Two homecomings
At Tabby’s Place, we live from the heart. We are so close to life, we can’t shield ourselves from death. We are so familiar with death, we can’t take life for granted. We are so sure of “forever,” we learn many meanings for “home.”
Forever Loved: Dewie
How do we do this? I understand why people ask. If we can answer, maybe we can be ready next time. We can wrap that answer in a handkerchief and carry it in our pockets. The next time sadness is taller than we are, we can grasp that answer like a key, or an EpiPen, […]
Forever Loved: Abacus
In a world of lanterns and candles, Abacus was the bonfire. He would love to be remembered as the cat whose fever never broke.
Forever Loved: Tinker
I want to tell you about Tinker, though it may seem there is little to say. I want to tell you about Tinker, though we could not disassemble death in time. I want to tell you about Tinker, because every hair on his head mattered.
Forever Loved: Jack
His purr was a kazoo orchestra from another planet. His eyes were green apples, sweet and scampish. His love was the lantern that made everyone grin. Jack was too many miracles to fit in one box.
Still here
It’s better that we don’t know in advance, don’t you think? If you told us, in May 2024, which cat beds would be empty in May 2025, we wouldn’t have had the strength to bear it.
Forever Loved: Puff
We should have known better. Feline leukemia virus is not “nothing.” We, of all people, should have known better. But when the choice is to know better or to know deeper, we choose to dive.
Forever Loved: Popples
Last summer, Tabby’s Place had the honor of rescuing graceful grey cats. Many graceful grey cats. Yet despite the family resemblance, each was one of a kind. Today, we are grieving the one and only Popples.
Forever Loved: Lola
When you love like Lola loved, you are larger than life. When you live like Lola lived, you don’t leave anyone feeling small. But when you leave us, we can’t imagine life without you.
Forever Loved: Mr. Man
He was 7-Up, not Chardonnay. He was a tie-dyed RV, not an Aston Martin. He was Foosball, not figure skating; Cartoon Network, not CNBC; flannel, not cashmere. So, how our most casual, comfortable cat get a title and a tuxedo? Simple: Mr. Man always had a sense of occasion.
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