Happy April, Team TNR!

It’s here: spring, the sweet season, when dogwood trees put on their pink sequins, and sunbeams smooch cat bellies all over Tabby’s Place.

The sun isn’t the only one doing the smooching around here … but our kisses were a long time coming. I shall explain.

In the waning days of winter, a colony cat named Bernard nominated himself for the title of World’s Least Kissable. He preferred to pretend people did not exist. We were nothing more than a dinner delivery apparatus. The sooner human hands vanished, the better.

Thanks to you, TNR cats like Bernard have everything they need, even if they can’t bring themselves to admit they need us. You, dear sponsors, are the beautiful people who love a cat like Bernard just the way he is. You do not need to wrap him in your arms to hold him in your heart.

But sometimes, love brings a cat places he never expected to go.

We are devoted to doing what’s in each cat’s best interest, whether they are indoor snuggle-bugs or colony cats who consider themselves mountain lions. So, when Bernard exhibited some concerning behavior in his colony, we whisked him to our vet team just as fast as the drop trap could snap. We planned to evaluate Bernard for two weeks, then return him “home,” as long as he was stable.

A lot can happen in two weeks.

Call it spring fever, or call it a miracle: Bernard decided “home” was right here … and now, he’s making up for lost time kissing people.

I do not mean “tolerating kisses.” I do not even mean “enjoying kisses.” I mean giving kisses … while drooling on everyone like, well, a St. Bernard. We can’t make this stuff up, and if we did, the cats would laugh at us!

There is a sweet silliness sparkling in Bernard’s eyes today. His strange symptoms have subsided. It is almost as though they were a plot device to get our hero home.

We have no doubt an adoptive home awaits. But in the meantime, we are as blissful as buttercups to have Bernard at Tabby’s Place. He knows how important he is to everyone he meets. He is not “just a stray.” He’s Bernard, and he’s the best (a title of which he is fully aware).

You are also the best, dear sponsors. And your light is shining from one end of Tabby’s Place to another. A few suites down from Bernard’s snuggle-fest, you’ll find Roberta. Well into her golden years, Roberta is experiencing bliss for the very first time.

You may recall that this meek, nutmeg-striped senior came to us blind and bewildered this past winter. She was too frail to return outdoors, but not too pleased to become our bestie. This was no peach-cheeked grandma cat. Roberta commanded respect and the dignity of distance.

We settled our noble girl in the Community Room,  a sun-dappled spot where our staff and volunteers could keep a close eye on her. Roberta would have access to warm window boxes, cozy snuggle-spots, and tidal waves of love beaming in her direction all day.

At first, Roberta wanted nothing to do with our affection. She had been on a bewildering journey, and trust would take time.

But I have neglected to mention love’s “secret weapon” in the Community Room: Ginny.

Ginny has been Tabby’s Place’s “Administrative Assistant and a whole lot more” for nearly twenty years. She is the epicenter of affection in the Community Room. I could not count the number of cats who have entered that room with their heads down and their hackles up, only to melt in the presence of Ginny’s golden heart.

Although Roberta is not in full mush-mode yet, the transformation has begun.

From early days of hiding and huddling, our brave girl is now letting the sun stroke her stripes. After a lifetime of scrabbling for survival, Roberta rests easy. Once again, dear sponsors, you have given new life to a weary wanderer.

For Bernard, Roberta, and all the cats touched by your love, within and beyond the walls of Tabby’s Place, the best is yet to come.

Thank you for being the spirit of springtime in their lives.

Much love, your correspondent,
Angela