The next dance
The day Frankie was adopted, I didn’t want to dance. More accurately, I wanted very earnestly to dance, but I did not have the juice. These are the times in which one must be juiced by powers beyond oneself.
acf domain was triggered too early. This is usually an indicator for some code in the plugin or theme running too early. Translations should be loaded at the init action or later. Please see Debugging in WordPress for more information. (This message was added in version 6.7.0.) in /www/wwwtest_192/public/wp-includes/functions.php on line 6121The day Frankie was adopted, I didn’t want to dance. More accurately, I wanted very earnestly to dance, but I did not have the juice. These are the times in which one must be juiced by powers beyond oneself.
Happy First and Last February Second of 2024! Maurice and his confrères welcome you to the new. Cats love new years. They love them so much, they celebrate them on a rolling basis. But cats hate resolutions. They hate them so much, they are here to save us from them, at great personal cost.
So here we stand, at the end and the beginning. Cats know that there are only ever beginnings. Cats know many things beyond our reach. But they are gentle, and permit us to believe in figments — endings, the concept of “age appropriate,” the existence of credible vegan cheese — as long as necessary. Perhaps […]
When you fall over (and it is “when,” not “if”), what do you spill out? Anger? Compassion? Resentment that you are not eating enough mini meatballs? (I will let you guess which two out of those three apply to cats.)
Summon the cymbals and tympanis of autumn. This, kittens, was The Month. I don’t mean the month in which fall fell into place, although that’s grand. I don’t mean the month in which the universe bestowed us with Snoop Loopz cereal, although that’s transcendent. I don’t mean the month in which Tabby’s Place hosted both […]
Every several years, many among us do it. Mostly because we have to. Mostly because of planned obsolescence. We need to upgrade our devices.
To the naked eye, Tabby’s Place appears to be a cat sanctuary. A special cat sanctuary, certainly. One-of-a-kind. Sensational. Smitten with specifically those cats the world forgot. But Tabby’s Place is more than it appears: an outpost of love. A living, purring, peeing parable. A tumbler of timeless truths. And a place where August can […]
Funny thing about loneliness: like government, the cosmos, or a consumer of chicken nuggets, it tends to enlarge itself. Funnier thing about loneliness: it can end when we’re ready.
Sometimes you find yourself heading west on I-76 in Philadelphia, looking forward to a family gathering, which gets canceled when you’re almost there. Curveball.
On this blog, we regularly discuss ways in which we aspire to be more like the cats. They are our swamis, our sherpas, our saints and our scholars. Except when they most decidedly are not.