As some of you may have heard, my sister Mason had a bit of an upset tummy or somethin', a little while back. Well the good news is, she's feelin' a whole lot better now. The bad news is, she's feelin' so well, she's back to her ol' self. MOUSES!
Now I should clarify that. Mason's ol' self is actually a pretty nice ol' self unless, of course, you're a peep.
Actually, I should clarify that further. Mason's ol' self is a pretty nice ol' self unless you're a peep with zero self-control when it comes to touchin' tummies. MOUSES!
What IS it with peeps thinkin' they can go around touchin' our tummies? MOUSES!
You know, I have to admit, I'm a real tummy rub kinda kitty, myself. I love the tummy rubs, for sure. I'll take 'em mornin', noon, and night if I can get 'em. Rain or shine, summer or winter, you wanna rub my tummy? Well be my guest! My tummy is there for the rubbin'.
Although... As much as I love the tummy rubs, it sure would be nice if just once - JUST ONCE - the peeps would ask before... You know... Touchin'.
It's not like I'm askin' for a formal letter of request or anythin'. No, they needn't go to that length. But a polite, "May I rub your tummy, Your Royal Highness?" or somethin' like that, would not go amiss.
Peeps however, have never been known for their politeness. MOUSES!
I guess some peeps think it's better to beg forgiveness later, than to ask for permission, first. MOUSES!
But back to my sister Mason.
Mason is not like me. Mason is not a tummy touchin' kinda gal. No sirree. You touch Mason's tummy, and Mason is gonna touch you right back. Oh yeah. She's gonna touch you right back, BIG TIME, for sure.
And when I say big time, I mean big time as in an epic kinda way. My gosh, Mason's response to tummy touches is so big, she makes Niagara Falls look like a backyard water feature. Scratch that. She makes Niagara Falls look like a backyard water feature in a fairy garden, right behind the wee little house, made just the right size for fairies. MOUSES!
Oh yeah, you touch Mason's tummy and she's gonna be givin' you the bunny kicks with the hind claws, for sure.
That's just how my sister rolls. MOUSES!
But the odd thing is, when Mason wasn't feelin' well last week, she wasn't too concerned with the peeps touchin' her tummy. Oh, I don't think she actually liked it or anythin' like that, but she didn't complain about it too much.
And yes, in case you were wonderin', the peeps were bein' all touchy-feely with Mason when she wasn't well, even though you'd THINK with her feelin' unwell, they'd give her a break with the touchin'. But oh no, not my peeps. My gosh, they were kissin' her, and askin' her if she was okay, and strokin' the back of her head, and basically annoyin' her to no end. You know, basically bein' peeps. MOUSES!
And I know for a fact that on more than one occasion, Peep #1's hand brushed against Mason's tummy, but not once did she put up a fight.
Mason, I mean. Not the peep.
But anyway, let's fast forward to yesterday.
Yesterday, the peep - bein' a peep - went to touch my sister Mason's tummy and Mason gave Peep #1 a good ol' bunny kick, for sure.
Well... Actually... Actually, it was more of an attempted good ol' bunny kick, she gave. Oh, Mason tried alright. She was quick. Quick as a bunny, one might even say. But the peep? The peep was even quicker.
You know, it's quite surprising how quickly the peep can move her hand out of the way, when need be. MOUSES!
So basically, Mason is back to normal. No touchin' of the tummy for her. After all, like she says, one can NEVER BE TOO CAREFUL for one NEVER REALLY KNOWS just where those peeps' hands have been.
I, on the other paw, say BRING IT ON. You wanna rub my tummy? Well my tummy is there for the rubbin', although, as I mentioned earlier, a polite request would not go amiss.
And as for the not knowin' where the peeps' hands have been prior to the tummy rubbin' part, I'm not too concerned about that. After all, I think nothin' of walkin' all over 'em after I've used the litter box so I figure, we're probably even.