As August ambushes July with a Super Soaker, we’re feeling ruffled in Ringoes. Cats are reasonable. They do not expect life to be a constant stream of meat products. They accept that sometimes the best they can do is a burger made of twenty slices of cheese. But no one at Tabby’s Place can accept […]
Quite a lot happened this week in history. The Feast Day of St. Francis. The Battle of Largs. The births of Gandhi and Vaclav Havel and Sting. The 14th anniversary of Tabby’s Place.
Did you eat local at every farm market? Did you “fweeeee!” around every Ferris wheel? Did you summer your summer to the summaximum?
Look: a sleepy kitten bathing in the sunshine. Now, what was that thing you were worrying about?
Felis Catus family, I’m afraid I owe you an apology. But, more seriously, I’m afraid I owe eight kittens an apology.
When is a kitten not just a kitten? When he’s (a) a fur boa, (b) an interlitter peacemaker and (c) all that and five bags of chips. Phillie is no ordinary kitten.