Oh, frisky feisty January. You are longer than your 31 days, starting with fireworks and ending with “finally!” You are the time for cold crunch under our feet and Christmas leftovers gone crusty. You are the month of few holidays and generally muted merriment. But those who live among cats have all the frisk and […]
We are In It. The Most Wonderful Time of the Year(TM). The Holiday Season. The ThankChanChriKwaNewYear pentathlon of extravagance and emotion and love and angst. The cats have not noticed.
April, sweet April, T.S. Eliot had you all wrong. You’re not the cruellest month. You’re not trying to show us fear in a handful of dust.
One of the first birthday presents I remember receiving was a Casio keyboard. Although this did not launch me to the levels of Keyboard Cat or Nora, it helped prepare me for Anneke and Mimi.
The measure of a year depends entirely on the scale. For thirteen lucky cats, 2016 was the grandest year of all.
October and all of its surprises are in the books. Cubs in the Series. Cats in girdles. Swiss-cheesey holes in undisclosed locations.
In one of the greatest books of all time, one of the greatest characters of all time said, “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” That makes two of us, Anne Shirley. After all, Octobers include cats.
The songwriters of the world can’t quite agree about September. Some want to remember it.* Some are trying to remember it. Some just want to be awakened when it ends. And then there are the cats.
April, are you really the cruelest month? You took one Prince, but you gave us another in his bathrobe. You took too many friends, but you promised to return them in an April that will never end.