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This post isn’t actually about Pokemon. Although it could be, and maybe it should be, if for no other reason than to rhapsodize on the Pokeworld’s cat-perfect names. (Jigglypuff, anyone?) But no. This post is about Sally.
Some humans convened this week. Other humans will convene next week. On a scale from “the 1%” to “yuuuuuuge”, the cats’ level of caring is smaller than the margin of error.
Before the Perseid meteor showers… Before the release of Pete’s Dragon… Before the beginning of the end of the political season… …the 2016 Linda Fund Matching Challenge at Tabby’s Place will come to an end.
Ask not for whom the Community Room door opens; it opens for thee. Unless thou art Jackie. Or Hildegarde. Or Boots. Or — heaven help us — Olive.
If nobody liked what you did, are you likable? If nobody knows you did it, did it happen?
I had a regular blog post queued up for today, I did. It was stupid and normal and made jokes about Swamp People and vegan cheese and cat flatulence.* But in light of the week our world is having, stupid and normal and flatulent went out the window.
OK, God and humanity and felinity and the universe. You’ve got me convinced: The best things come unbidden.
It’s okay if you don’t understand certain things: Brexit The Seven Kingdoms on Game of Thrones Why your dad slathers butter on pound cake June 2016
Even when we expect an exit, we’re not entirely ready. Not emotionally. Not viscerally. And not literarily.