Who is this swaggering stranger introducing itself as 2025? What did it do with 2024, or 1981 for that matter? Do cats follow any calendar, other than the primordial cycle of giblets and nuggets? And most importantly: how does Theodosia, age one hundred nine, remain untouched by years?
Editor’s note: treasured volunteer Tara was “supposed to” share Sweet Pea’s stories for a good, long time. Sweetness was supposed to linger. But when things don’t go to plan, love still sings its song. Thanks to Tara for writing this all-too-soon tribute.
April, sweet April, T.S. Eliot had you all wrong. You’re not the cruellest month. You’re not trying to show us fear in a handful of dust.
It’s my pleasure to introduce you to a new voice on the blog, terrific volunteer Tara. (As mama to Tabby’s Place alumnae Peggy and Dottie, nee Wawa and Kiosk, “terrific” comes with the territory.) It’s my even greater pleasure to introduce you to a face you’ll never forget, Sweet Pea. Take it away, dear ladies…
For a short month, February makes a lot of noise. But then, February does hang out with Bear.
Kittens, this is a special day. It’s March. It’s the feast day of St. Albinus. But, most pertinent to the cats and you and me, it’s Ash Wednesday…and Meteorological Spring.
Oh December. Just when we’re ready to write you off as a dastardly doer of dastardly deeds, you give us a thrill of hope, and some out-of-season kittens.