Dour is not your name
O, hairy licorice twist, how shall we describe you? You are the black cat who uses every crayon in the box. You are the alphabet in ecstasy. You are not dour, but Doury. You have chosen well.
After the ashes
When you are in a hopeless situation, every day is Ash Wednesday. You don’t need a smudge on your forehead. You wear grief like a tattoo. You don’t need someone to say, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” You remember all too well. But when you are a Tabby’s Place […]
Kitty LeFey’s Cosmos: Wobbly in the Lobby
What is black as midnight, falls over with eagerness, and peeps conversationally with people and felines alike? Why, it’s none other than Doury!
Epilogues: January 2025
Every month in Tabby’s Place history has been majestic. We are in the business of cats, so it cannot be otherwise. But January 2025 shines in a class of its own. Or rather, its Oram.
The fab fourteen
When does love make its landing? Do the wheels touch down only after some required minimum time in the air? Or does love define its own gravity? Fourteen cats depended on the answer.