The world is weeping. Our brothers and sisters are shuddering in subways, crawling across borders, bearing their children and their grandparents and their ragged animals on their backs. Are we supposed to bask in jolly cat happenings at such a time as this?
This has not been a normal holiday season. Fortunately, Tabby’s Place contains precisely zero normal cats, normal humans, or normal salamanders. (I can neither confirm nor deny the underground salamander kingdom of Tabby’s Place, nor their effective rule over the rest of us.)
Tonight, little ghouls and ninja turtles and Groots and Elsas will descend upon your doorstep demanding confections. Next month, the leader of the free world will pardon a turkey. And within the span of seven magical days, we’ve got the pleasures of National Cat Day, All Saints’ Day, All Souls’ Day, and the silencing of […]
Take a moment and glance at your calendar. What does it tell you? It’s Thursday, October 16th. It’s Boss’s Day.* It’s Flea‘s birthday. It’s the 630th anniversary of Jadwiga being crowned King of Poland. It’s the eve of Wear Something Gaudy Day. But, much more than this, it’s National Feral Cat Day.
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.