Happy August, Team TNR!

I hope this month’s missive finds you happier than a gold medalist eating crème brûlée along the Seine. The Paris Games may be over, but here at Tabby’s Place, our Olympics of love play on.

As you know so well, love is not all violins and chocolat. Love is sweat and stamina. Love is the courage to live in midair, between laughter and tears.

Love is patience, perseverance, and the stubborn insistence that “hopeless” is a myth.

Love is you, loving our littlest and loneliest cats, month after month. You may be in the next town over or an Atlantic away, but in a real way, you are our community cats’ home upon this Earth.

You have been a canopy of compassion over the cats in our ongoing trap-neuter-return project. When the story of Summer 2024 is over, the sickly colony will be a stable and cherished community where no cat will suffer.

We continue welcoming galumphing hordes of kittens, while spaying their mothers and fathers and uncles and associates. This is love’s quiet, long-term, life-saving investment: today’s spays and neuters will prevent generations of pain.

Meantime, there is a jamboree of joy back at the sanctuary.

You’ll recall sweet Shakira, barely out of babyhood herself, was poised to give birth this time last month. I am as proud as an auntie to report that Shakira had four healthy babies, who she has mothered with affection and awe. It is incredibly moving to see Shakira’s green eyes full of wonder as she cares for her newborns. They are clearly each precious in her sight.

As wise as she is sweet, Shakira has a generous definition of “family.” She adores her foster mom, one of our skilled volunteers. She adores the August sun as though it were a beaming grandmother. And she adores the daughter who arrived late and right on time.

No sooner had Shakira welcomed her babies, than a tiny cry split the sky. We will never know what happened to Camilla’s mother and siblings, but we know all too well what would have happened to Camilla without our help — your help.

We wondered if Shakira had room in her heart and her nest for one more.

Knowing Shakira’s spirit, we had more than a little hope.

And today, Camilla has more than a chance at survival. She has a family — feline and human, including you! — and a future as bright as August itself.

Meanwhile, the colony cats keep coming, their bright eyes gazing up at us with a swirl of worry and hope. A gentle little lady named Ganache was found with painful scratches all over her neck.

But with a heart softer than nougat, she forgot her pain in order to care for her toddler, a nervous little nugget we named Penuche. They are devoted to one another, a two-cat support group whose struggles are over, and whose joy has begun.

Then there is Georgia, underweight yet acrobatic. Like her brother Chaz, Georgia has missed too many meals. We will be making up for lost time with these lean love-bugs, and also treating Chaz for a painfully overgrown toenail that was embedded in his paw pad and causing him to limp. Their brother (cousin? uncle? colony cats never tell…) Weston is robust and rollicking, the burly break-dancer of the bunch.

They have all spent so long just surviving, it will take time to learn to play.

It will take love’s proof to learn that they are precious.

But you give so selflessly, dear sponsors, that each of these cats will flourish.

Love is a brave thing, always teetering on the podium between memory and forever. And, especially in the trenches of TNR, love’s anthem may tremble with tears.

This month’s update would not be complete without introducing you to Sweet Pea. This delicate senior lived happily in one of our longtime colonies. But one morning, she seemed weak and unwell. Since Sweet Pea lived in a Tabby’s Place colony, she was as much a “Tabby’s Place cat” as the plump pashas dozing under our roof.

Love leapt into action. Our vet team diagnosed Sweet Pea as severely anemic, with her body destroying platelets faster than she could replenish them. We lavished her with food, treats, and all the kisses she would tolerate, as well as steroid therapy. But in the morning, with a full belly and fresh memories of unconditional love, Sweet Pea had crossed the veil into the life beyond all shadows.

We wept for her passing and gave thanks for her life. We will love her forever.

Love always has one foot in “forever.” It is the bravest force on earth.

And thanks to you, over one hundred cats will gallop into autumn with strength, sweetness, and the silliness that is only possible when you are safe. To watch them play, a luxury they lacked when all their energy was spent on survival, puts tears in my eyes.

Thank you, dear sponsors, for being the Olympians of mercy.

Your hearts of gold are changing the world, one shining life at a time.

Much love, your correspondent,
Angela