When you’re grateful, you see the secret glitter on everything. When you’re grateful, your own purring is contagious.
It’s a ceaseless source of shame that it’s easier to be patient with cats than with people. I wish this weren’t so. I hope the cats are making me a better human. But it is true.
Twenty-nine out of thirty Awesome Humans have a ready answer to the following question. What makes your cat truly special?
There have been too many losses this past month. But somehow, loss never has the final word.
There are people who scare you: dictators, axe murderers, Ronald McDonald. There are people who evoke your sympathy: starving people, lonely people, people enslaved by warlords or warlocks. Then there are the people who fall into both categories simultaneously.
There is something artificial about setting aside one particular day to remember. Artificial, yes. But also merciful.
We do a great deal of wrestling at Tabby’s Place — with ideas, that is, not with alligators or each other. But perhaps it would be easier to grapple with alligators than some of the conundrums around here.
Be it known: if you spend any amount of time at Tabby’s Place, you will step in it. You will step in the vomit. You will step in the excrement. And, in more ways than one, you will step in The Wet.
Any self-respecting feline will tell you: cats do not err. They do surprise you. They do make last-minute course corrections. But they do not make mistakes. N-O-N, no.