Oh August, sweet little August, you are young yet, and tender. Yet as you grow, we have a request for you. On behalf of every individual of every species on every continent, subcontinent and islet: please be kind.
We try to keep it real on this blog. That said, if you ever hear me utter the words “I’m keepin’ it real,” please take me gently by the hand and take me to a quiet room where you can apply duct tape to my mouth (preferably glitter duct tape).
Mashed taters: eaten. Great uncles and aunties: kissed. November: accomplished.
Be it known that Tabby’s Place does not condone forcing people to work on Thanksgiving just so that other people can buy sweaters. Be it also known that Tabby’s Place enthusiastically condones forcing humans to work on Black Friday just so that other people can adopt cats.
Tabby’s Place has more quirky neighborhoods than a Brooklyn square mile. If the Community Room is the Hotel California and Adoption Room #3 is the hippest senior center in history, the Special Needs Suite is…um, well, not exactly the neighborhood in which you want to raise your kittens. Think Rent. Think Chicago. Think 42nd Street […]
Be it known: there are no plain cats. There are mutts and mysteries and marvels and mackerel tabbies. But no plain, boring cats. There are, however, “plain brown tabbies.” And, fortunately for our kitties, there is also a Plain Brown Tabby Toys and Treats.
At the risk of offending every cat who ever thought he was the sun, I have an announcement to announce. It’s not all about us.
People who are trying to sell you something will often promise they’ve got “something for everyone.” Usually, this is about as factual as the promise, on the back of those things where you use a magnet to give a cartoon guy a beard with metal shavings, that you will have “hours and hours of fun.”
Tabby’s Place has a lot in common with New York City. I don’t mean the fashion, the graffiti or even the undying affection of Woody Allen. I mean the neighborhoods.
FYI for you VIPs: alphabet soup can be a V.V. good thing. I don’t mean the CIA, the FBI, NASA or even a can of condensed Campbell’s. Today we delight in the letters of a certain cat quartet.