Holidays are terrific, terrible reminders of all the feelings you have ever felt. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you are a cyborg. And you know and I know that you’re as real as life and breath and egg nog.
Many people would benefit from your freaking out right now. The cats are not among those people.
The songwriters of the world can’t quite agree about September. Some want to remember it.* Some are trying to remember it. Some just want to be awakened when it ends. And then there are the cats.
Everyone is someone’s favorite, even if the only Someone is God. But Mario…Mario was everyone’s favorite.
“Who is that cat?” “Which cat?” “The one with the thing. You know, the thing. That thing. The neck thing.”
Has it ever occurred to you that giving thanks is a radical act? That’s radical as in courageous maverick pioneer, not Point Break.
You did not ask the cats for advice for what to do with yourself this Labor Day. Fortunately, cats like giving unsolicited advice.
There is so much news exploding at Tabby’s Place today, you’d think it was the Fourth of July. It isn’t. It’s better.
Much like the New York Times, Felis Catus is committed to journalistic integrity. Unlike the New York Times, Felis Catus has the advantage of feline editors.
Well, do you? It is not Feliz Navidad. It is not an ad for footie pajamas. It is…