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.
O! You wondrous creatures, you radiant Tabby’s Place residents! You are equally at home in winter and spring, dropping long-tailed poetry like petals across the month that makes seasons kiss. You Marched through our days as children of the Tabby’s Place promise, blossoms beloved simply because you are ours. You made us yours. And to […]