So here we stand, at the end and the beginning. Cats know that there are only ever beginnings. Cats know many things beyond our reach. But they are gentle, and permit us to believe in figments — endings, the concept of “age appropriate,” the existence of credible vegan cheese — as long as necessary. Perhaps […]
November has a rickety reputation among cats. Braggarts belch about turkeys, but no Butterballs roll into the Tabby’s Place lobby. (Prescott checked under all the chairs. None.) There are credible rumors of something entitled “stuffing,” but limited evidence beyond garlicky human kisses. It’s almost enough to make a cat stop giving thanks.
Oh, kittens. The situation is dire. The cats have called a special session of Tabby’s Place Parliament. The issue at hand: whether they can forgive us for October 2023.
The Tabby’s Place cats voted, and it was unanimous. October is the best month. It’s Tabby’s Place’s anniversary. It’s so spooky and shivery that “cuddling cats” becomes non-negotiable. It’s when the world turns the color of processed cheese.
There must be some hidden hoard of helium in the walls of Tabby’s Place. How else to explain the ups and downs of August, our hearts bobbing like airships?
As August ambushes July with a Super Soaker, we’re feeling ruffled in Ringoes. Cats are reasonable. They do not expect life to be a constant stream of meat products. They accept that sometimes the best they can do is a burger made of twenty slices of cheese. But no one at Tabby’s Place can accept […]
Ask the experts: did we fail or prevail at Tabby’s Place this June? Any month involving the Strawberry Moon would seem a guaranteed success. But the experts are not so sure.
T.S. Eliot, who first discovered that every cat has three names, declared April to be “the cruelest month.” Clearly he did not know the names of Mayhem, Crumpet, or Patches.
O! You wondrous creatures, you radiant Tabby’s Place residents! You are equally at home in winter and spring, dropping long-tailed poetry like petals across the month that makes seasons kiss. You Marched through our days as children of the Tabby’s Place promise, blossoms beloved simply because you are ours. You made us yours. And to […]
We know you come to Tabby’s Place for unflinching journalistic integrity. You know the foundation of a free society is a feline press. You count on us for the hard-hitting questions that no one else is asking. To that end: “What does Chicken do at night?”