Do you ever wonder if you’re the only one who…?
There are so many ways to finish that sentence, and all of them feel lonely.
If you’re the only one who thought the evil vampire trio in the first Twilight looked like the Black-Eyed Peas?
If you’re the only one who thinks “let’s get ig’nant, let’s get hectic” is one of the finest examples of lyric poetry in our time?
If you’re the only one who thinks we should still call people by epic titles a la the Roman Empire, like “Pliny the Elder” or “Jonathan the Sage” or “Ginny the Brave” or “Webster the Incomparable”?
Or, more to the point, if you’re the only one who thinks saving a single, solitary cat is worth the best of our time and energy and effort and sweat and tears?
Do you ever feel like no one else on earth understands how you could spend so much time/money/tears on a creature who’s “just a cat” – and then become incensed over the use of the phrase “just a cat?”
Then this Thanksgiving, I invite you to step into the Tabby’s Place Thankitorium, because you are not alone.
We are with you. We are in on the Great Secret with you: love is still a worthy cause. Love for the tiniest and furriest and awkward-est and angriest. Love for the ones who need it most. Love for the ones who are easy-to-love. Love for the ones who seem to deserve it the least, even such as they are…especially because they are such as they are. Love, because Love is the Force and Maker of all that is and all that matters.
And, at the end of the day, at the end and the start and the middle of the day, I believe the cats exist to show us glints and glimmers of Love: how much we are loved, and how we are made to love. In rare and magical places like this one, they even bind us together – and I’m speaking of us human beans now – in common cause and love for one another.
And for that, I am thankful down to my marrow.
Let’s go into this Thanksgiving with just a few more reasons for gratitude at Tabby’s Place and beyond:
We currently have a cat named Impy. Impy. Yes, we are richly blessed.
Hooper – diabetic, perpetually-in-a-happy-coma Hooper – was adopted and is thriving elegantly. Ditto Victoria and Sophie and Paisley and Micah and Oneida.
Baby Liberty suffered a terrifying complication from her very routine spay surgery, and we thought she might be blind and visually-impaired forever…but 12 hours later, she was back to her glorious normal normal-for-Libby.
And, in perhaps the most epic and extraordinary instance of gratefulness-inducing wonder ever: Webster exists on this earth.
We are richly blessed, Felis Catus fam, and I thank God for you. Whether this Thanksgiving finds you bursting your buttons and bound for the vomitorium (Pliny the Elder would understand) or simply praising your Maker with dear ones, know that my heart is full and happy thanks to you.
And that goes double for over 100 very fortunate cats.