Hang around Tabby’s Place, and you’ll hear peculiar things. “I need to squeeze six bladders before lunch.” “Half a salamander was found in Solarium B.” “We have a hostage situation in the back hallway. Hazey has the entire Junior Honor Society cornered. Negotiations have failed.” But there are three words you will never hear at […]
The world is a bewildering place for small mammals like you, me, and Colonel Peabody. People shout. Mercy gets lost in a pile of old papers. Boar’s Head announces that liverwurst “won’t be available for purchase or consumption, ever again.” (Peabody would have been OK if it were available for purchase but not consumption. Peabody […]
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.
Who is this swaggering stranger introducing itself as 2025? What did it do with 2024, or 1981 for that matter? Do cats follow any calendar, other than the primordial cycle of giblets and nuggets? And most importantly: how does Theodosia, age one hundred nine, remain untouched by years?
No one gets out of November unscathed: not you, not me, and not the star-crossed onions who gave their lives to surf your Aunt Lurlene’s green bean casserole. Elections cause feelings. Thanksgivings cause feelings. The last chrysanthemum falling to the ground? The poet trees turned naked as prose? Feelings. Feelings. Feelings. The only cure for […]
Some days were Smarties, and some were nefarious Necco wafers. Some cats let us dress them up in our love, and others let us dress them up like iridescent snails. But for all its ups and downs, at Tabby’s Place, October is always a treat.
When you are a Tabby’s Place cat, you infuse every square inch of time with importance. There are no mundane months around here. Yet even our gourds and ladies know: there is something about October.
Oh, kittens! If ever we needed cats, it’s now. We are in Olympics withdrawal. Target is trying to boondoggle us into believing we are behind on holiday shopping. And no matter where we hide, it is still an election year.
The Pops, Grandpops, and miscellaneous Poppas and Pappys have been celebrated. The mortarboards have been thrown. The Strawberry Moon has set. June 2024 has been juiced to the last drop. The Tabby’s Place cats hereby welcome you to the Best Summer Ever.
You wily time-travelers, what are we going to do with you? Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.