In this world of many creatures, we need us all. The ones who think, and the ones who feel. The ones who act, and the ones who contemplate. The ones who remember The Safety Dance, and the ones who have never danced safely. Even, and especially, the ones who do all dancing in safety orange.
If you’re reading this blog, you probably don’t need this reminder. But, just in case: never underestimate the wisdom of the cat.
Loving other creatures is not for the faint of heart. As we relearned too well this week, love can leach our tears and our wails and our patience.
Farmers have their markets. Carnies have their carousels. And we, we have our kittens by the quintillions.
June is arguably the best of months. It has the Strawberry Moon. It has the promise that you will always be a bride. It has Wonder Woman.*
April, sweet April, T.S. Eliot had you all wrong. You’re not the cruellest month. You’re not trying to show us fear in a handful of dust.
This time ten years ago, we’d never have guessed that someday we would all gobble Greek yogurt and hashtag everything. This time two years ago, we didn’t know Bubbles or Riley or Chewbacca-mask lady. This time last year, some of our favorite people were just getting ready to get down.
If you want to be with it, go little and local. Local produce. Local economy. Local artists. Think global, act local, be hipstery in the happiest ways. Lucky you: Tabby’s Place has a bumper crop of artisinal organic heirloom cats.
It’s August, kittens. August. The month of pterodactyl-sized bugs and Venus-high heat and the first flirtations with fall.