The measure of a year depends entirely on the scale. For thirteen lucky cats, 2016 was the grandest year of all.
Cats do not ford rivers.* Cats do not gas up the car. To Grandmother’s house they do not go. But they travel, my word do they travel.
October and all of its surprises are in the books. Cubs in the Series. Cats in girdles. Swiss-cheesey holes in undisclosed locations.
In one of the greatest books of all time, one of the greatest characters of all time said, “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” That makes two of us, Anne Shirley. After all, Octobers include cats.
The songwriters of the world can’t quite agree about September. Some want to remember it.* Some are trying to remember it. Some just want to be awakened when it ends. And then there are the cats.