Forever Loved: Morgan
What I really have to say about this topic is simple: NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!
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What I really have to say about this topic is simple: NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!
“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.
If you have not been hiding inside a tree or running for President, you are aware: Pope Francis is in da house. No, not Tabby’s Place, alas. But, as I type these words, the Pope is a mere hundred miles from Ringoes, NJ, and he’s got us having all kinds of papal fun-cio.
This may sound scandalous, but it’s a fact: At Tabby’s Place, we regularly see cats do Bad Things.
We are about a lot of things at Tabby’s Place. We are about love. We are about “the least of these.” We are very much about Veggie Straws, and the color orange, and obscure names for kittens. But we are not, and have frankly never been, about the numbers.
OK, winter, we get it: you’re stronger than us. You dang near broke Boston. March came in like a lion and out like a friggin’ manticore. Yes, you’re stronger than us. You’re stronger…but we’re cuter. And scrappier. And we have much, much better musical taste.
When you’re human, it’s easy to drowse into climate-controlled forgetfulness. But when you live with cats, it’s impossible to forget that you are more than your mind.
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.
If you were a certain age and a certain level of dorkiness in the early ’90s, you wished with all your socially-awkward soul that you could join the crew at Camp Anawanna. The cats cannot make that dream come true for you. They can, however, give you a camp experience worth saluting. They can…and they […]