“They” tell me it is now Meteorological Autumn. “They” say kitten season is on the wane. But the great, proverbial “they” don’t know a thing about the endless summer of cats.
Anyone who’s lived with cats or children or saints knows: higher creatures have their own calendars. It’s only us earthbound types who think holidays are sparsely scattershot across the year.
By the time you read this post, nerd prom will be over, the madding crowd will be far away, and a big green chap and his gangsters will be avenging on our behalf.* But much more importantly, things will have happened. They will have happened…because cats made them happen.
Sometimes it seems like this old world’s tree is being shaken down to its roots. Nepal. Baltimore. Yemen. Leaves scattered to the four winds. When the foundations are crumbling, what can the righteous do? Borrow the gaze of smaller, sager creatures.
OK, winter, we get it: you’re stronger than us. You dang near broke Boston. March came in like a lion and out like a friggin’ manticore. Yes, you’re stronger than us. You’re stronger…but we’re cuter. And scrappier. And we have much, much better musical taste.