It’s not easy being a countess at a cat sanctuary. But when you’re as easy to love as Consetta, you find your way.
The mailboxes at my condo complex are being replaced due to the fact that they are, and here I quote the venerable Association, “aging and have an inconsistent appearance.” That does not bode well for any of us.
Abandon all fear of abandonment, ye who enter Tabby’s Place. You might want to double up on the absurdity and audacity, but taking “all fear of abandonment” out of your knapsack should make extra room for those, as well as liverwurst, which you will also need.
We of the humanoid persuasion have a big thing going on with barriers. From thresholds across which brides were awkwardly (and riskily) schlepped, to glass ceilings, and garden walls, we love boundaries. At least, we love physical boundaries.
In this life, there are good things that everyone agrees are good (pajamas, Stanley Tucci). There are good things that some good people believe are bad (candy corn, the 2012 Les Misérables). Such persons are still good, despite being wrong. There are ambiguous things that good and bad people can fight about for a good […]
Volunteering at our beloved sanctuary is a treat and privilege. Service to the kitties is its own reward, but it doesn’t stop there. Cats give back.
Consetta is not a cat content to consent to others’ intent. She is, however, ready to confiscate my keyboard.
Normal is mythological. It just doesn’t exist. What exists are lots of things that are scattershot all over the place, and, when averaged out, yield a mean value that we call “normal.” But, normal is just not…normal. Normal is unusual. Normal is strange, especially at Tabby’s Place.
Editor’s note: Oh, kittens, are you in for a scrumptious surprise today. None less than Rocket‘s eminent adopter, Kelley, has joined the Tabby’s Place family of volunteers. Today, she’s set her sights and her soaring literary gifts on one Bosco Rosenberg. From this day forward, I aspire to live in Bosco time. I think you […]