Every day at Tabby’s Place is eventful. This is especially true when the cats host big events for the public.
No. It’s too tempting. I am strong enough to resist. I am not going to write about Cinco de Meow. I am not going to write about Cinco de Meow. I am not going to … unless Juel asks me to.
Cats defy logic. Cats also defy reason. That is probably why a few cats at Tabby’s Place insist on breaking the rules about the non-touchability of bellies. These are the few, the proud, The Belly Boys.
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.
Proposal: We agree to Boobalah’s idea of holding a luau in the Tabby’s Place lobby.
You are hereby invited to make history. This could be the greatest Valentine’s weekend in the history of love. But that’s entirely in your hands.
“Is Murdock friendly? Can I move him to another crate for cleaning?” “Oh, yeah, as long as you aren’t trying to express his bowel, he’s fine.”
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.
If you want to watch the badminton quarterfinals, you will have to set your alarm for 3am. If you are passionate about pentathlon, you understand your event will not make prime time. But if you are a Tabby’s Place cat, you are too good of a sport to care if you are a popular sport.
Reality TV is overrated. Too many people, not enough cats. That’s where Tabby’s Place comes in.