It’s almost time, my little sweet potatoes. The paper cups are full of poultry. Anka has groomed himself to Great Aunt Gertrude’s standards. Gator promises not to chomp into anyone’s leg like a drumstick.* *Unless they bring up politics, discourage him from auditioning for The Golden Bachelor, or arrive without actual drumsticks. All that’s missing … […]
Gator is open to a world of perspectives. Gator understands that people of goodwill can disagree on many matters. Gator also believes in telling people when they are wrong.
The cats have a beef to pick with you and me. They can’t agree whether it’s a roast beef or a corned beef. Regardless, we’re really in trouble this time.
We try not to have favorites at Tabby’s Place. We fail. “We” is all-inclusive of our furred and non-furred delegations.
When I am not comparing Gator to Matthew McConaughey or administering squeeze-tuna directly into the mouths of feline celebrities, I am raising money for Tabby’s Place. (This enables us to procure additional squeeze-tuna for feline celebrities. It’s all full circle.) I am called “Development Director,” because “Moneypenny” was taken. This carries the occupational hazard of […]
In all the land, there is only one Gator. We currently have him. He is ours. We want you to take him. We want you to break our hearts.
Today is the day. The world is waiting, breathless, to see what we will decide. We may not know the outcome by the time we go to sleep. Only history can tell if we chose wisely. History, and Olive.
What do you do when you throw a party, but no one wants to dance? Well, you bring everyone to the neighbors’ house, of course.
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 […]