We track all sorts of statistics at Tabby’s Place. For instance: Number of active volunteers: 150 Number of cats in Suite B: 18 Total weight, in pounds, of cats in Suite C: infinity
Many long years ago, there was a movie about a bunch of old toys. They were eagerly awaiting Christmas, and warmly welcomed the new toys when it came. The movie concluded with all the toys embracing and singing a song with lyrics like “Old friends, new friends, friends who are more awesome than sparkles…” (Something […]
…and climbs, and runs up stairs, apparently. He also has his own e-mail address. I am not making any of this up.
Sometimes even I know better than to ornament something with too-many words. On this Mardi Gras, the emphasis at Tabby’s Place is on the Gras.
True story: true love lasts. And when it’s hopelessly-devoted-to-you kinda love, it lasts forever. So it’s only fitting that we (you, me, Tashi, Bialy) are still very much in lurrrrrve with the dancing ocelot, Molly. Special thanks to her forever MollyMama for writing this glorious, picture-full update. Prepare to swoon…and dance.
I’m not sure who said it first. But somewhere in the last few weeks, several of us foolish human beans have dared to remark, “It’s awfully late in kitten season for us to have no kittens.” Foolish, foolish human beans.
What’s cute and tiny and shimmies all over? I’ll give you one more clue: she has more spots than a pimply teenager and all 101 dalmatians combined.
There are many, many Tabby’s Place-isms that old Mr. Webster (this one, not the best of the Websters) would never put in his dictionary.