The world is a little less hairy today. Tabby’s Place is mourning the passing of one Ms. Claudette.
At Tabby’s Place today, we were discussing matters of an actuarial nature. This is as exciting as it sounds. Actuarial questions include, “How long can a cat with Disease Z be estimated to survive?” and “What are the projected expenses for the duration of Average Cat X’s life?” Actuarial angst ultimately boils down to, “How […]
It’s been said that it’s harder to make people laugh than to make them cry. Lady Grey and Babs deserve high honors for having made us do both.
I intended this to be a happy-clappy post about adopted Tabby’s Place veterans. I anticipated making cracks about Doritos-flavored Mountain Dew and Oreo Churros. But once again, we’re betwixt and between the quick and the dead. Grizzled, glorious Sylvia has left this earth.
Editor’s note: Yesterday morning, Tabby’s Place was rocked by the passing of longtime resident Beatrice. Volunteer Larry, who perennially referred to Beatrice in his Texas drawl as “mah sweetheart,” was so kind as to pen the following tribute.
The world is a little less weird today, a little less explosive, a little less giddy and grand. We’ve lost the phenomenon known as Hootz.
There is no good way to lose a cat. Preparation doesn’t make us prepared. Sudden loss doesn’t spare us long grief. There is no good way.
Winnie the Pooh said it best: “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”
There is something artificial about setting aside one particular day to remember. Artificial, yes. But also merciful.
We debate the following to no end at Tabby’s Place: Is it easier to say goodbye when we’ve had a long time to prepare? Or does the suddenness of loss spare us a searing season of grief?