Kitty LeFey’s Cosmos: Oram’s Shadow
Imagine: It’s a beautiful, sunshiny day. There’s the slightest breeze drifting through the solarium. Sharing the bench is a gigantic black cat with a white-tipped tail. He is purring softly.
Imagine: It’s a beautiful, sunshiny day. There’s the slightest breeze drifting through the solarium. Sharing the bench is a gigantic black cat with a white-tipped tail. He is purring softly.
In American pop culture, four-leafed clovers have inspired superstitions, song performances, and breakfast cereal shapes. At Tabby’s Place, it’s a very young cat named Clover who does the inspiring, simply by being herself.
There is a time to spin, and a time to sprawl. A time to toil, and a time to turn into a tide-pool of molasses. A time to care, and a time to care less. A time for acid rock, and a time for acedia…feline edition.
Bear with me a moment, please. I’m trying to wrap my mind around an idea. I asked for it. Literally. Only, what to do with it now that I have been thusly gifted, from my spouse’s own lips, with “Space Cats?”
Charles is not a minimalist. Charles is not a streamliner. Charles is a keeper, a hoarder, and a master of disorder. And Charles loves being Charles.
The pumpkins are fat. The skeletons are thin. The cats’ patience is wearing thinner. The cats are wearing clothes.
Do it. Call me “greedy.” I’m not daring you. I’m not seeking absolution. I’m delighting in it. Do it!
Five words. Ten syllables. That comprises the entirety of the mission at Tabby’s Place: A Cat Sanctuary: Saving cats from hopeless situations. The mission could be more detailed. It doesn’t need to be. The mission could express so much more. It doesn’t have to. The mission could be neither more poignant nor profound: Saving cats […]
Typically, it is best to define and describe oneself, other individuals, and objects based on who and/or what they are. It is a positive path to clear understanding. Sometimes, though, the negative is helpful: this is not this; that is not that. Sometimes, the negative is unavoidable anyway…at least at first glance. Cue the cats […]
When things go south, as they often do, it’s easy to feel like a stumped, stooped street slug. But South and Hope belong together. Just ask stoop child Charles.