Sometimes when Trader Joe’s is out of THE ONE THING I’m craving (I’m talking about you, Lightly Salted Frozen Edamame!), and the baby has been screaming and kicking doors for hours, and I’m feeling anxious because it’s 4 p.m. and I haven’t accomplished anything on my to-do list, and the tears are welling up in my eyes, but I don’t want to cry because I haven’t taken pictures of my eye makeup yet, and I’m spitting curses at my computer, even though I’m the one who accidentally clicked the little red dot thingy that closed Chrome, Tabs will hop up on my desk and head butt my face.
Just like that, I can breathe again…
Like a tabby doctor who knows exactly what his patient needs, he kicks his purr machine into high gear. I take a deep breath, then another, and bury my face in his fur. It’s like he’s telepathically telling me that everything’s gonna be alright. It’s OK, girl. Dr. Tabs will make it better. 🐱
, and if any cat could appreciate a feline who wears pink polka-dot glasses, he could. ❤️
Your friendly neighborhood tabby addict,