Rescue is a never-ending tug of war between life and death. Let even one small cat pull your heartstrings, and you are in it. You will be deliriously happy, wide awake to what you were born for. You will be wounded, muddied, and yanked to the brink of your own strength. Your gladness and grief […]
Didn’t we have a time? We cherished kittens. Now, we are remembering seniors. And the cats reminded us of the meaning of May.
There must be some hidden hoard of helium in the walls of Tabby’s Place. How else to explain the ups and downs of August, our hearts bobbing like airships?
January hath given, and January hath taken away. January hath given us Zebra Cake ice cream, and January hath taken away all remaining laughable attempts by our species to appear dignified. January hath taken away our queen Betty White (and our gentle jester Louie Anderson, and our soaring bard Meat Loaf), and January hath given […]
This has not been a normal holiday season. Fortunately, Tabby’s Place contains precisely zero normal cats, normal humans, or normal salamanders. (I can neither confirm nor deny the underground salamander kingdom of Tabby’s Place, nor their effective rule over the rest of us.)
We came. We marched fourth. We marched thirty-first, even. And now, we shall April.