RSVP, You Say? Henry is Befuddled

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As many of you know, it is customary here in the Hinterlands to celebrate a kitten’s passage into adulthood. There are many variations, but ours is low-key, cloaked with joy and hope for a new generation of pusses. We break bread. We brake dishes. We raise our libations to toast the honoree’s Cat Mitzvah.

This season, both Marigold and Maddy have opted to swiftly pass tradition and go directly to gifts, refreshments, and a frolic under the ancient fig tree that guards the back door.

Any and all creatures, regardless of either wing or leg, is welcome. All guests, however, must believe in magic. Not the type that the Lovin’ Spoonful sang fifty years ago.

As long as you admit the power and existence of enchantment, fairies, and the world of the far-fetched, you are always welcome.

This season, though, the invitation is doubly extended.

The pusses love their rites of passage, and anticipate scrumptuous refreshments.

Collars are optional.

(Image: by Louis Wain.)

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