Epilogues: August 2023
There must be some hidden hoard of helium in the walls of Tabby’s Place. How else to explain the ups and downs of August, our hearts bobbing like airships?
There must be some hidden hoard of helium in the walls of Tabby’s Place. How else to explain the ups and downs of August, our hearts bobbing like airships?
As August ambushes July with a Super Soaker, we’re feeling ruffled in Ringoes. Cats are reasonable. They do not expect life to be a constant stream of meat products. They accept that sometimes the best they can do is a burger made of twenty slices of cheese. But no one at Tabby’s Place can accept […]
People say that Labor Day marks the end of summer. People say that white shoes are not okay after said day. People say a lot of things. But if you’ve had the kind of August our cats have had, you’re still sloshing white espadrilles through the endless summer stew.
It’s been a July to remember. We learned that Kanye West is a blowfish, not a shark. We saw a movie in which a raccoon did the talking for a man who’s a tree. And we rode a rocket of changes with a raft of cats.