Forever Loved: Pancake
It is and isn’t worse when it’s a kitten. People do and don’t understand.
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She did not write with fine point pens. She did not dress in age-appropriate beige. She will not let the colors fade.
We get more than we pay for at Tabby’s Place. But some days, we wish the price was not so high.
He arrived geriatric and intergalactic. He was the patriarch of impossible panache. Mortimer would make no time for mourning, but mere mortals must weep.
When you are a tortoiseshell of vast dignity, you are entitled to your secrets. Roxy gave me permission to tell you one: she loved Neil Young.
On a cold spring day, we are the world’s vagabonds. We huddle together on the sharp corner of hope. Our begging bowls are empty, and our eyes are full of tears. We’ve lost two kittens.
I don’t typically write eulogies for adopted cats. But there was nothing typical about Crinkle Bob.
The difference between cats and the rest of us is that we forget what’s inside of us. At best, we think of ourselves as oranges, fragile skin around sweetness. Mostly, we think of ourselves as piñatas, not sure what lies within until the hour hits us. We hope we’re more than a momentary sugar rush. […]
Beloved Tabby’s Place family, Even in a week of cosmic sorrow, nothing compares to this goodbye. Rose was, is, and will ever be the blooming heart of Tabby’s Place. Our garden is ragged with grief today. To honor all that Rose means to us, we’ll be sending her off in two parts. We begin with […]
She mattered. The world never knew her. No golden frames contained her face. Her story was as silent as snow. She mattered.