Feral roads diverge
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.
Into the wet
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.
To err
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.
Passed over
Some things do not make sense. For example: 1) That weird recurring dream in which you’re married to Dan Akroyd; 2) The way I find myself humming “Ode to Joy” when I clean litter boxes; 3) The fact that neither Angus nor Boris has yet been adopted.
Smudges of mystery
It’s freeing to come clean about our smudges and strangeness. For instance: I wear more ruffles than is age-appropriate. I’m looking for a man who is equal parts Pope Francis and Jimmy Fallon. I habitually use more paper towels than required for the task at hand. I find some of the spam we get on […]
Coming attractions
Before we forge ahead, let’s address the elephant in the room. Following Tashi‘s death, it feels sacrilegious to just pick up and go on with the business of joy.
Real live meowing Christmas miracle
There are Christmas miracles: “yes! Home Depot had one last Chia Uncle Si in the back!” Then there are Christmas miracles: “Twilight is home.”