Today's previously scheduled post has been rescheduled so as to bring you this important breaking news... my sister Mason was abused to the ninth degree! Yes she was. She really and truly was and by none other than the peeps.
It all began last Wednesday morning. The peeps were up to something. I just knew it. I couldn't pay a whole lot of attention to them though 'cause it was a publishing day for me and I had work to do on my blog. I had almost forgotten my suspicions until I saw peep #2 with a carrier in tow. That's never good news, you know... the carrier being brought downstairs. If it's upstairs, in the hallway, everything is fine. Hunky-dory a-okay kind of fine. In fact, a couple of us cats have even been known to hang out and take naps in the carriers... when they're in the upstairs hallway, that is. But whenever one comes downstairs, it's bad news all 'round.
So upon seeing the carrier, I made myself scarce.
Turns out, I had nothing to worry about. The peeps were after my sisters Mason and Tobias. Toby was nowhere to be found. Nope. Not a trace of her. She had been in the kitchen, I'm told, just prior to the arrival of the carrier but she must have caught wind of it or something 'cause she simply disappeared into thin air. Mason was not so lucky.
So the peeps arrive at the doctors' office and walk through the door, apologising right off the bat for having only one cat with them. They were also, by the way, late. Late by about ten minutes. They had to apologise for that, too. Or did they? Maybe not 'cause... they were actually early. Early by about twenty-three hours and fifty minutes. Could you believe it? Peep #2 had made the appointment and had written the time down on the calendar for the wrong day! The check-ups were scheduled for Thursday and not Wednesday at all. MOUSES!
So my poor sister Mason was sent home, never having seen the doctor. The peeps arrived home and I heard peep #2 say, "Well, I think that warrants a cup of tea." Tea? Tea??? What, all of a sudden it's the peeps who have been through the horrendous ordeal? Excuse me... I think my sister Mason is the one who deserves something especially nice. She's the one squished inside the carrier. If anyone is makin' tea it had better be nip tea, I should think. Nip tea for my sister!
Now, had the fiasco that was Wednesday been the end of it, all would have been well but oh no... Wednesday was only the beginning. The beginning of the abuse, that is. Next day, the whole schemozzle began once more.
Of course, there was no sign of Tobias. Once again, she had managed to do the disappearing act half an hour or so before the appointment. She's small, you know? She gets herself hidden in little corners and whatnot, never to found again. But poor Mason. Once more, she was pushed and shoved and squished - I'm pretty sure she was squished - into the carrier. Peep #1 went out calling for my brother Rushton 'cause she knew he was due up for his check-up very soon, too. Poor Rushy... the silly boy... he came when she called. So, of course, he was squished into carrier number two.
Mason was fuming. Fuming so much she couldn't even make a sound. Nope. Not a single meow or cry was heard all the way to the doctors' office. But I knew what she was thinking, alright. I knew she was mad 'cause she was being put through the going-to-the-doctors ordeal for a second time in as many days. And I knew that she knew darned well whose fault it was. That would be the fault of the second peep!
When Mason and Rushton got to the intended destination, they set their plan into motion. They got those peeps of mine back. They made the peeps look bad. Very, very bad. You see.. some of us cats have a tendency to kick up a bit of a fuss at the doctors' office. Makes the doctors and nurses there feel sorry for the peeps. But Mason and Rushton held it together. They did the mind-bending, never-saw-it-coming, we're-good-as-angels manoeuvre. And 'cause they looked so good and angelic, in comparison, the peeps looked... well... atrocious, really. Atrocious and rotten, I should think.
Rushton hung out on the examination table and was as poised and as regal as only a Rushton knows how. Did you know his middle name is Tapio? Means "King of the Forest." He looks so very regal with that lion-like mane of his. Doctor Teresa was quite impressed, I am told. He's such an easy going guy when he wants to be. He even purred for the doctor and purring is something my brother Rushy rarely does. It was very soft and faint but he made sure the doctor heard it. What would be the point, otherwise?
When it came time for Mason's exam, she got up on the table and pranced. Mason is a real prancer when she gets excited. She prances here and prances there. Back and forth, back and forth.... I'm thinking of signing her up for Santa's team. She could teach that other Prancer a thing or two, I am sure. Oh, and Mason purred too. She purred and purred and purred. Even while getting her vaccinations, she purred. Again, in comparison, the peeps must have looked like scum. No... they probably looked more like whatever one might find lurking underneath a patch of scum.
But the bottom line is this... my poor sister Mason had been through the being-shoved-in-the-carrier ordeal twice in two days. That's so wrong. So very, very wrong. It's abusive! My sister was abused!! Abused to the ninth degree! One degree for every single one of her nine lives!!! And all because the second peep, apparently, doesn't know how to use a calendar. Don't peeps learn that sort of thing in school? MOUSES! I must have a couple of defective peeps, I think. Yup. That's what they are alright.. defective. Only explanation I've got. MOUSES!!!