity to this union.” (Hips, pleased with the observation, proceeded to goose Peabody, crash into Moo Moo, and finally splay belly-up like a marine mammal.)

But if Prescott is sometimes Hips’s foil, she is always ready to wrap fresh faces in friendship.

Although some of her Lobby neighbors greet newcomers with growls and hisses, Prescott prefers peace. Energetic arrivals, like baby Berry, are welcome to Prescott’s projects and games. At just a few months of age, Berry is still getting a handle on who will play with him and who will say, “pipe down, young man.”

But the kitten with spina bifida has an advocate in Prescott. Our girl does not give anyone grief, whether they are rowdy or quiet. Prescott knows what it’s like to be different, and Prescott knows that everyone is different.

Although she is the most beautiful blossom of May, Prescott is not jealous of other flowers. The arrival of seventeen-year-old Smoothie caused a stir in Prescott’s Lobby. Weighing five pounds, the dainty Siamese mix is as snuggly as she is stunning, and you would never guess her age or advanced needs (significant kidney disease as well as hypercalcemia). We are all bananas for Smoothie, who spends most of her day being passed from one set of arms to another.

Those are hugs that could have gone to Prescott. But Prescott is happy for Smoothie. (Prescott has also run the numbers, confirming that Tabby’s Place’s leading natural resource is hugs. They grow wilder than dandelions. No need to fear a shortage.)

Prescott is happy for anyone who is happy. Prescott is … happy, period.

Yes, the state of the kingdom is as marvelous as May.

Almost.

If there’s one pest in Prescott’s garden, it’s that pesky rule about “not running down the hall.” Try though she may, Prescott has not been able to secure a Constitutional amendment guaranteeing her right to gallop into Quinn’s Corner.

But, she is not disheartened. After all, she is a Tabby’s Place cat. She is all heart. And if spring is the best time for big plans, Prescott will just adjust her strategy.

As you can see, Prescott has acquired her own vehicle (no doubt just the start of a royal fleet). Not only will this carry her into Quinn’s Corner in style, but it has the advantage of also being the food cart. This will enable Prescott to properly supervise every dish of wet food delivered to the Lobby cats.

Can you believe her grace and generosity? Few queens would stoop to personally perform quality control on their subjects’ suppers. But Prescott just loves them that much.

And that’s the best posture of all.

Dear sponsors, this merry, madcap, magical May is only possible for Prescott because of you. It is easy to forget that her health and happiness are daily wonders, more miraculous than springtime itself.

Thank you for your selfless love for our little lady. May all your springtime plans and dreams come true.

With great affection, your correspondent,
Angela