Outta etas
Tabby’s Place is blessed in many ways. But as of this afternoon, we are woefully short in a key commodity: cats whose names end with the seventh letter of the Greek alphabet.
The purring prophet
Not every cat has an epic oratorio bearing his name. Then again, not every cat is Elijah.
Shaking up the (anti)social network
Laurel and Hardy used to lament getting into “another fine mess.” The great wordsmith of our time, Ke$ha, sings of being a “filthy hot mess.” And, this week, one of the awesomest AwesomeAdopters since Mrs. TwinkieCupcake has made a major mess of the social network in Suite A.
As(tor) you like it
I was going to begin this post, “I like big cats and I cannot lie.” But even I have more dignity than that. Or, at least, the cats do.
The World Series of cuteness
When is a kitten not just a kitten? When he’s (a) a fur boa, (b) an interlitter peacemaker and (c) all that and five bags of chips. Phillie is no ordinary kitten.