You are hereby invited to make history. This could be the greatest Valentine’s weekend in the history of love. But that’s entirely in your hands.
“How do you remember their names?” “How do you tell them all apart?” They are reasonable questions. Still, I stammer every time. How do you explain how easy it is to know the cats?
Yes, we’re going there. No, there is not some other Olive here. Yes, I believe there is a person in the Tabby’s Place family with a big enough heart to break our hearts.
“Is Murdock friendly? Can I move him to another crate for cleaning?” “Oh, yeah, as long as you aren’t trying to express his bowel, he’s fine.”
Today is the day. The world is waiting, breathless, to see what we will decide. We may not know the outcome by the time we go to sleep. Only history can tell if we chose wisely. History, and Olive.
Oliver! is an orange and white swirl of cream and sherbet. He needs…nay, demands…to be celebrated with a musical all of his own. Yes, his name should be punctuated with an exclamation point.
Reality TV is overrated. Too many people, not enough cats. That’s where Tabby’s Place comes in.
There have been many father figures at Tabby’s Place. But there has only ever been one Poppa. Maybe two.
Any one day has a way of being something different for all beings. For cats, such days can be wrapped in delicately smoked trout on crunchy crackers, or they can be whipped into a frenzy of furtive, furry activity.
It’s not just you. It’s not just Olive. Everyone is going through a hard time. Good thing we know a sanctuary.