The Pink Moon is coming.
The crocuses are about to break winter’s chains.
And I have exciting news for you, in quadruplicate.
Y’all are guessing wunderkinds and sleuths of unspeakable savvy.
Here’s one fresh-baked final batch of hints for you: Sly’s new sister is the color of a snickerdoodle. Her fur is as wiry as a bottle brush. Her eyes are like the green-cheese moon on the water. She knows the cold.
Well, now Ursula knows the warmth of love everlasting — and the beatitude of a brother to boot. You betcha: Gigi’s beloved dad has adopted both Sly and Ursula, and the rest is all sorts of moonstruck mushiness.
You’re not just stellar sleuths: you are prayer warriors.
Before we get into exactly what your prayers hath wrought, let me ask you which you’d prefer:
1) Bonnie returning home to Tabby’s Place;
2) Bonnie’s biopsy report reading “no big deals found” in flashing neon caps;
3) Bonnie being back to lollygagging on Danielle’s desk in all her chattery chowhoundy glory;
4) The whole flippin’ enchilada: all of the above?
You got it, kittens: she is both back and, in fact, better than ever. She’s Rambo after a 20-year hiatus. She’s The Terminator after everyone thought she was terminated. She’s the beanpole at bat with three men on and two men out.
And she’s hit death out of the park. Begone, bad news; Bonnie is blazing.
While we’re remembering not to underestimate beanpoles, I bring you…Ryan Lewis.
He may have an unforgivable name. He may be the last of our Hunterdon Humane rescues still standing at Tabby’s Place.
But he’s shooting sprigs of spring throughout Suite C. A spaghetti string of a tabby who seems unsure what to do with his long legs, Ryan Lewis is a Pixar character come to life and born to bound around. I am officially befuddled by his continued wait for a forever home.
But I am admittedly grateful for his continued tenure as our cat at Tabby’s Place.
Should RL’s tenure stretch into the future, he can find living inspiration in another blooming carry-over. After two years at Tabby’s Place, Chrissy is finally unfurling.
Back in Suite A, Chrissy was rapturous around her own kind. Valencia was a cool older sister, and Sam…ohh! That flowing hair, that cosmopolitan urbane debonair strut… Swoony Sam was all approximately 57 members of One Direction, shot straight in the direction of Chrissy’s heart.
Chrissy was content. Chrissy was cat-centric. And Chrissy was afraid of us.
Fast-forward to what may have seemed a harsh decision. In a decisive clatter, Chrissy was abducted. It was adios to Suite A, sayonara to the big sister and auf wiedersehen to her puppy love. Chrissy came to the Community Room.
Chrissy was not amused.
But we believed that Chrissy could love creatures other than cats…and this spring, faith has become sight.
With the patient labors of volunteers Russ and Kelly and oodles of others (if I’m not naming you, it’s not because you’re not important, it’s because I’m an idiot), Chrissy is stretching into love. Once curled like The Thinker, Chrissy now stands with arms outstretched to the sun, daring to risk and receive and rejoice.
Pile on the good, kittens. It ain’t over yet.
Photo credits from de top: AT x2, Jess B x2, AT.