Tabs never knew his real dad. He grew up a stray on the mean streets of Mill Valley, and when he came to live with us, it was more of an employer-employee relationship, where I served as his gravy chef, deep-tissue kitty masseuse, fur stylist and executive assistant.
But he and El Hub had a very special relationship. It wasn’t really parental, but they had a deep friendship. If Tabs were here, he would wish El Hub a Happy Father’s Day and say thank you.
Tabs and El Hub went on many long walks together on the hill outside our condo, exploring further than Tabs and I did. They got into all kinds of mischief over the years, like the time Tabs cornered a shrew by the old oak tree, or the time Tabs found an unguarded turkey egg in the grass, or the time Tabs got into a fur-flying scuffle with a local Russian Blue over catnip property rights.
After a hard day’s work, they loved hanging out together.
Tabs seemed very grateful for the bond he shared with El Hub, and whenever El Hub called his name, “Tabs!” no matter where either one of them were in the house, Tabs always came running and meowed every step of the way.
Anyone who thinks that being the face of a global fashion brand and kitty modeling empire is easy doesn’t understand what it takes — all the sacrifice and commitment. And it also takes having people and cats you can trust who have your best interest at heart.
El Hub was the closest thing Tabs ever had to a father, and they loved each other deeply.
Not only were they colleagues working to build a feline fashion empire. They were also family members and best friends.
Your friendly neighborhood beauty addict,