A merry month of March to you, team TNR!

Can you hear it?

It’s not the sap rising. It’s not the buds and blossoms staging their annual festivities.

Listen very carefully, for it’s a tiny sound that’s tremendous to you and me.

It’s the mewing of the mini-muffins. The kittens are coming!

Spring is galloping down the year to meet us, and, as always, it will have newborns in its arms. At Tabby’s Place, we’re bracing ourselves for the baby-bloom, as this garden party grows wilder every year.

You, dear Team TNR, are on the front lines of the infant extravaganza. A plump percentage of our pea-sized population comes from feral cat colonies, underscoring the importance of TNR. The more free-roaming cats we reach each fall and winter, the fewer orphans will arrive in desperate need each spring.

But thanks to you, we’ll be here for them all. And we can’t wait to love them.

In the meantime, the last days of winter are already leaping with love.

Our February friend Walker may not be leaping just yet, but he is — against all odds but the invincible arithmetic of love — walking, and chirping, and making himself the cozy King of our Community Room.

Dear sponsors, I am near speechless at Walker’s resurgence — almost more of a resurrection — but I could sing your praises all year. You made it possible for us to see this boy through his crisis, and you are the mercy behind his mirthful days. He’s quickly forgetting his weary winter: who has time to remember the sad, when the happy is hyacinth-bright everywhere he looks?

And he is looking, and seeing! Blind on arrival, Walker is regaining vision…and in his huge, maple-syrup eyes, the world is a sweet sight to behold.

Walker isn’t the only wonder remembering love’s power. Down the hall, a jubilant gentleman is making himself at home. Mr. Mustache, the Teddy Roosevelt of cats, came to us from the same farm as Agnes and Toulouse (who we suspect may be his sisters, cousins, or kinswomen of some sort).

Clearly this was a cherished colony: Mr. M, like Toulouse and Aggie, is sweeter than a pallet of Peeps. An elder gentleman who always seems to be smiling, he’s lived too many winters in the cold. But the endless spring has begun, and he’s already making best friends of two species in our FIV+ Suite. (Actually, knowing Mr. M, he’s probably also stolen the hearts of the sparrows who visit his bird feeder!)

From kittens to seniors, Tabby’s Place cats learn the lessons of love, thanks to you.

But loving cats means loving them on their own terms. Not every arrival will end up as mushy as Mr. Mustache. Even the aloof deserve our devotion. That’s good news for friends like Lt. Dan.

Like Mr. Mustache, Lt. Dan was bereft when his colony caregiver passed away. To make matters worse, a growth on his ear growled with pain. Left alone, Lt. Dan would have faced a brutal battle.

But Tabby’s Place leaves no cat behind, and Lt. Dan became ours. We were as gentle as possible, respecting his feral soul and not forcing him to be a snuggle buddy. He ached to go back outside; we yearned only to heal him.

Happily, a biopsy revealed that Lt. Dan’s lump was a harmless polyp. Our vet team treated his symptoms, gave him a few secret kisses while he was sedated (don’t tell him; his friends will never let him live it down), and entrusted him to the keeping of a loving new colony caregiver. He’s off to a wonderful life. And, for the rest of his life, he’ll be a Tabby’s Place cat. If ever he should need us, we’ll be here.

That’s only possible because you’re here, dear hearts.

Your generosity is the garden where every cat can bloom.

Thank you for making Tabby’s Place an invincible springtime for all the cats who need us!

Much love,
your correspondent,
Angela