paper vs. plastic

My peeps came home from the nip store the other day.  Once the bottles of scotch, rum & wine were put away, the bags they came in were given to us.  I don't know about you, but I just love a good bag.

But this all brings up the whole paper versus plastic debate.  Which is better?  Why, paper, of course!  Yeah, yeah...  usually peeps talk about the environment and stuff like that when having this discussion but have you every considered this topic from a cat's point of view?

Paper bags are fun!  You can climb inside and they crinkle and rustle and make all kinds of funny sounds.  If an open bag is lying on its side, you can take a running leap, jump inside the bag and it will scootch right across the floor.  Oh, what fun!  An amusement park in a bag.  I just love it!!!

You can also have naps in paper bags.  You can take a snooze inside the bag or you can flatten it out and it makes a lovely, comfy spot upon which to curl up.  Paper bags are so versatile.  The perfect spot for sweet dreams.

Plastic bags, on the other hand, are very dangerous.  Never give a cat a plastic bag.  There are warning labels right on those plastic bags...  "can cause suffocation," they say.  I repeat, NEVER give a cat a plastic bag.

So there you have it...  the debate of paper vs. plastic.  Paper is best.  My side wins!!!

outsmarted by a peep... the indignity!

Let me tell you about my brother, Rushton.  First of all, he's a marmalade cat.  But you could probably tell that from his picture.  Secondly, he's incredibly smart.  But then, he's a cat, right?  Of course he's smart.

Rushton's true talent is that of opening things.  And what he opens best is the kitchen window.  It's a window with a lever and Rushy knows that if he pulls that lever forward with his paw, the window pushes out.  Once he gets it started, he uses his head to force it the rest of the way.  He's very good at this.  I, too, understand the mechanics of the process however Rushy is bigger and stronger and so better suited to this type of manual labour.  Also, I figure, if he's willing to do it, why should I trouble myself?

Well, the peeps weren't overly pleased about this window opening business.  They've been complaining for ages.  I try to just ignore them but you know peeps can be.  The thing is, Rushton was opening the window in the middle of the night a lot.  The peeps like us all to be in at night where it's safe and warm...  blah, blah, blah...   and Rushy was letting us all out.  Ha, ha, ha, ha....  yeah, still chuckling over here.

Oh, those peeps have tried so hard to stop Rushton.  Peep #1 in particular.  She'd fold up newspapers and wedge them under the lever.  Place big bags of our dry food on top of the lever.  Then she'd pull a kitchen chair over, thinking that would make access more difficult and pile heavy stuff up on top of that.  Ha, ha, ha, ha....   yeah, you guessed it....  every morning she'd find the window open.  That Rushton is one smart dude.

It all came to screeching halt last night.  Once she had us all in the house, a huge wooden plank was placed along the entire length of the window ledge.  A six foot long plank.  The plank was placed directly behind four screws peep #1 must have installed in the window frame when I wasn't watching.  Oh...  that peep has been planning this for quite some time. 

During the night, Rushton went to do his usual thing.  Obviously the plank was in his way.  He hopped up in between it and the window but the lever can no longer be pulled forward.  There's no way to do it, he says.  And I believe him because I can't think of anything either.  Oh....  outsmarted by a peep!  The indignity!  Poor Rushy.

The only thing left to do is to ask Santa for a saw this Christmas.  Or maybe a screwdriver...   Santa, are you listening?

white stuff

I first noticed it looking out the kitchen window.  So I hopped up onto a window ledge in the family room to look out.  It was there, too.  Then I got peep #1 to open the back door where I saw even more of it.  Thinking that just maybe there was a possibility it wouldn't be at the front door, I had my peep check there too but alas, there it was...  white stuff!  White stuff all over my yard in which I like to play...  all over my garden in which I like to dig...  and all over my grass upon which I like to munch.  Humph!


Snow has it's attributes, I suppose.  It kind of looks pretty out there...  everything is all clean and white.   But it won't take long before some dog comes along and pees on it.  Life lesson #1...  NEVER EAT YELLOW SNOW.

Snowflakes are fun to chase.  It's not really cold out today so I might spend an hour or so this afternoon chasin' flakes.  I like to catch them on my nose and stare at them until I'm cross-eyed or they melt or whichever comes first.  FUN!  Eventually though, the snow gets too deep.  I can handle it up to my elbows.  Any higher than that and the walking gets pretty tricky.  That's when I tell my peeps to get out there and do their bit with the snow shovels.  Paths must be made for us cats.

My sister Tess - that's her in the above photo - hates the white stuff.  She has fine, long hair and the snow sticks to it in clumps.  Little goopies of snow hang down from her fur which look kind of weird and she doesn't like that.  Who would?  I've heard her growling at snow many a time.  I heard her growling at it today.  She growled at the front door, at the back door and at the kitchen window.  And those were just the times I heard.  There may have been more.  You've heard of peeps waking up on the wrong side of the bed?  Well, let me tell you that this morning?  ...Tess woke up on the wrong side of the snowline.

a lickin' of the wounds

The other night, my sister Mason came running into the family room, aiming to jump up onto this big old chunk of wood belonging to my peeps...  they call it an 'armoire' or something like that...  don't know why...  it doesn't have arms.  Anywho...  Mason must have misjudged the height of the wooden monolith because the next thing I saw was the poor girl dangling in mid-air before falling back down to earth.  Later, she told me she wasn't hurt but boy, was she ever embarrassed! 

Cats get embarrassed.  Did you know that?  We have very sensitive feelings.  Did you know that?  We're almost always right in absolutely everything we do so on the rare occasion when something goes wrong...  it's very embarrassing.  The usual cat response to this embarrassment is to sit down and wash oneself.  A lickin' of the wounds, so to speak.

Not only are we always right, but we cats are also very smart.  I happened to notice that when Mason wanted up onto the monolith the next day, she thought better of making that nasty jump from the floor.  Instead, she took the circuitous route from the big chair onto the window ledge and then was going to jump up onto the wooden thing from there.  Unfortunately, that route is no longer available.  Peep #1 put a plant there.  Right in the middle of our road.  Of all the nerve!   Some kind of ginger, she says.  Ginger, shminger...  that was our road!!!

But always one to make lemonade out of lemons - which is odd, because cats don't like lemons or any other kind of nasty ol' citrus stuff - Mason decided to make the most of the window ledge.  It's a very good ledge.  I've enjoyed that spot, myself, many a time.  Easy access and good sun on a sunny day.  Now, if only we can get rid of that darned plant.  Humph!

a cacophony of dogs

Who let those dogs out?

My little neighbourhood is filled with dogs...  some small, some large, some medium-sized.  Most of them are small.  The small ones are the whipper snippers...  real yappers.  And the big ones?  Those are the howlers.  And boy do they love to howl!

Have you ever noticed that if one dog begins to howl, every other dog within earshot has to howl as well?  It starts with one...  then there are two...  then three, four and even more.  Before you know it, you have a cacophony of dogs!  It's like they're chorus members in a Broadway musical and they're all lookin' for their own solo.  (Note to the great Andrew Lloyd Webber...  you write a musical called Dogs and I can send you a full cast!)

Cats never behave in this manner.  We simply don't believe in it.  When I meow, I expect someone to be listening to me.  Me...  just me...  the one and only.  What's more, I expect that someone to do something for me.  When I meow, a door opens or food & water appear in my dishes or someone comes along to pick me up and give me cuddles and tickle me behind my ears.  Why would I waste my voice simply to join in, in a chorus with others?  What's that going to get me?  It really doesn't make any sense.  But then, not much that dogs do ever does.

a nissy's work is never done

Do you ever feel that no matter how much you do, it's just never enough?

One of the members of my cat family, Tobias - yeah, that's her in the photo...  cute little thing, huh?  Anyway, she is always wanting me to likka-da-top-a-da-head.  You know, lick the top of her head.  I guess it makes her feel safe and loved and all that jazz.  Also - and I can tell you this from personal experience - it's a very difficult spot for a cat to reach.  Like, on our own heads.  We don't have face cloths, you know.

Well, when this all started, I didn't mind.  You know, within reason...  once or twice a week.  That wasn't too bad.  But now, every single time she sees me, she's wanting me to likka-da-top-a-da-head.  It's really getting to be a bit much.  And it's not just her...  Now, my sisters Constance and Beatrice would like me to do the same thing for them!  Come on girls...  I have my own coat to clean.  All this licking of the tops of heads is going to give me fur balls!!!  And fur balls are serious stuff.

And the worst part is...  when my peeps see me rejecting little Tobias, I hear "oh, that's so sad" or "poor little Tobias."  Poor little Tobias?  Poor little me!  What did I do?  Why is it always my responsibility to always be licking the tops of heads?  Why don't my peeps lick the top of Tobias' head? 

The bottom line is this...  a nissy's work is never done.  Life isn't fair.

the caterwauling... oh the inhumanity of it all!

Hi all!  It's me...  you know...   Nerissa.    I'm back!


The other night, my peep #1 went into the living room and I, of course, felt I should be included in whatever she was up to.  What a mistake!

Peep #1 fancies herself as quite the little singer.  At least, I think that's what she was trying to do.  The noise!  My ears!  Cats have very sensitive ears.  Does my peep not realize this?  Why would she subject me to such an auditory assault?  Oh, the inhumanity of it all!

And why do they call it caterwauling?  Never in my life, have I heard a cat making such horrible sounds.  Not even when a neighbourhood cat comes over looking to pick a fight.  Not even when a peep thinks a bath would be a good idea.  Okay, once my Auntie Primrose made some terrible noises at the doctor's but I only heard about that...  didn't actually hear it for myself...  and I'm not really convinced it was worse than what I heard my peep #1 doing the other night by the piano.  I only have her word for it.  She might be biased.  Wouldn't put it past her.

an introduction to me and my life

Hi!  My name is Nerissa and I'm a cat. 

This is my first post.  Actually, it's the very first time I've ever done anything like this.   But I always knew that I could work well with computers.  There's that whole mouse thing, you know? 

Nerissa's Life will be about me...  my world...  my peeps...  my viewpoint on things.  I'll try to write maybe twice a week or so.  Let you know what my peeps are up to.  One of them gardens and cooks a lot.  Might do a special spot on her activities now and then.  Oh, and I share this house with some other cats.  I'll let you in on their activities, too.  But all that will have to wait for now.  The sun is shining and I see a particularly good looking sunny spot on the little roof outside the kitchen window.  Time for a nap.