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.
You are hereby invited to make history. This could be the greatest Valentine’s weekend in the history of love. But that’s entirely in your hands.
“The holiday season” is a tangled string of lights, isn’t it? There are sugar cookies from salty relatives and flashes of forgiveness under the icicles. There are people trying to convince us that Hess Trucks have something to do with Christmas, or that shriveled cherries belong in cake. And then there is Lola, bearing the […]
When we are children, we do our own stunts. We tell our parents we want nuggets, not broccoli. We tell a stranger with a white polyester beard that we want dinosaurs. We are brave. We say what we want. Then we grow up and get scared. Well, this holiday season, I am channeling my inner […]
What do you do when you throw a party, but no one wants to dance? Well, you bring everyone to the neighbors’ house, of course.
One Sunday, I had a particularly lovely visit with Honey. The next day, I wrote the original version of this blog. The day after, Honey journeyed through the veil, crossed the rainbow bridge, and passed beyond my sight.
Our “adoptable cats” page is like a dating site, minus the treachery, plus extra shirtless photos. Steven is not trying to convince you he still fits into his high school pants. Angelo did not use an app to bathe his face in golden light. Betty has no interest in your believing she is only eight. […]
At Tabby’s Place, if one is a ceramic cat of beauty and poise, it is difficult to retain one’s head in situ when in situ means in the lobby.
“Raisin does not like Rosalind.” “One of the kittens pooped in the sink.” “I have found my vocation; my vocation is love.”
Treasuring our elders is something we do very earnestly at Tabby’s Place. It is the quintessential multi-generational home.