We live in an age of indignation. Much of it is necessary. But much of it is just noxious.
That title isn’t exactly accurate. Geriatric throw-downs, plural, endless in plurality, would be more like it.
Cats (feline) are not the only cats (hep) to have moved in our recent mass of motion. We have been hustling humans all about the sanctuary, too.
This is a wild, woolly world. We’ve got global goals and global griefs. We’ve got water on Mars and Macklemore back on the charts. Fortunately, we’ve also got gobs of cat news.
“They” tell me it is now Meteorological Autumn. “They” say kitten season is on the wane. But the great, proverbial “they” don’t know a thing about the endless summer of cats.
It happens all the time. You really get into a TV show and find yourself attached to the characters. Then, one of those stars decides he wants to do movies, explore his opportunities, and leave the show.
If they were human beans, the cats of Adoption Room #2 might be perfect fodder for a sitcom. Just picture it: a sweet-natured schizophrenic, two good-time guys who love to snuggle strangers and pee on the floor, and the prettiest, hissiest girl in town all live together. Hijinks ensue.