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, elaborate belt buckles for overweight tabby cats, which, believe me, are not easy to find.
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.
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