Room for all
What are we doing here? Perhaps that’s an awfully vast question for a little cat blog. Perhaps that’s the only question for a little cat blog. Perhaps that’s the only question, full stop.
What are we doing here? Perhaps that’s an awfully vast question for a little cat blog. Perhaps that’s the only question for a little cat blog. Perhaps that’s the only question, full stop.
We are not the power. Love is the power. But oh, our light-force! when we turn our faces in its direction.
Every cat goes to bed satisfied that he saved the world that day. They are all correct. Since they go to bed and get up again eighteen times a day, this is quite an accomplishment.
I recently came upon a headline, “What we still don’t know about black holes.” It made me think of perennial questions, and perennial plants, and the smart, short-lived flowers we call cats.
Can I tell you a secret? I already told the cats, and they all agreed that I’m safe sharing it with you. Here goes. I’m Tabby’s Place’s Development Director (although I prefer Flipper of Fundraising Flapjacks)…and I’m not so sure about #GivingTuesday.
It happened again. It will keep happening. It will happen until our hearts harden like granite, like gristle, like “good sense.” Which is to say, it will keep happening.
I am good at some things: coining band names, remembering obscure theological miscellany, matching scrunchies to appropriate outfits. I am bad at many things: Carcassonne, remembering that “less is more,” remaining in the present moment. Cats are good at just about everything, but especially that last item.
A goose landed on the spire of my church one morning. And he stayed. And he stayed. And he shouted. And he made me think of Winston, and you, and me.
I’m sorry, Charly. I’m sorry you thought you had a handle on life, but it snapped right off the door. I’m sorry that open doors closed. I’m not sorry to see you again.
Editor’s note: This week, Miyoko made her gentle journey into the endless dawn, surrounded by people who adored her. The following post, written before we knew time was so short, comes with gratitude to Miyoko, and to her extraordinary foster parents Bree and Todd, who jammed her brief stay with lifetimes of love.