There goes the neighborhood
At Tabby’s Place, we maintain the highest standards of journalistic integrity. Thus, we must issue a retraction of some recent reporting. Comparisons of Mr. Rogers to Mr. Rogers may have been premature.
At Tabby’s Place, we maintain the highest standards of journalistic integrity. Thus, we must issue a retraction of some recent reporting. Comparisons of Mr. Rogers to Mr. Rogers may have been premature.
Ahoy, me hearties! Avast ye! It might seem a wee bit strange, but Tabby’s Place is being run like a pirate ship these days. The cats (and several hundred people) are keeping things under smooth sail, no matter how the winds blow or when there are seas of change.
In a world of lanterns and candles, Abacus was the bonfire. He would love to be remembered as the cat whose fever never broke.
Saving cats calls for courage. We do not give up on any life. We love with all our strength. But sometimes, we get very sad and very tired. We feel tiny. At times like this, we need someone “little” to remind us why we’re here.
We try not to have favorites at Tabby’s Place. We fail. “We” is all-inclusive of our furred and non-furred delegations.
This might not be apparent to the naked eye, but Tabby’s Place offers a doctoral program in mathematics. Take it from a naked guy with stars in his eyes.
Every cat at Tabby’s Place is an expert. We are packed to the gills with authorities, on topics ranging from parmigiana to campaign finance reform. But there are experts, there are authorities, and then there are scholars.
Checkers would never tell you this himself. But with tears in our eyes and white fur on our jeans, we need the world to know. Checkers was a king.
When someone tells you they don’t like cats, you have two options. You can call the police. Or you can ask them, “why?” (While dialing the police.)
We have lived so many lives since the year was new. January’s resolutions are wadded up like parking tickets and Burger King receipts under our seats. But the Abacus is ready for a reset.