Oh August, sweet little August, you are young yet, and tender. Yet as you grow, we have a request for you. On behalf of every individual of every species on every continent, subcontinent and islet: please be kind.
In times of tumult, we need brave, tender leadership. We need a face full of light, a heart full of love, and a strong, sturdy spine that remembers how to dance. We need (so very much) humility. We need someone less like an emperor and more like a Town Councilman.*
Love comes in all shapes, sizes, colors, vectors, and ways. Love can grow slowly, strengthening with time and togetherness. Love can creep up on us like a cat on the prowl, knocking us off our feet, taking our breath away, and leaving us wondering what hit us after it escapes out grasp.
We’ve done it, kittens. We’ve danced right off the edge of a decade.
You have heard of the Kitten Room. You would think, having heard of said Kitten Room, that said room contains kittens, whole kittens, and nothing but the kittens. But, as aforementioned Kitten Room is contained by the larger bizarro world known as Tabby’s Place, you would be incorrect.
Living, breathing, feeling creatures are never as simple as they seem. This kind of complexity can be positive. It can be negative. Or, it can be downright Eva.
Tabby’s Place has a room for kittens, exotically called The Kitten Room. Tabby’s Place has a window from aforementioned Kitten Room directly into the center of our Lobby. Tabby’s Place has gotten used to visitors peering into The Kitten Room from the Lobby and declaring, “There are no kittens in your Kitten Room anymoaaahhh.”
We are In It. The Most Wonderful Time of the Year(TM). The Holiday Season. The ThankChanChriKwaNewYear pentathlon of extravagance and emotion and love and angst. The cats have not noticed.