Have you ever had an epiphany thanks to a typo?
I do not mean the mischief of AutoCorrect, which turns “I’m going to Target” into “I’m going to Tajikstan,” causing your dad to text back, “does your mother know about this?”
I mean accidentally telling a Tabby’s Place supporter that Sassy is going to “torch their heart.”
In one of the mercies of the modern era, my email server offers a ten-second delay, in which I can “un-send” any message. With two seconds to spare, I grabbed back the email and released a sigh of relief. Disaster averted.
I never intended to tell a lovely person that our calico had plans for emotional arson. I changed it back to, “Sassy is going to touch your heart!” and pressed “send.”
But, maybe I should have left it as it was.
Sassy’s name itself seems like a typo. Olive is a “Sassy.” Uni is a “Sassy.” Gator is a “Sassy,” although in this case that is short for “Senator Sasstacular.”
Sassy is more of a “Sappy.”
Let the reader understand: this is not an insult. This is the opposite of an insult. It takes more courage to be sappy than to sing “Sweet Caroline” in front of 5,000 people. It takes more courage to be sappy than to show up to a sword fight with a string cheese. It takes more courage to be sappy than to sit next to your in-laws on a flight to Tajikstan.
Sassy has the courage to be sappy.
Sassy is so sappy, she dollops herself into a donut bed and waits to see if you will keep looking until you find her.
Sassy is so sappy, you can feel her feelings from three states away.
Sassy is so sappy, she is sometimes sad in public.
Sassy is so sappy, she is the sum total of all the love she ever received.
Sassy is sappy precisely because she has received so much love. This is also why she is sometimes sad.
Sassy’s person never stopped loving her. But by no fault of their own, they could no longer love her in person.
Only sappy cats will admit this, but being loved is the best and scariest thing that can happen to you. Being loved makes you brave. Being loved makes you bigger. Being loved makes you more yourself than you ever could be by yourself.
But, being loved means you are now knitted into a bigger quilt. Being loved embroiders your calico into someone else’s stripes.
Being loved means you have something to lose.
Since Sassy is brave and sappy, she remembers what she lost. We would never want her to forget. She is forever stitched into her person. The love they shared is a golden seam that sometimes feels like a lifeline, and sometimes like a scar.
Sassy is sappy enough to feel it all.
Our job is to remind her what she cannot lose: being loved.
Love may look different in its various frocks, but love will not stop looking at Sassy. If she hides in that giant polyester cruller, love will slow-blink over the brim. If she dares to play, love will wave wand toys until love’s arms are exhausted.
If she takes one thousandth of a step towards love, love will sprint the distance. And if she looks love in the eyes, she will realize that everyone at Tabby’s Place is incurably sappy.
This includes our supporters, such as my compassionate correspondent. Knowing his love for senior cats, I dashed off that note about Sassy. I included a few photos. I encouraged him to visit, with the promise: “She will torch your heart.”
And I really should have sent it, because that is exactly what Sassy will do.
There are two ways to torch something. One is the obvious definition, best reserved for marshmallows and creme brûlée.
But then there is the sappy way: not to burn, but to brighten.
Not to incinerate, but to illuminate.
Yes, Sassy will torch your heart. Sassy will light your candle with her own.
You and Sassy can feel one hundred percent of the feelings together. You can reminisce and make new memories at the same time.
You and Sassy can simply be together, two beautiful beings, until you are both brave enough to be loved.
Come to think of it, Sassy’s name is not a typo after all. There is no greater sass than a sentimental soul.