What are words worth? At Tabby’s Place, the math is, necessarily, as woolly as cats. Arguably, though, the answer to the question can be found by taking the cost of the object on which the words are written, multiply that by their impact on the world, then add their continued resonance over time. Extra points for linguistic flair. Demerits for improper prose.
Pardon the fuzzy math, but by these calculations, the words etched on the Rosetta Stone are valuable beyond measure, or, rather, they are invaluable. How do you calculate the worth of such a gift? Which then begs the question, how do you calculate the value of the gift that comes in feline form? Esteeming them in verse is a very good beginning.
Odists and Romantics, do your worst!!
Tabby’s Place recently welcomed a cat whom I desperately wanted (needed?) to name Wordsworth, but who was, in fact, named Sebastian.
This beautiful tuxedo, whose fur sticks out every which way, is of the utmost importance.
Following his rescue from a hopeless situation, Sebastian caught a ride to Tabby’s Place with a marvelous couple we shall call “Sarah,” Board member extraordinaire, and “Brent,” because that’s who they are. They, and Sebastian, turned a deficiently written, palsied Sunday into a heroic tale of epic proportions.
Safely ensconced in our Quarantine area, and ready to take over Tabby’s Place, Sebastian, in the Romantic style of Wordsworth and Coleridge, set directly to writing poetry about humans with opposable thumbs — prime tools for opening cans and scritching kitties. Generally preferring an A-B-B-A rhyme scheme in iambic pentameter, Sebastian, nevertheless, stayed precise, pointed, and poignant.
With a fluttery, gilded quill pen, this fine gentleman wrote, edited, and adjusted the tale of Tabby’s Place in his own image, just as is done by every cat that is welcomed through the doors. What a rewrite!
Sebastian went to a forever home before a single volunteer could begin to quote Shelley, Byron, or Keats…or even the non-Romantic Eliot while plying him with treats. We, the people, shall duly ooooh and aaaaah!
Years hence, a random Thursday will throw us back to the time when we first welcomed the expressive artiste known to only me as Wordsworth, to all of Tabby’s Place as Sebastian, and to his adopters as the very best cat in all of ever (because each and every cat is exactly that). The gift will be renewed. Another factor will be added to the calculations. The sum total will be that, whatever words are worth, Tabby’s Place, the cats therein, and the worldwide community are priceless.
And, of course, apropos of nothing except ABBA, and dance music, and a request from Sebastian…