We work hard to prevent feline fatherhood at Tabby’s Place. This is the all-important “N” at the center of TNR. (That’s “Trap, Neuter, Return,” not “Turkey, Nuggets, Ravioli,” no matter what Bello tries to tell you.) But you can be a great Dad without having a single kitten. So today, we salute the top Pops […]
It is a pleasure welcoming new cats. New cats are nifty, awesome and swell. But old cats have a patina, and a double portion of panache. And old Smokey has fire that has nothing to do with age.
Today is the day. The world is waiting, breathless, to see what we will decide. We may not know the outcome by the time we go to sleep. Only history can tell if we chose wisely. History, and Olive.
When someone tells you they don’t like cats, you have two options. You can call the police. Or you can ask them, “why?” (While dialing the police.)
Tabby’s Place has a veteran diva worthy of the great opera houses of Sydney, Australia, Milan, Italy, and New York City.
Oh, kittens! If ever we needed cats, it’s now. We are in Olympics withdrawal. Target is trying to boondoggle us into believing we are behind on holiday shopping. And no matter where we hide, it is still an election year.
Reality TV is overrated. Too many people, not enough cats. That’s where Tabby’s Place comes in.
The main lobby at Tabby’s Place is often a hubbub of activity. Even so, it is the perfect place for staff, volunteers, and visitors to take a break and regroup with some friendly felines for company. Companionable cats fill the lobby with their warmth, zest, and shenanigans.
The first time I met Smokey, I did not exactly meet Smokey. I beheld Smokey beholding Smokey in the eyes of a beholder. This is the ideal introduction to Smokey.
You wily time-travelers, what are we going to do with you? Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.