What’s that old chestnut? “Sometimes things have to fall apart so better things can fall together.”
Or, in Sable-speak: “Sometimes your tail has to get degloved so your people can get devoted.”
I’m sorry to do that to you — throw that word, degloved, in there without any warning.
That’s one of those words that provokes an immediate, visceral reaction. Even if you’ve never heard it (and, for your sake, I hope you haven’t), you can immediately picture it, and then you can’t un-picture it, and then you’re shrieking eeeeuuuuw from the depths of your soul and the neighbors are scared.
But, yeah; that’s what happened to Sable.
That worst of all words wasn’t spoken when we got the call about Sable. The barest details were all the caller blared: Small cat. Big ouch. Help now. Please please.
And so Sable’s rescuers screamed their way down Route 202, and the tiny cat with the tremendous hurt arrived. Scarcely more than a sliver of grey, teenage Sable had gotten herself stuck somewhere. She then got herself out…most of herself, anyway.
Which brings us to our next cliche: Sometimes, to move forward, you have to leave the past behind. Or, in Sable-speak: Sometimes, to move forward, you have to leave all the skin on your tail behind.
I’m sorry to do that again, throw another shockball in there. But yes, that’s what happened, and yes, that’s the aforementioned injury that shall not be reiterated. (I do have some mercy.)
Sable was remarkably calm and resolutely affectionate despite her ordeal. You or I would surely be screaming bloody murder if that happened to us (which would require you and I to have tails, but that’s another matter). Sable, though, was serene sweetness, a mountain of mirth even with her pebble of hope. Heck, she’d heard that a mustard seed would be enough, so a pebble was a fortune.
And, once that tail was history, Sable’s pebble would shine. With a pallet of pain meds on board, Sable settled into Tabby’s Place as we scheduled her tail removal.
At this point, I must point out that Sable was already, unquestionably, The Single Cutest Cat Created. Dove-grey and dove-small, infinite eyes and infinite wonder, she had all the marks of a lifelong kitten. You know the kind: ageless giddiness, a tiny little face that refuses to age, the sort of perma-astonishment that can’t help but make you love life more, too. (We’ve seen this before: Rose, Hootz, Martin Short.)
And then her terminal tail met the guillotine…and Sable somehow got cuter.
As you can see, Sable’s tail wasn’t exactly amputated…more like abridged. And with that two-inch tidbit that thumps the air with excitement when she plays, Sable is set to take over the world.
Consider this, kittens: if a creature this cute appeared on your doorstep requesting your contribution or your vote or your last box of Captain Crunch, would you be capable of saying no? On the off chance that you would, all she’d have to do would be turn around and thump-thump-thump the air with her magic stump of joy.
Which only means one thing: Sable Rosenberg 2016: Tiny Tail, Humongous Hopes.
Can anyone deny that this is an outstanding idea? I didn’t think so. (Donald and Hillary have already called Sable with their private concessions. Official announcements forthcoming.)
And on the outrageously off chance that anyone doubts Sable’s fitness for office, remember: Sable may have first found kindness at Tabby’s Place. She may have never been kissed or cuddled or exuberantly played with before Tabby’s Place.*
But Sable did not wait until Tabby’s Place to start celebrating life. This little legend was already all in when she entered our doors. Sometime, somehow, she’d decided that wonder would be her default, love would be her motor, and everything would work out just fine. Surely, the road would roll out before her…even if things and tails had to fall apart along the way.
Sable, we’re with you. You’ve got the grit, the grace and the generosity of spirit to do us proud. Your move, Madame President. #TinyTail2016
*Speaking of which, thanks to Tabby’s Place’s awesome Montana visitor-donor-awesome-friend David for the action shots of Sable, and the phenomenal toys she’s enjoying in them.
Photo credits from the top: Heather, Rob, David, Rob, David, Heather, David. Heather, Rob and David have already been selected for Sable’s cabinet.
Lil Stubbs! She and fellow perma-kitten Rose should form their own club. The Stub Club. Cutie pies only, please.
Sable, no one will know what happened to lead you to Tabby’s Place, but we are so glad you are here. We love you. What a happy, playful kitty you are. We kiss the little white frosting on your cute nose!