Fionahhhhh
Your name is more than something the deli guy yells when your sliced slaw is ready. It’s a certain signal to your essence. This is never truer than when it changes. And it’s never, ever truer than when you’re a cat.
Epilogues: April 2015
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.
Tortie reform
My barrister friends have often said that, when it comes to law school, if you make it through torts, you can make it. I assumed this famously difficult class on torts must be on the topic of torts, as in, wrongful acts leading to civil legal liability. Now I know: it was on tortoiseshell cats.
Gratuitous cat photo of the day: Fiona
We hereby open this year’s Gratuitous Cat Photo season with a golden oldie.
Neverending specialness
Twenty-nine out of thirty Awesome Humans have a ready answer to the following question. What makes your cat truly special?
You gotta have friends
You won’t make it long in this world if you don’t have friends. There’s no Words With Yourself. Joe Cocker didn’t get by with a little help from his self. Anne of Green Gables wasn’t searching for a bosom self. You gotta have friends. Fortunately, the Tabby’s Place cats have you covered.
Well Pollenated neighborhood
Tabby’s Place has a lot in common with New York City. I don’t mean the fashion, the graffiti or even the undying affection of Woody Allen. I mean the neighborhoods.
Game of torties
In a land of ice and fire and overthrown kings, you never know just who will rise to power. With all apologies to those vaguely Icelandic warrior folk over on HBO, the thrones of Tabby’s Place belong squarely to torties.
Collectibles
People collect all sorts of things. Thimbles. Baseball cards. Statues of Frodo Baggins. Dust. Vintage hats. Vintage cats.