"Can we talk?"
That's what Ol' Peepers asked me yesterday evening. I thought to myself, I guess we can. I know I can. I'm hearin' you talkin' so I assume you can, as well. Don't know why you're suddenly wonderin' if you can no longer speak. You been into the human nip?
And there, my friends, was the crux of the matter... the nip. Not human consumption but rather, cat consumption. MOUSES! I had been caught.
As you know, I celebrated my second blogoversary a couple of weeks ago and as I wanted to celebrate it in style, I had a giveaway. That's right... I gave away a variety of paw-made nip mice. As you might also know, nip mice contain the nip. Kind of makes sense when you think about it. that's why they're called nip mice.
And by the way, about that giveaway... a lovely little kitten named Poof won the prize and those mice are currently winging their way to him via the postal service, as we speak. CONGRATULATIONS POOF! I just know you're gonna love those mice.
How do I know Poof is gonna love 'em? Well, 'cause I kind of got into the nip when the peep wasn't lookin'. I NEVER TOUCHED POOF'S MICE. No, I went straight for the bag containing the main stash of the nip. Can you really blame me? I mean... it was nip! Good, fresh - well, freshly dried, organically grown nip. Mouses that stuff was good.
Anywho... my little foray into the nip is what caused Ol' Peepers to ask, "Can we talk?"
I explained to the peep how I simply couldn't help myself but at the same time, I told her how she needn't worry 'cause obviously, I had had enough restraint and good sense to not go after the toys in the giveaway. But that bag of nip... that bag of nip... that bag of nip was callin' my name. Really, it was. I heard it and everything.
"Nissy," began the peep, "there's nothing wrong with a little nip now and then. All cats deserve to have a little nip. I just want to make sure you don't have a problem with it."
Peepers be jeepers! I don't have any problem with the nip except, maybe, a lack thereof. Although truth be told, the peep is pretty good at keepin' me well supplied.
I fully admit that I like my nip: fresh, dried, in toys, straight up. You show me the nip and I'll show you one happy kitty. But I've never been a mean nipster. I've never lashed out at anyone after indulgin' in the stuff. An addiction is not an excuse to be mean, I told the peep. Not that I am addicted or anythin'. But if I were, I still wouldn't go around bein' nasty or mean. In fact, if anything, I'm even nicer after a little indulgence. Probably because basically, I'm a very nice cat. No nip is gonna turn me mean. You've gotta be mean to start with for the nip to magnify the meanness. The nip has gotta have somethin' to magnify.
Oh sure, I've been known to get the munchies after nippin' but honestly, I think that's a perfectly normal response. I've never done anything rash after enjoyin' the nip. I've never fired anyone 'cause of my nippin' and believe you me, I have reason to fire some peeps. I, Nerissa the Cat, have the worst IT support in the history of the Blogosphere. The peep is... the peep is... there are no words for what the peep is when it comes to IT support other than her bein' a technologically impaired duffer and that's puttin' it rather mildly. And I just wanna mention that sayin' that is not mean. It's simply fact. I believe the peep would even agree with me on that. Clearly, nip has never made me mean or anything of the sort 'cause I haven't yet gotten rid of the peep.
That was when the peep brought up the subject of the tins. MOUSES! I had been caught again.
She wanted to know why some of the other cats were upset with me about the tins of the fanciest of the feasts. And it wasn't just my brothers and sisters who were upset. It was that nosey neighbour cat, too. Apparently, he had been tellin' on me. Apparently, word was out that it wasn't always him gettin' onto the kitchen counter and knockin' stuff down.
Well my friends, at that point I had to fess up. I explained to the peep that I had, at times, gone into a tin or two of somethin' super tasty that was left open on the counter but I had never actively blamed nosey neighbour cat or any other cat, for that matter. I simply hadn't admitted to my actions when others had been accused. I also pointed out that I was not the only one doin' such things. Others had been involved, as well.
The peep told me I had to apologise to nosey neighbour cat along with any of my brothers and sisters to whom I might owe an apology or two. APOLOGISE! Oh... mouses.
That's when I had to explain to Ol' Peepers how some of the other cats weren't acceptin' my apologies any more. Apparently, after the first couple dozen apologies, subsequent apologies start comin' across as insincere. Yup, it's true. You apologise and apologise and apologise for allowin' a little misdirected blame to continue and before you know it, other cats stop listenin'. They say they've heard it all before and aren't interested in hearin' it again.
I'm gonna have to change my tactics. Mix it up a little. Hmmm... maybe I could sue. Sue 'em for tellin' on me. It's a possibility. Can you sue someone for tellin' the truth about you? Gonna have to think about that one. I'm thinkin' not but you never know. Stranger things have happened.