Rosie

This thug and his low-hanging belly… It certainly complemented his poinsettia collar purrfectly.

The collar is a statement collar, and it takes a certain type of cat to really pull it off because it’s so substantial, and so was Tabs.

We get a little nostalgic around here this time of year because we miss our tabby… 🙁 He was such a presence, and I’m pretty sure he and Santa were tight. 🎅

I took the collar out today because I was thinking about Tabs, and Rosie curiously came by and sniffed it, so I thought, “Hey, you deserve to feel beautiful on your walk today. Let’s put this on you and see what adventures we can have.”

Have a very Rosie Christmas

There was no tree climbing today; however, there was lots of exploring, peaceful contemplation and all around cuteness. I told her not to feel pressured. She didn’t have to pose for the camera, but if she felt like strutting, just go for it.

I wonder sometimes if she can sense Tabs when she wears his old collars. They certainly bring out a different side of her.

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Tabs liked his Christmas trees full and lush…and now that I think about it, they were often shaped like him, with a very round, robust bottom.

He always insisted on being the one to pick out the tree for the house, and I think his list of criteria for acceptable trees included making sure the branches were low enough for him to hide under so that he could launch a sneak attack and swat at your ankles.

It’s been a year and half since Tabs crossed the rainbow bridge, and I’ve held on to his stocking. I put it up again this year, and even though he physically can’t be with me on Christmas, he still gets a sprig of fresh catnip.

Rosie’s been excited about the upcoming holiday too. Cats are funny… She also likes to hide under the tree, but I think it’s more of a relaxing experience for her than it was for Tabs. She’ll stare up at the branches dreamily, rather than vengefully swatting at your legs as you walk by.

I’m surprised she has yet to try climbing the actual tree, since all she wants to do when we go outside is climb trees.

Now that I’ve said that out loud, though, I think I may end up regretting it. How much do you wanna bet that tree is getting tipped over soon?

It’s a very Rosie Christmas

She went outside today wearing a very festive silver collar with matching silver hat. Her style is usually a little bit lower key than Tabs’ was. I think she’s enjoying her time in the limelight, and yes, while we were out there she climbed a tree. 😄

She’s sitting on my lap right now, rubbing her cheeks against my shoulder and looking up at me oh-so sweetly… I think it’s because she wants Temptations treats for Christmas, and this is her way of letting Santa know that she’s been a very good cat this year. 😊

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We put up our Christmas tree today, and every time I string the lights around the tree, I always have to tell the story of how, one year, Tabs tipped the Christmas tree over, and he did it with ninja-like silence, because I was actually in the same room with my back turned to him and didn’t even realize it happened.

One minute I looked over my shoulder, and there he was — bam! — with the Christmas tree tipped over.

He fancied himself as the king of Christmas, and he especially loved a festive, sparkly collar.

Every year, he would gather presents for kittens in need for his foundation, and through his foundation he would donate much-needed Christmas cans of tuna to kittens all over Marin County.

Rosie Girl Christmas

I felt a little nostalgic when I took out his favorite Christmas collar… I asked Rosie if she wanted to try it on, and being the easy-going gal that she is, she said, “Meow-wow [sure, why not?].”

I think the antlers that were originally attached to this collar were auctioned off for charity, which is why Rosie doesn’t have them on.

I think she could feel the spirit of Tabs when she walked around “her property” this morning, because I caught her striking a pose or two when I least expected it.

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There were a few months — a very brief window — when Tabs was just, like, checked out and burnt out from kitty modeling, and he actually packed up all of his things and headed to big sky country in order to pursue cowboy life.

Yes, it’s totally true! I guess I should’ve become suspicious when he had me play Bon Jovi’s acoustic version of Dead or Alive on repeat for three weeks straight. Next thing you know, I’m ordering cowboy boots, 10-gallon hats and elaborate belt buckles (which, believe me, are not easy to find for overweight tabby cats).

Don’t ask me why I was so shocked when he announced one day that we were moving to his ranch in Montana.

To be honest, I actually really loved it there. I liked being off the grid, and I appreciated Tabs’ affinity for horses. Looking at him, you wouldn’t think he was a horse cat. I mean, he was all soft paws and immaculately groomed fur, but he got down and dirty, man! Ranch life suited him well.

There were a few instances when I could have sworn he was communicating with his ponies telepathically. I asked him about it once while we were cooking beans out of a can over a campfire, and he said that he felt a deep camaraderie with the horses. He admired their inability to be tamed.

Obviously, we came back to the Bay Area. His tech companies kept calling, and the fashion people eventually found us, so he had to return to real life, and so did I.

Your friendly neighborhood beauty addict,

Karen

Tabs was quite the professional athlete, but as much as he tried, he just could not get into yoga. He would go, lay down on the mat, get ready to stretch, and promptly fall asleep every single time.

I think the studio he went to eventually just told him to stop coming because his napping was so distracting to all the other students. He was just too sexy, even asleep.

I took him to Bikram yoga once and dropped him off at class, went back to the car and settled in with a good book thinking he’d be in there at least 45 minutes. Less than 5 minutes later he comes sauntering out saying, “Nope, nope, not gonna do it. Too sweaty.” Then he made me drive him to In ‘N Out to get a vanilla milkshake. It was the weirdest thing.

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