It’s almost time, my little sweet potatoes. The paper cups are full of poultry. Anka has groomed himself to Great Aunt Gertrude’s standards. Gator promises not to chomp into anyone’s leg like a drumstick.* *Unless they bring up politics, discourage him from auditioning for The Golden Bachelor, or arrive without actual drumsticks. All that’s missing … […]
Today, we thank veterans. They have lived with courage so the world can live in peace. They have walked lonely roads of unseen sacrifice. They are shy about applause and accolades, uneasy with the word “hero.” And then … there are the cats.
It has come to our attention that some persons are uncertain as to the best use of Labor Day. Fortunately, Tabby’s Place has over one hundred experts on this topic.
At least once a week, someone tells me they are scared to visit Tabby’s Place. This always comes from someone blessed and challenged with a tender heart. They know their own softness. They fear they may not be able to bear the sight of cats who cannot walk, or seniors once discarded. They picture Tabby’s […]
Tabby’s Place has cared for dozens of paraplegic cats. We have given love by the gallon to cookies-and-cream cats. There have been a multitude of “Misters,” from Mr. Silverman to Mr. Grey to the matchless Mr. Man. But we have never seen the likes of Colonel Mr. Peabody.