Epilogues: December 2015
Breathe in deeply, kittens. Can you sense it?
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This can be a funny time of year. Not funny-ha-ha; funny like Election Day, or hemorrhoids, or ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife.
This is a wild, woolly world. We’ve got global goals and global griefs. We’ve got water on Mars and Macklemore back on the charts. Fortunately, we’ve also got gobs of cat news.
“They” tell me it is now Meteorological Autumn. “They” say kitten season is on the wane. But the great, proverbial “they” don’t know a thing about the endless summer of cats.
It’s August, kittens. August. The month of pterodactyl-sized bugs and Venus-high heat and the first flirtations with fall.
If you’re reading this post, you’re doing July right. Before you can properly celebrate Independence Day, Bastille Day, and Tapioca Pudding Day, you must know how the cats spent all the days of June.
If you read Felis Catus on the regular, you know: we do our Epilogues on the first Friday of the month. That’s Friday as in tomorrow, as in, not today. However, there’s news of Jurassic proportions barreling our way tomorrow. We don’t want to unveil this epic information before it’s officially hatched, though, hence the […]
By the time you read this post, nerd prom will be over, the madding crowd will be far away, and a big green chap and his gangsters will be avenging on our behalf.* But much more importantly, things will have happened. They will have happened…because cats made them happen.
OK, winter, we get it: you’re stronger than us. You dang near broke Boston. March came in like a lion and out like a friggin’ manticore. Yes, you’re stronger than us. You’re stronger…but we’re cuter. And scrappier. And we have much, much better musical taste.