Hang around Tabby’s Place, and you’ll hear peculiar things. “I need to squeeze six bladders before lunch.” “Half a salamander was found in Solarium B.” “We have a hostage situation in the back hallway. Hazey has the entire Junior Honor Society cornered. Negotiations have failed.” But there are three words you will never hear at […]
What is love, anyway? It is a question for the ages, not just for Howard Jones. At Tabby’s Place, the answer goes by many names.
When you are in a hopeless situation, every day is Ash Wednesday. You don’t need a smudge on your forehead. You wear grief like a tattoo. You don’t need someone to say, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” You remember all too well. But when you are a Tabby’s Place […]
Every month in Tabby’s Place history has been majestic. We are in the business of cats, so it cannot be otherwise. But January 2025 shines in a class of its own. Or rather, its Oram.
When does love make its landing? Do the wheels touch down only after some required minimum time in the air? Or does love define its own gravity? Fourteen cats depended on the answer.
I have had many office mates during my 18 years at Tabby’s Place. Just to be clear, they were all feline. They have spanned a wide range of ages, personalities and special needs. They have been various combinations of elderly, young, friendly, scared, blind, FIV+, obese and undoubtedly other characteristics I am forgetting. Some wanted […]
Today we remember. We remember battles and sacrifices, blooming in fields of freedom. We remember the quiet heroics of another species of warrior.
In a land of ice and fire and overthrown kings, you never know just who will rise to power. With all apologies to those vaguely Icelandic warrior folk over on HBO, the thrones of Tabby’s Place belong squarely to torties.
May it never be forgotten. And “auld lang syne” and all that good stuff. While we’re at it, let’s take a cup of kindness, too.
It has taken me two weeks to get the emotional strength to write this post. I figured I had cried myself dry and I knew that putting this down on “paper” would reopen the wounds. But it had to happen. Today is the day.