Supposedly, it’s March hares that are madder than a hatter. But, ’round here, May is the month of mirthful, mind-splattering madness, courtesy of 100,000,000,000 kittens.*
Ash Wednesday has arrived. Numberless believers will accept a smudge of ashes today, a reminder that we’re dust, we’re fragile, we’re broken, and we desperately need Easter’s Resurrection. Laden with tradition, this is a mysterious, meaningful day for millions the world over. As masters of meaning, the Tabby’s Place cats have, of course, co-opted the […]
People with lots of letters after their names say that January is very, very hard. They say that more of us are sad and snarky and downright dangerous to ourselves and others in this month. They say a lot of things.
October 16th was National Feral Cat Day. October 16th was also Boss’s Day. Coincidence?*
It has come to my attention that, every spring, those buttoned-up and staid Brits engage in a sport befitting crumpets and Queens. They chase a nine-pound ball of cheese down a steep hill.*
You may have heard it said, “believe half the things you see, and none of the things you hear.” But I say unto you: go ahead and believe all the things you hear in Suite A.
Think carefully before you answer this one. At your twenty-year high school reunion, do you want to be immediately recognizable? Before you answer too swiftly, I present you a cautionary tale from Feta and Bleu.
Chickens are best left uncounted until they’re hatched. Gold medals are best left un-boasted-of until they’re swinging around your neck. Adoptions are best left unblogged until they’re official.
When in the course of feline events, it becomes necessary for one cat suite to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to […]
Many things are best when heated. Italian bread. Fluffy towels. Apple pie. Unspayed feral cats.