Every day is a party at Tabby’s Place. There are shenanigans. There is tomfoolery. There’s enough Party Mix to make a trail to Neptune and back. But one day still stands apart.
It’s Christmas Eve Eve Eve Eve, so I’ll let my words be few: Thank you.
Angela interjects: We — feline, human and otherwise — had hoped that volunteer Tara would write guest blog posts for Sweet Pea for a long, long time. Our hopes were dashed on the sorrow of a too-short life. But Tara’s love of the Tabby’s Place cats lives on, as does her wondrous way with words, […]
Today is the first day of winter…meteorological winter. The cats are celebrating accordingly.
For the fruits of your labors, the Tabby’s Place cats thank you. You donate. You share our stories. You pray. You love. You labor your legwarmers off…and your labors do not go unnoticed.
Friends who are teachers tell me: the full moon phenomenon is full-stop truth. Small people get hugely bananas under a grinning round glowball. Friends who work at Tabby’s Place agree: small and large and colossal cats are no different.
Supposedly, it’s March hares that are madder than a hatter. But, ’round here, May is the month of mirthful, mind-splattering madness, courtesy of 100,000,000,000 kittens.*
April, are you really the cruelest month? You took one Prince, but you gave us another in his bathrobe. You took too many friends, but you promised to return them in an April that will never end.