It has been brought to my attention that, while I take many pictures of all the Tabby’s Place cats, I take a fully appropriate disproportionate number of pictures of Webster (say, 50 one hundred meeeellion a month). And isn’t that rather unfair?
To quote various British people: bollocks.
The cats who get to come to Tabby’s Place aren’t chosen because they “deserve” it more than other cats. The cats who make their death-dealing diseases retreat for years at a time aren’t any more worthy than the ones whose fight ends early. Adoptees aren’t any more deserving than the felines who live out their days at Tabby’s Place. And when a cat chooses to lavish a particular human bean with “too much” love, that’s not about fairness either.
It’s all grace. All a gift.
So, in honor of the much-photographed survivor of heartbreak and heart disease, that tabby masterpiece who owns an “unfair” proportion of my heart – today we bestow our own Webby awards on cats of extreme grace. With apologies to the “real” Webby awards, here goes.
The Two Faces of Steve Award: The friendliest only friendly member of the Special Needs Suite, a.k.a. Suite Marmalade, takes this one in a walk. While Pikachu, Kimiko, Miyagi, Valencia, Willie and Dobro grow sloooowly to trust the grace and love they’re getting, Steve has been Mr. Friendly for most of his life. So why in heaven’s name has he also been at Tabby’s Place for most of his life? It’s got something to do with his dark side – the side that sprays. But we haven’t seen that side – er, those sprinkles – in quite some time now. Isn’t it time that Steve led the charge out of Suite Marmalade (perhaps heeding the call of someone calling “Steeeeeee-ven“)?
The Sarafina-Sign Award: I’d call it an “omen,” but that brings to mind a wicked child rocking a Moe-from-the-Three-Stooges haircut more than it does a blast of good news. So we’ll just call it a happy foreshadowing: Sarafina’s long lost twin has been adopted in short order. The two sable girls, each outfitted with ultra-jumbo bodies and teeny-weenie heads, never met each other, but the resemblance is undeniable. Unlike Sarafina, quiet Margo was scooped up in her first season at Tabby’s Place. She’s now been home for a week, and Team Margo is utterly smitten. Could the adoption of her doppleganger bode well for Sarafina, the girl who’s waited an inexplicable four years for her forever home?
The Hanz and Franz Award: I’m afraid I’ll have to be vague here, since this adoption isn’t 100% complete yet. But suffice to say that our two strongest cats are on hold to go home together. There was grace enough in the AwesomeAdopters’ choice of the first, a gregarious guy on a special diet with a reputation for being The Hardest Cat At Tabby’s Place To Medicate. But grace abounded all the more when, on the spur of the moment, they decided that “Hanz” should have a housemate…and chose “Franz” (the strongest and most muscular cat, as well as The Second Hardest Cat At Tabby’s Place To Medicate). Feel free to place your guesses as to who these boys may be. I can neither confirm nor deny until they’re out the door and homeward bound, but I will post here once that happy, grace-laden day comes.
The Birth Order Award: They say that each place in the birth order of siblings has its advantages, and tiny Phillie is fixing to have them all. First he was a youngest child – well, or oldest, or middle. We can’t quite say, because he came to us together with sisters Dora and Teka, and they all told conflicting stories of who was oldest. Wherever he fell in that pecking order, he’s an only child now that his sisters are in their forever home. But don’t weep for Phillie: he is rocking the role of “youngest brother” to all the other Community Cats. And, later today, he’ll get to be a sibling all over again when the “fish litter,” Guppy, Minnow and Flounder, clear from quarantine and become his new family. If Phillie’s like other kittens we’ve known, it will take him all of fourteen seconds to accept them as his BFFs. Nothing beats kittengrace. 🙂
The Prozac Poster Girl Award: You and I loved Natalie in her unmedicated days, the days of wine and roses biting and screaming and flying like a frisbee. Our Kentucky girl was a firecracker from her first moments at Tabby’s Place, and her behavioral medication hasn’t stolen her fire. However, it has tempered that urge to nibble terrorize other living beings, and for that we are thankful. Sometimes grace comes in a daily capsule.
And, finally, the coveted award for Best Performance by a Cat in the role of a Cat: …well, do you honestly expect me to be unbiased here? One hundred million pictures are worth one hundred million thousand words. 😉