Those who know cats know that cats are otherworldly. When our orbits cross paths, magic happens.
Happy New Year, kittens. Let us make a pact, today, while we still have confetti in our whiskers and something called “egg nog” in our fridges. (How did it get there? Who invented it? Why have we never had a Tabby’s Place cat named Nog? I digress.) Here’s the plan: we will not permit this […]
This has not been a normal holiday season. Fortunately, Tabby’s Place contains precisely zero normal cats, normal humans, or normal salamanders. (I can neither confirm nor deny the underground salamander kingdom of Tabby’s Place, nor their effective rule over the rest of us.)
It has come to my attention that certain individuals believe in the existence of excessive levity. None of these individuals happen to be cats.
I had one vacation day left. I really needed a vacation, but this just couldn’t cut it.
With a few notable exceptions (genocide, using the phrase “dad bod,” putting vegan cheese in baked ziti), I’m inclined to agree with John Lennon. Whatever gets you through the night is all right. (It’s all right.)
You gave us wonder and splendor. You gave us the return of Bill and Ted (see above). You gave us the feast day of St. Augustine, and the annual pondering as to whether or not his friends called him “Gus.” You gave us an uncommonly high volume of marmalade cats.