the little match girl

The following is a true story, as related to me by my sister Tobias and the peeps...

My sister Tobias was feral...  born in the wild...  never meeting a human being when young.  Always scared.  Always hungry.  Always so very, very alone.  She lived out on the streets for several years.  Not the busy streets of a city but rather the streets of our country sub-division.  But it doesn't matter what kind of streets they are, they're still cold in the dead of winter.

For almost three years, my peeps fed Tobias outside.  At first, she wouldn't even let them see her.  She was so scared of people.  My peeps had to leave food outside and then scurry away in order for Tobias to approach.  Eventually, Tobias grew to understand that my particular peeps are pretty good as far as peeps go.  She started to trust them.  She still wouldn't let them touch her or anything like that but she'd let peep #1 see her.  And that was a big step for a little feral girl.

One evening...  it was a Wednesday early in January...  my peep was getting ready to go to her caterwauling (uh, sorry...  choral society) practise.  She was just putting on a warm coat - because that particular night was bitterly cold - when she glanced out the front door.  There was Tobias, coming up the path to the veranda.   Of course, the peep put her coat back in the closet and went to prepare some warm food for the little girl. 

When peep #1 opened the door, little Tobias was standing on the doorstep.  She looked up at my peep, plaintively.  How could the night be so very, very cold?  Tobias couldn't understand why the world was causing her to suffer so much.  She would first lift one paw, then another and then another...  knowing that if she left any one paw for too long on the cold cement, it might freeze right to it.  Oh, that night was so, so cold.  Tears welled up in Tobias' eyes.  She fought to hold them back.  Tobias knew that tears are made of water and water freezes in the bitter cold.

At that moment, little Tobias made a decision.  Looking inside the doorway, she saw light and felt warmth.  She knew that inside that house was a better place than outside in the cold.  It was so very, very cold.  Overcoming all the fears that had developed over the years as a feral cat, Tobias came a little closer to the door and the peep.  Then she walked inside.

Well, my peep is good.  That was all it took.  She slammed that door shut so quickly she must have broken a world record.  Tobias was in!

When my peep reminds me of how Tobias became my sister, I often think back to the story she once read to me about The Little Match Girl.  The poor little girl who froze to death while looking through a window into a brightly lit room with people warm and snug while celebrating with food and music.  I think of the poor little match girl and am so thankful that that is not what became of my little Tobias.

Some of you may be wondering why my peep even bothered to read The Little Match Girl to me at all.  Reading stories to cats is silly, right?  Well, keep this in mind...  I'm a cat... and I have a blog...  AND YOU'RE READING IT!!!  Silly, my tail!

the big guy in red did himself proud!

It was great.  One of the best ever.  Yeah, I'm talkin' about Christmas.

The big guy in red did himself proud.  Santa brought us cats such wonderful presents.  They were wrapped so prettily, too.  Lots of sparkling white tissue that crinkles at a paw's slightest touch.  (And, I've found, it's very good for shredding.  Almost a present in of itself.)  Then there were biff bags & mice stuffed with my favourite thing on earth...  NIP!!!  And treats galore!  Oh, what a wonderful day.

My family and I opened our gifts early Christmas morning.  Then we played and played and PLAYED!  Biff bags were slobbered over and the heavenly scent of the nip was inhaled deeply.  Even the tissue paper, in which our presents were wrapped, smelled divine.  After a good hour or two of imbibing, we all got the munchies.  Santa is so smart.  He made sure there were lots of treats and eats for just such an occasion.


The afternoon was spent napping...  and napping is one of my favourite things to do.  There were plenty of chin tickles to go around from the peeps.  Tummy rubs, too.  More of my favourite things.  All in all, a perfect day.

I can't help but think of all the poor kitties who don't have peeps.  Kitties without homes.  Kitties for whom Santa did not come.  I know I'm a cat and that cats tend to think of themselves a lot.  Yeah, we're a little self-centred.  It's hard not to be when you're so perfect.  But at this time of year, when love and joy are in all our hearts, please consider opening your home to a kitty who needs one.  Please make it the most wonderful time of year for him or her, too.  You'll do Santa (and me, Nerissa) proud!

Please note that due to New Year's Day scheduling, my Monday morning post will appear a day early.  My New Year's Day gift to you!

has she forgotten that I'm a cat?

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!

But this brings me to the topic of today's post...  the Christmas tree.  My Christmas tree.  Okay, our Christmas tree.  It's all set up now in the living room.  All nicely decorated too.   But what a hullabaloo it was getting it done!

As you know, my peep grew the tree.  I told you about that in my last post.  It was a good looking tree to start with, but for Christmas, it needed some bling.

First came the strings of lights.  Well, obviously, the operative word here is string.  They may be lights but they come in strings.  Cats like strings.  Doesn't my peep know this?  Of course I'm going to chase them.  She went around and around the tree with the lights.  I followed her around and around the tree, batting at those strings at every opportunity.  It was pretty obvious that this was going to happen.  I don't think the scolding was necessary.  Darn right humiliating, if you ask me.  And all 'cause she couldn't figure out that obviously, I was going to be interested in those strings.  Has she forgotten that I'm a cat?

Then came the fancy glass balls.  Uh...  excuse me?   I mean...  they're balls!  If I'm not supposed to play with them, why are they round?  Again, cats like balls.  Cats like to chase balls.  Cats like batting at balls.  If I give them a good bat and they happen to fall off the tree, who am I to not follow my God-given cat instincts and chase them around the room?  I repeat...  they're BALLS!  They're meant for chasing.

It took a while but finally, we got the tree all decorated.  Looks pretty good, too.  But next year, the peep will have to plan for extra time.  When decorating a Christmas tree, there's definitely playing to be done.  She should plan for it.  Then maybe she wouldn't get quite so uppity in the tail when things take a little longer than expected.  She really needs to keep this in mind.

a Christmas miracle

It happened the other night.  It happens every year around this time.  That's right...  my peep's very own Christmas miracle.

I passed the living room and took a peek inside but there wasn't much to see.  Peep #1 was in there.  She had just finished vacuuming.  Oh, how I hate that noisy monster.  It looked like it had finished its screaming but I wasn't sure I wanted to risk going into the room.  Didn't want to take the chance it might start up again.  From the doorway, I couldn't quite tell if the monster was still plugged in.  Whenever it's plugged in, there's risk involved.  So I passed the room by.

I went and had a little nap - in a different room.  Whenever in doubt, nap.  Always a good motto.  After awakening, I thought I'd see what my peep was up to now.  Was she still playing with the monster?

Well, lo and behold...  there it was...  the peep's annual Christmas miracle!  Before me, right there in my living room, stood a tree.  I have to admit that my first thought was, "just how long did I sleep?"  Then I remembered how this happens every year.  As I said, it's an annual thing.

Every year around this time, when there's a little nip in the air and maybe a little white stuff on the ground, my peep manages to grow a tree in matter of minutes.  I don't know how she does it.  The peep grows trees out in the yard all the time.  But they take forever to grow.  It's a long wait for those trees to be of climbing size.  Believe me, I've sat and watched them more times than I have claws to count.  There's never any visible progress. 

I gazed up at the tree.  The tree my peep grew while I napped.  It was a pretty good looking tree.  Good enough for a quick climb.  DON'T TELL ANYONE!  Yeah, I climbed up it a bit when the peep wasn't watching.  It's a hard tree to climb, though.  Doesn't have proper bark on its trunk.  It's all smooth and metal-like.  Difficult to get a hold on it with your claws.  Nevertheless, it's at times like these that I'm darn proud of my peep.  As I said, I don't know how she does it.  Growing a tree in a matter of minutes...  it has got to be some kind of miracle!

I should just mention that due to Christmas being this Sunday, my regular Monday post will be published a day early.  My Christmas gift to you!

thanks BFF!

It arrived!  My peep #1 has a best friend...  a BFF, whatever that is.  Anyway, the BFF lives very, very far away.  I've never met her.  Only heard of her.  I assume she exists.  Have to take the peep's word on that.

Every year, just before Christmas, the BFF sends a parcel through the mail.  My peep heads off to the post office and picks it up.  Once home, she carefully opens the package.  Inside, there are presents all wrapped up...  just like the ones Santa brings to us cats on Christmas morning.  The peep takes out the presents and sets them aside.  They look really pretty and everything but I don't get too excited about them.  They're for the peep.  And besides, they're not the best part. 

I watch the peep, anxiously.  Yes!  Here it comes...  here comes the really and truly best part...  THE BOX!  Peep #1 places the box down onto the floor in the family room.  Ohhh...  what a wonderful thing is a box.  And especially a box from the BFF.  The BFF sends the best boxes.

I don't know if any of you out there have ever been given a box before but boxes are just great.  They're such cosy little spots in which to curl up.  They're all warm and snugly and I feel so safe & sound in them. 

I've already been in this year's box.  So have my sisters and brothers and aunties and even my dad.  I haven't seen my peeps in the box though.  They don't know what they're missing.  And I'm not about to tell them.  Personally, I think they're too big for the box.  They might break it!  Wouldn't want that.  It's a really, really good box.

mixed feelings... part two

The cage...

I spoke to peep #1 and now know exactly why this heinous contraption is in my garden.  My feelings are mixed.  What to do...  what to do...  Do I find a way around the cage?  Dig in underneath the cage?  Destroy the cage?  I could do it...  I'm smart you know.  Hmmm....

My peep wants to grow Nepeta cataria...  otherwise known as catnip.  Now, this is a good thing.  I like catnip.  Hey, who am I kidding?  I LOVE THE NIP. 

Apparently, in the past, her attempts at growing the nip have failed.  She's a pretty good little gardener but, I guess, not good enough.  I mean, how hard can it be?  Plant some seed, water it, watch it grow...  The peep says that the nip can't grow fast enough to keep up with us cats.  She says, "it grows one inch and you little nipsters eat two!"  Is she blaming us?  Is she blaming the nip?  I'm pretty sure she's trying to blame anyone but herself.

Her little plan is to grow Nepeta cataria inside the cage.  The cage keeps the nip in and us out.  Now you see, this is why I don't like cages.  I don't like anything that keeps me out of where I want to be.  It just isn't right.  If I want a little nibble, why shouldn't I be able to get a little nibble?  I mean, isn't it supposed to be our nip?  The peep says she's growing it for us. 

I'm going to have to think about this for a while.  Maybe sleep on it.  Growing the nip...  good.  Keeping me out of the nip...  bad.  My feelings are well and truly mixed.  Hmmm...

mixed feelings... part one

I was out in my garden this afternoon... inspecting stuff.  I'm sure you know how it is.  Anywho, in the garden, I came across a cage.  A wire cage.  Hmmm.... 

Personally, I'm not a fan of cages.  I don't know many cats who are.  Cats never like to be on the other side of anything and cages are meant to do just that.  They're meant to keep someone on the other side of where that someone would like to be.  Nasty stuff.

I thought to myself, "I've seen this cage before."  It was familiar and yet different all at the same time.  Then I remembered!  It used to be folded up in a closet in my basement.  Folded up, it seemed pretty harmless but now, it was out in the middle of my garden - in my yard - and not folded up at all!  Just what kind of sinister plot could my peeps be hatching this time?

Then my jaw dropped, my tail drooped and my whiskers started atwitchin'.  I had to ask myself, "are my peeps trying to catch cats?  Is this heinous metal contraption a cat catching machine?  No," I told myself, "my peeps are not horrors.  They wouldn't think of doing such a thing."  Also, I happened to notice that the door to the cage was closed so it really couldn't catch a cat or any other kind of critter.  So, why was it there?

I inspected the cage further and discovered the bottom had been removed.  And I remembered seeing my peep #1 with a manzes one day not so long ago.  The manzes had a saw and wire cutters.  I remembered seeing them doing something with what I now believe was this cage...

Just what is my peep up to now?  Dare I ask?

Tune in to my next posting on Thursday for part two of "mixing feelings..."  It'll curl your whiskers!!!

that's my dad!

So, on Sunday, my dad (yeah, that's him in the picture) had a sore paw.  My peeps were all, "oh, poor Jacob.  We've got to take you to the doctor."  But it was Sunday and the doctor's office was closed...  except of course for emergencies but the peeps didn't really think the paw constituted an emergency.  Turned out, my sister Beatrice also had a sore leg.  (More about that in a later post.)  Again, the peeps were all, "oh, poor Beatrice.  We've got to take you to the doctor too."  But it was still Sunday.

First thing Monday morning, peep #2 called the doctor's office.  The call was made in the kitchen while my dad was 'asleep' on the couch in the family room...  within earshot.  Silly peep.

Around two-thirty that afternoon, the peeps went a-lookin' for Beatrice and my dad.  Peep #1 popped Beatrice into her carrier but there was no sign of my dad.  She looked everywhere.  She looked upstairs and downstairs.  In closets and under beds.  She went outside to look.  She looked both high and low.  She looked up on the roof - don't laugh...  we cats have all been up on the roof of our house many a time - and she looked under the deck.  She walked around the house...  TWICE!  I watched her from a window.  That peep looked awfully silly out there calling, "Jacob!  Jacob!!  Jacob!!!"  Of course, my dad did not reply.

Finally, the peep gave it up.  There was nothing left to do but just take Beatrice to the doctor.  The peeps put Bea in the car and drove off.

An hour or two later, the peeps arrived home with my sister.  That's when they spotted my dad, sound asleep on the couch in the family room.  He was curled up next to Tobias, without a care in the world.  What can I say?  That's my dad!

What happened next was totally unexpected.  Peep #1 grabbed my dad, popped him in a carrier and took him to the doctor!  Usually, we get away with this kind of thing.  My sister Constance has avoided the doctor for an entire year!  But my dad had made the mistake of appearing before the doctor's office closed for the day.  There was still time to get him in.  He needs a doctor-avoidance tutorial from Constance.  My poor dad.

it's over... finally!

Remember when I told you about my peep #1 and her singing?  Well, it's over now.  At least for a bit.  Saturday night was the night of the concert so she doesn't have to do any more caterwauling in preparation.  Did I say caterwauling?  I should probably have said practising.  But hey, if the paw fits...

I don't really like it when my peep goes off to her rehearsals or concerts.  I suppose it's better than if she were to do it at home.  My ears can only take so much, you know.  I think I've told you how sensitive they are.  But seriously, I don't really like it when she goes off anywhere.  I like my peeps home...  where I can keep an eye on them...  and where they will be readily available to oblige me by fulfilling any needs I might have at a moment's notice.  You know the sort of thing...  fresh water, food, treats, tummy tickles, behind the ears tickles, etc...   The list goes on and on.

So, a few hours before she had to leave for her public caterwauling, peep #1 made the mistake of sitting on the couch in the family room.  I spotted her there and hopped right up beside her.  I then, proceeded to ingratiate myself upon her lap.  She can't really resist that.  It's always good for a behind the ears tickle.  Then I gave her my best soulful look with my eyes.  The look that says, "you wouldn't think of disturbing me now, would you?"  Then, for the piece de resistance, I slowly closed my eyes, sighed, began to purr loudly (which, let me tell you, sounds a heck of a lot better than her singing) and pretended to fall asleep.  Surely, after all that, my peep would never dream of getting up off the couch and leaving me home alone.

Well, it didn't work.  She got up.  Disturbed me and everything.  What nerve!  I've got to get myself some new peeps.  The thing is, they're so hard to train.  I've sort of broken these two in but...  let's just say there's work to be done.  Anyone out there got a good peep training handbook?