Epilogues: January 2018
Wait. Did we not just epp a log? We did. But that’s because I’m a dunderhead. So dance around in your dungarees, you January-jousting kittens; it’s time for another month in review.
Wait. Did we not just epp a log? We did. But that’s because I’m a dunderhead. So dance around in your dungarees, you January-jousting kittens; it’s time for another month in review.
We live in an age of indignation. Much of it is necessary. But much of it is just noxious.
There have been a multitude of Mimis in Tabby’s Place history. Each one is convinced that she is the Mimi with the tragic beauty, the Bohemian who lights every candle as her own burns at both ends. But only one Mimi takes center stage at Tabby’s Place today.
That title isn’t exactly accurate. Geriatric throw-downs, plural, endless in plurality, would be more like it.
One of the first birthday presents I remember receiving was a Casio keyboard. Although this did not launch me to the levels of Keyboard Cat or Nora, it helped prepare me for Anneke and Mimi.
Oh December. Just when we’re ready to write you off as a dastardly doer of dastardly deeds, you give us a thrill of hope, and some out-of-season kittens.
October and all of its surprises are in the books. Cubs in the Series. Cats in girdles. Swiss-cheesey holes in undisclosed locations.
Fear not: our adopters have not taken to collective spontaneous combustion. What they have done is cause our hearts to grow at least 470 times in size.