If you are reading this post, I know two things about you with a fair degree of confidence.
1) You are not at Bonnaroo.*
2) You have given to the Linda Fund.
If #1 weren’t true, you’d be too busy moshing your Warby Parkers clean off your face in a mud pit to read this humble blog.
If #2 weren’t true, I’d have time to do a proper post.
You guys, you have been insane, by which I mean spectacular, by which I mean Midas-touching our cats nonstop. Have you seen the Linda Fund Casper-o-meter lately? Our ongoing matching gift challenge for the cats’ emergency care has almost hit the goal.
The audacious, outrageous, save-the-cats-glorious goal.
You are donating from the depths of your ever-lovin souls.
Frankly, I can barely keep up with thanking you and counting all the gold coins and doing the Dance of Joy.
So as you continue to save our cats’ lives so very, very, very generously, I hope you’ll permit me to pelt you with another day of Gratuitous Cat Photos.
As you can see, these are no ordinary GCPs.
The five-pound, bald-nosed, calico-patched perfection you see here is one Adelaide Rosenberg, Tabby’s Place’s newest resident. Addy came to us this morning from a feral colony, but don’t believe the “feral” label: Addy is an affection-artist of the highest order. She loves us already.
And we? We are a collective puddle of calico-patched goo. Gone are our hearts. Loud are the swells of Puccini. Ti amo, ti amo, tu tu amore…
We didn’t know how much we needed Addy until she arrived and filled us to bursting. Now we know: that nagging gap in our hearts had been her absence.
Addy needs us, too. How, you ask, does she need us? Let me count the ways. Adelaide is:
2) In early renal failure
3) Suffering cataclysmic dental disease
4) Very likely sporting cancer on that tutu-pink nose
Her music found our lyrics just in time.
As it happens, Addy is the epitome of a “Linda Fund cat.” The Linda Fund provides emergency and specialty care for ultra-mega-super-needy felines, and Addy fits that bill. We don’t know exactly what the days and months ahead will hold for Addy, and we’re praying something sub-serious is going on with that dainty nose.
But wherever the next verse leads, we’re here to sing her song.
Thank you, amazing ones, for keeping the music and the mercy going.
*Unless, of course, you are Billy Joel, who will be obsessively checking our website between sets. Dude never misses Felis Catus. Ever.