Epilogues: September 2024
When you are a Tabby’s Place cat, you infuse every square inch of time with importance. There are no mundane months around here. Yet even our gourds and ladies know: there is something about October.
When you are a Tabby’s Place cat, you infuse every square inch of time with importance. There are no mundane months around here. Yet even our gourds and ladies know: there is something about October.
It’s been a July to remember. We learned that Kanye West is a blowfish, not a shark. We saw a movie in which a raccoon did the talking for a man who’s a tree. And we rode a rocket of changes with a raft of cats.
Body language is notoriously complex. This is all the more fraught with peril since cats are notoriously subtle, and humans are notoriously dim.
If you like to sing-a, say, about: 1. The moon-a 2. The June-a and/or 3. The spring-a, you are in luck. May has gone, The June-a has come, and it brings you cat tidings.
Tra-la… It’s May, which means spring is about to get real. We’re talking dogwoods. Tulips. Hydrangeas. And kittens. Baby kittens. Bring on the brain-liquefying, IQ-annihilating powers of kittens and their nuclear cuteness.