Normal is mythological. It just doesn’t exist. What exists are lots of things that are scattershot all over the place, and, when averaged out, yield a mean value that we call “normal.” But, normal is just not…normal. Normal is unusual. Normal is strange, especially at Tabby’s Place.
I have good news and bad news. You’re never actually done. Neither is Sturgeon. But that’s just one of many excellent qualities you share with this big fish.
Friends are reuniting. F*R*I*E*N*D*S are reuniting. As months go, you might say this May was The One With High Hopes. Then again, we are in the business of cats, so hopes around here are always Himalaya-high.
Come ye, kittens, to our monthly wrap-up, and I shall show ye great and terrible things from the furthest realms. Which is to say, cats, in galumphing abundance, from the strangest town in central New Jersey.
Intakes are good: Cats. Breath. One another’s faces and voices and real, physical presences and essences. But in times like these, intakes can take us by surprise and take command of our trembling hearts.