Latepilogues: November 2016
It’s true, kittens. We almost forgot to remember November.
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Climb every carpeted box
Many people would benefit from your freaking out right now. The cats are not among those people.
No justice, no…problem
Ask not for whom the Community Room door opens; it opens for thee. Unless thou art Jackie. Or Hildegarde. Or Boots. Or — heaven help us — Olive.
Lard and ashes
One day, carnival carousing. The next, dust and ashes. Such is the Lenten kickoff dance.
Rave on
Much like the New York Times, Felis Catus is committed to journalistic integrity. Unlike the New York Times, Felis Catus has the advantage of feline editors.
To know, know, know them…and you
I confess befuddlement before the cult of celebrity. I have never been one to dream of catching a wispy glimpse of someone known to many someones. This is as true of famous humans* as it is of famous cats.
To err
Any self-respecting feline will tell you: cats do not err. They do surprise you. They do make last-minute course corrections. But they do not make mistakes. N-O-N, no.
Ashin' in
Ash Wednesday has arrived. Numberless believers will accept a smudge of ashes today, a reminder that we’re dust, we’re fragile, we’re broken, and we desperately need Easter’s Resurrection. Laden with tradition, this is a mysterious, meaningful day for millions the world over. As masters of meaning, the Tabby’s Place cats have, of course, co-opted the […]
Party gras
Today marks the eve of Lent, that serious season when folks make a spiritual practice of fasting from such things as injustice and selfishness and chocolate and Facebook. But before all that introspective stuff, folks get fat, Tuesday-style. So, of course, do cats.
Epilogues: November 2013
Mashed taters: eaten. Great uncles and aunties: kissed. November: accomplished.