three sisters

Nope...  I'm not talking 'bout corn, squash and beans.  Not talking 'bout some characters written by a guy flyin' around on the Starship Enterprise, either.  I'm talking 'bout the most important three sisters ever...  my three aunties.

You've heard of them before.  I know you've heard of them because I've blogged about them.  You know...  my Aunties Primrose, Blossom and Snowdrop.  Also known as...  the three sisters.

In fact, it was around this time, last year, when I blogged about their fifteenth birthday.  In that post I wrote all about how they came to Canada - all the way from Venezuela - in their mama's tummy, way back in the last century.  Need a refresher?  Well then, check out this link - birthday number fifteen - and you'll know most of what you need to know 'bout my three aunties.

Well, it's a year later and they're all a year older.  Today is the big day.  Today, my three aunties turned sixteen years old.  Can you believe it?  That's a pretty good age for kitties, I should think.  Sixteen...  WOW!  I'm only nine although I will be ten in a couple of weeks.  Sixteen is way older than almost ten, you know.

I never met the mama of my three aunties.  Mama Alicia went to live in Heaven, before I was born.  I know she was nice 'cause everyone says so.  And I know she was really smart 'cause she got her three babies all the way to Canada.  But...  there might be some questions about her true identity.  I did a little investigating and came up with some surprising facts.

My investigations began when I realised that my aunties were gonna be celebrating their sixteenth birthday on Easter Sunday.  I just thought it was neat.  Purely coincidental, of course.  But then I did some research and I got my paws on some charts and algorithms and all sorts of scientific stuff.  You know...  kitty physics and math and whatnot.  And I started to see patterns in the numbers.  Well...  to be honest, they might have been stars 'cause it was all gettin' a little mind-boggling after a bit but we'll go with patterns, for now.

It turns out that these Easter dates sometimes repeat every eleven years.  Not always.  There's no guarantee.  But sometimes, they do.  So I went back eleven years and just guess what I found.  I found that eleven years ago, today, when my aunties turned five, it was on an Easter Sunday then, too.  Coincidence?  Perhaps.  But then...  perhaps not.

'Cause then I looked back at the year in which they were born.  I was half expecting that to be an Easter Sunday, as well.  It wasn't.  They were born on Easter Monday!  Another coincidence?  Hmmm...

That's when I started inspecting their ears and their tails and whatnot.  Were their ears a little bit longer than an average cat's ears?  Were their tails a little bit shorter?  Could there be some bunny genes in those three aunties of mine?  I've never seen them wearing jeans but you never know what they do, late at night, while I'm fast asleep.

I found that every time I tried to inspect my aunties' ears and tails, my inspections were not overly appreciated.  No, I almost got boxed around the ears at one point.  Hmmm...  boxing....  a bunny trait?  No, I think that's just kangaroos.  Wait a minute...  aren't kangaroos related to bilbies?  Did I not hear talk of some Australians replacin' the Easter Bunny with the Easter Bilby?  And isn't Australia down under?  Down under the equator?  In the southern hemisphere?  In the very same hemisphere in which my three aunties were conceived?  Interesting...

As you can see, I still have more questions than answers.  But I do believe there may be some cause for concern that my three aunties could, in fact, be related to the Easter Bunny.  I think they might have been left by the Easter Bunny.  They might have been left in a basket or something...  an Easter basket...  by the Easter Bunny.  Or perhaps the Easter Bilby.  Rest assured, I will investigate this phenomenon more.  Inquirin' minds are gonna wanna know.

stealth mode

The other day, it snowed.  I couldn't believe it.  It's spring, now, and in the spring...  there shouldn't be any snow!  No, there should be soft breezes and warm sun puddles and daffodils and the like.  There should NOT be snow.  I don't know what's goin' on with this weather thing but I think I'm gonna have to do somethin' about it.

But when it snowed the other day, I decided to make the most of it.  You know, make some lemonade out of those lemons.  I didn't want to play in the snow or anything like that 'cause I was kind of annoyed it was there, in the first place.  I didn't want the snow to feel like it was welcome...  'cause it wasn't.  It wasn't welcome at all.  But I figured there wasn't much I could do to get rid of it although I am workin' on plans for a highly technologically advanced getting-rid-of-unwanted-snow apparatus.  I suspect that my GROUSA invention will make me famous, some day.  Don't tell anyone though.  It's kind of a secret.  Haven't got my patents, yet.

Anywho...  back to makin' the most of the snow.  There was just enough snow on the ground to make some tracks and as luck would have it, some cat had done exactly that.  I figured this was the perfect opportunity for me to hone my tracking skills.  They might very well come in handy now that I'm an official FBI agent.  That's right...  I have been accepted into the Feline Bureau of Investigation.  I have my own badge and everything.

I'm still learning all the ins and outs of the FBI.  I believe I am what is called a "newbie."  But the Feline Bureau of Investigation is better than that Federal one, I should think.  We have no borders.  We're an international organization.  We're completely autonomous and just a little indifferent...  'cause we're cats.  We answer to no man... or woman or child.  'Cause after all, we're cats!  But I digress...

Like I said, I had discovered some tracks.  And I took a good look at those newly discovered tracks in the newly fallen snow and said to myself, "Hmmm...  a cat has been here."  I sniffed the tracks for a moment but didn't smell anything out of place.  Obviously, they were not the tracks of my nemesis, Nosey Neighbour Cat.  I am sure I would have smelled his tracks from a mile away, never mind a mere few inches.  No, these tracks must have been made by a cat with whom I am close.  Someone who has full access to my house and garden and is actually welcome there.  Someone in my immediate fur-family. 

To hone my sleuthing skills, I knew I needed to find out exactly where the tracks led.  That's what tracking is all about, you see.  It's kind of the basic principle.  I decided to do my tracking in stealth mode.

Instead of following alongside the tracks, I decided to walk in them.  That way, there would only ever be one set of tracks, visible to the naked eye.  An outsider might come along but all he or she would see would be the one set of tracks.  They would never know that I had been there, tracking those tracks.  They would never know that I had been there at all.  Like I said, I was in stealth mode.

So, step by step and paw by paw, I tracked those tracks, always stepping inside an already made paw print.  I was so careful.  So very, very careful.  In fact, I was quite amazed at how well I did it.  I was also surprised at how easy it was.  My paws fit perfectly in the paw prints and the spacing of those prints matched my stride exceptionally well.  I immediately deduced that the tracks had not been made by my sister, Tobias, nor my sister Tess.  They are both quite small cats and therefore have a smaller stride than I.  Gosh, I was getting good at this sleuthing work, I surmised.

The tracks took me to the far end of the garage, where they veered left.  I veered left as well, still hot on the trail of the cat who made those tracks.  At the front end of the garage, the tracks veered left again.  I wondered if I would discover whomever I was following when I turned that next corner but no such luck.  He or she was nowhere to be seen.  Just more tracks.  I continued to track the tracks and turned left, once more, at the next corner.  I must admit, I was a little surprised by what happened next.  The tracks led me to exactly where I had begun. 

That's when ol' peepers walked past and she asked, "Nissy, why do you keep walking in circles around the garage?  Are you doing laps or something?"

And that's when I realised just how good I was at this sleuthing business.  I had been tracking myself, all along, and hadn't even known it.  Clearly, this had something to do with my stealth mode capabilities.  Clearly, I was even stealthier than I had known.  Perhaps I was the stealthiest cat ever.  Or...  perhaps...  I had just forgotten that those were my tracks.  I should get myself a little notebook to record such things, I think.  Yup.  I bet investigators use notebooks all the time.  I'll get ol' peepers to buy me one next time she's out shopping.  Or maybe I can order one on-line.

I dreamed a dream

I had the most wonderful dream, yesterday.  Well...  it wasn't so much wonderful as it was interesting.  Well...  to be honest, parts of it were down-right scary.  But it wasn't a nightmare or anything like that 'cause other parts of it were really good.  Excellent, in fact.

Picture it...  Saturday, March 23rd...  Nova Scotia, Canada.... at the desk of Nerissa the Cat.  That would be my desk, by the way.  Anywho...  I was workin' away on my blog, gettin' ready for today's post.  My eyes started to feel heavy and I found myself yawning, more than once.  Not 'cause my post was borin' or anythin'.  It was 'cause I had been up late, with the nip, the night before.  Still celebratin' my being a finalist for the BlogPaws Nose-to-Nose Best Blog Writing Award, you see.  Yup, still celebrating.

Now, usually when I dream, I dream of nip.  Great big fields of nip.  Acres and acres of the stuff.  That, and ruling the world, of course.  But yesterday, as I drifted off to sleep with nothing but a warm laptop as a pillow, I had my pal Katie on my mind.  I was thinking 'bout Katie and her blog, GLOGIRLY.  And 'bout her mom and the great big GLOGIRLY DESIGN GRAND OPENING GIVEAWAY!  And 'bout how much I'd love to win that giveaway.  And that was a lot to think about.  I can assure you of that.  Guess that's why I dreamt what I dreamt.

I woke up and it was a Wednesday.  I knew it was a Wednesday 'cause the peep was gettin' ready to go to caterwaulin' practice.  I could tell 'cause there were screeches emanatin' from the living room.  Practicing, she calls it.  Screeching, I say.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw that sitting on the floor, next to my desk, was the most beautiful pink tote bag.  It was gorgeous, I tell you.  I recognized it, immediately.  It was the tote bag Katie was givin' away as part of her giveaway.  That was when I realized that I must have won the contest.  I wondered why the peep hadn't woken me up to tell me the good news but you know peeps...  they do silly things.  That was also when I realized that I must have been asleep for days and days and days 'cause when I fell asleep, the contest hadn't finished yet.  MOUSES!

Upon the realization that I had won Katie's giveaway - and was now the proud owner of a beautiful, new pink tote bag - I did what any self-respecting cat would do.  I hopped into it.  That's what they make 'em for, you know.  It was a perfect fit, and everything. 

There was something kind of lumpy in it though.  Something that was kind of ruffling my fur.  Hmmm....  now what could that be?  Of course, the pen!  Another reward for winnin' the contest.  A beautiful pink pen.  It was unlike any other pen I owned.  It was going to be the perfect addition to my collection and I made a mental note to hide it under the refrigerator with the rest of my pens, where it would be safe and sound.  I thought I would do that later, after I had a little nap.  After all, sleepin' for days on end can make a cat awfully tired.  I curled up at the bottom of the tote bag, cradling my new pen acquisition and resting my weary head upon the GLOGIRLY bucks gift certificate, also part of the prize.

The next thing I knew, I was rudely awakened as I was plunked down, tote bag and all, on a hard floor, in an unfamiliar place.  I tried to get my head out of the bag, to see where I was, but there was something in my way.  What was it?  Papers of some sort.  I managed to get a peek at some of the writing and horror of all horrors...  it wasn't writing at all.  IT WAS SHEET MUSIC!  Oh my mouses...   I was at caterwauling practice.

You can imagine the things running through my mind.  I dug, frantically, at the bottom of the tote bag, hoping and praying that Katie had included a pair of custom-made GLOGIRLY designed earplugs.  No such luck.  My search came up empty pawed.

Then it began.  The moaning, the groaning, the screeching the wailing...  the practice that comes before the caterwauling practice.  No!  No!!  No!!!  No peep should ever sing a high C!  It's against all laws of nature.  If I've told ol' peepers that once, I've told her a million times.  But does she ever listen to me?  No.  MOUSES!

My one peep is hard enough on the ears but here...   here at caterwauling practice...  there were DOZENS of them.  Oh my ears!  My ears, I tell you!!!

Then, out of nowhere, appeared a little marmalade cat.  I narrowed my eyes, tryin' to get a better look at him.  He looked a lot like my brother Seville, except that he was little.  He was like a little mini Seville.  My heart skipped at beat.  Had the peep's caterwauling vibrations sent me back in time again?  To a time when Seville was merely a kitten?  Was I gonna have to live with a rambunctious marmalade kitten for the next year or two?  A kitten that would get into everything and drive me up the walls?  Then I realized that no, it wasn't Seville at all.  It was Katie's little brother, Waffles Too.  How did he get there?  Had he been in the tote bag all along?  Was he returnable?"

Waffles Too took his two paws and plunked one on each of my ears.  The caterwauling noises subsided.  What a hero!

I knew that if I got through the next two hours, all would be okay.  Caterwauling practice would end and the peep would take me home.  We'd have to find a way to return Katie's brother, of course, but not before all the noises stopped.  He was really good at keeping the caterwaulin' sounds out of my ears.

Then I heard it.  "Nissy...  Nissy...  Wake up!  It's time to turn off the computer.  Computers aren't beds, you know."

I shook my head and stretched a paw.  I glanced down at the floor.  There was no beautiful pink tote bag.  No new pen acquisition.  No GLOGIRLY bucks.  Awww...  it had all been a dream.  It was still Saturday.  MOUSES!

yoo-hoo! MORE BLING!

Yoo-hoo!  YOO-HOO!  Have you heard my big news?  I, Nerissa the cat, am a finalist in the 2013 BlogPaws Nose-to-Nose Awards.  I have to say, this is one of the most exciting things that has ever happened to me.  I've checked back to the BlogPaws site about three times now...  just to make sure my name was still there.  Just to make sure I wasn't dreamin' or something.  It is still there.  Whew!

Believe it or not, even though I'm a finalist for BEST BLOG WRITING, words are failing me now.  I'm practically speechless.  I'm just so happy.  So very, very happy.

I've gotta wait 'til the big BlogPaws conference to find out if I could possibly have won but I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty, bein' a finalist is enough.  I'm thrilled with that.  Of course, if I should happen to win, I would be thrilled with that, too.  But believe you me, bein' a finalist is a great honour in of itself.  Yes, a very great honour indeed.

Thanks so much to you peeps at BlogPaws for offerin' these awards.  And special thanks to anyone and everyone who nominated me.  You've made me just about the happiest kitty in the whole wide blogosphere.  You really, really have.  And thank you judges for findin' Nerissa's Life to be worthy of bein' a finalist.  Oh, and in this case, I'll thank the ol' peep, too.  After all, she does turn on the computer for me every morning.

I'm really excited 'bout the Nose-to-Nose awards, of course, but I'm also excited 'bout another award.

Just the other day, my friend Athena over at Athena, Cat Goddess gave me the Liebster Award.  Now to be honest, I have received this one before.  Twice, in fact.  Actually, it was the very first bloggin' award to ever come my way.  Didn't even know they had bloggin' awards before the Liebster crossed my path.  So it seems oddly appropriate that I pass this along in the same post that I announce my bein' a finalist for the BlogPaws Nose-to-Nose Best Blog Writing Award.

Anywho...  the other two Liebster awards I received had different graphics than this one.  Also, I think I did different stuff when acceptin' them.  So I'm gonna treat this one as if it's a completely different award.  Is that okay with everyone?  Hope so 'cause uh...  uhh...  well...  that's just what I'm gonna do.  It's a very pretty award.  I love the little heart in the center.

So in acceptin' this Liebster award, I must do a few things.  I must answer eleven questions posed by the blogger nominatin' me.  Then I've gotta post eleven random facts 'bout myself.  Then, I nominate eleven blogs who have fewer than two hundred followers.  Now, that less-than-two-hundred follower part might be difficult.  I don't know how many followers I have never mind anyone else.  Google Friend Connect almost never works for me and I have no idea how many cats and peeps follow by e-mail.  Just gotta wing that part, I should think.  Lastly, I need to pose eleven questions to my nominees.  Whew!  That's a lot of stuff.  Better get right to it.

Okay, here are the questions Athena asked me along with my answers.
 1.   What is your favourite colour?
       Silver.  Like the silver in my sterling silver tabby coat.  I really like pink, too.
 2.   What would you rather do, sit indoors in front of a warm fire or lie on a warm beach alone?
       Never been to a beach so...  I'll opt for the hearth of a fireplace.
 3.   What's your favourite music or favourite recording artists?
       We cats have a collection of Solitudes CDs with nature sounds.  Love the ones with birds!
 4.   Any embarrassing moment from your past you would like to share?
       Really?  I've got 'em but would prefer not to share 'em.  Too embarrassing.
 5.   Top three favourite books.
       Murder Past Due by Miranda (my pal Dean) James
       How to Wash a Cat by Rebecca M. Hale
       Cat Trick by Sofie Kelly
 6.   Any famous person you wouldn't mind being trapped in a lift with?
       The Coop!  aka.  The Silver Fox   aka. Anderson Cooper
 7.   The name of your first pet.
       Do catnip mice count?  Never named any of 'em, though.
 8.   Has your pet ever done anything to embarrass you in public? 
       Sometimes my catnip mice split at the seams.  The public needn't know 'bout that.
 9.   One thing you think is wrong with the world.
       All those shelters killin' all those cats and dogs instead of finding 'em homes like shelters are
       supposed to do.
10.  What's your favourite movie involving animals?
       Don't get to the theatre much, bein' a cat and all, but the peeps made movies of my aunties
       when they were little kittens and those are super cute.  Got to see them climbin' the curtains
       and everything!
11.  If you had a time machine, where would you go?
       If?  IF???  Top secret where we went.  Sorry.

Now for eleven random facts 'bout myself.
- I have more stripes than spots.
- I hate anything in a tin with duck or trout.
- I'm somewhat tired of lickin' the top of my sister Tobias'
  head.
- I actually love it when the peep dances with me in her
  arms.
- I almost never sleep on a bed.
- I like to supervise the peep when she gardens.
- I walk about with my tail straight up in the air most of the
  time.
- I now just glare at nosey neighbour cat instead of fizzin' at
   him.
- When I say the peep caterwauls, I am not exaggerating!
- I really enjoy nappin'.
- I miss my brother Desdemona.

And now for my nominees.  Drum roll, please...
- Herman at It's a Wonderpurr Life
- Savvy at Savannah's Paw Tracks
- my pals at TROUT TALKIN TABBIES
- Pasha at Pasha
- Millie at Darling Millie
- Sushi at Sushi's Diary
- Patchy at The Five Cats Chronicles
- Felix & Jasper at Felix and Jasper Blogalot
- Curzon & Jadzia at Us Three Coons
- Pumpkin at Adventures of a Suburban Kitty
- Henry & Perfection at A House with Two Cats

Finally, I need to pose eleven questions, myself.  These are the questions my nominees will answer.
 1.   What is your favourite flower?
 2.   What is the most recent book you read?
 3.   What is your favourite genre?
 4.   What is your favourite season?
 5.   Who is your best friend?
 6.   Would you rather sit under a tree or climb it?
 7.   What is your favourite kind of tree?
 8.   What is your favourite smell?
 9.   What is your favourite television show?
10.  Do you have siblings and if so, how many?
11.  What colour is your fur or hair?

Whew! That was a lot of work and this is a really long post so...  think it might be time for a little nap.  Hmmm....  or maybe a big one. 

But before I take that nap, I just wanna congratulate all the winners of the Liebster Award and all the finalists in the BlogPaws Awards.  I know how happy I am 'bout my makin' it to the finals and I just bet you all are, too.  It's at times like these that we realize just how lucky we are, I think.  Very, very lucky indeed.

adventures with Nissy

Spring had arrived.  It was a whole ten degrees above zero and the sun was shining.  A soft breeze tickled my whiskers as I did my daily inspection of the garden.  The daffodils were sproutin' and the primroses were greenin' up and I could hardly wait till their blooms were bloomin' with bright colours and fillin' the air with sweet scents.  That was Wednesday.  Two days later, it snowed.  MOUSES! 

I awoke Friday morning, ready to head out into the garden but stopped dead in my tracks when I looked out the window.  All I saw was white.  On the ground, in the sky and everywhere in between.  How could this be?  Where was spring?  Had someone chased it away?

I knew I had a mystery on my paws and more importantly, I knew that that mystery needed to be solved.  I called out to peep #1.  "Peepers!  Prepare the teleportation device."

My brother Seville came running.  "Nissy, Nissy...  You promised I could tag along on your next adventure," he reminded me.  Never let it be said that I break my promises.  It was settled, Seville and I would head off in search of spring, together.

The peep was lookin' mighty sheepish as she explained how she couldn't find our teleportation device.  Apparently, it was lost.  Perhaps it had teleported itself off to some remote location, she suggested. 

"That's not how it works!" I cried in frustration.  "The device stays put," I said.  "The teleportee, teleports...  not the teleporter."  The peep shrugged and headed off.  What a peep.  MOUSES!

Seville and I exchanged glances before heading into the kitchen cupboards.  Obviously, we were gonna have to build our own teleportation device.  Bowls, an egg beater, fryin' pans...  hmmm...  what else?  Ice cubes!  I instinctively knew that ice cubes would be necessary for this adventure.  Seville boosted me up so that I could reach the freezer section of the refrigerator.  I got the door open just as a whole whack of stuff came tumbling out.  Clearly, the peep had been negligent with her keepin' of the refrigerator tidy duties.  We rescued the ice cubes and put them in one of the frying pans.  "Now...  let me think 'bout this...  anything else?" I asked.

"How 'bout a garden hose?" asked my brother.

"Really, Seville?  A garden hose?  Don't you think that's kind of silly?  Why would we need a garden hose to build a teleportation device?  But I'll tell you what we could use and that's a ladder.  But just how are a couple of cats gonna haul a big ol' ladder out of the garage.  Hmmm..."  I had my answer before I had finished askin' the question.  Seville and I would build our teleportation device inside the garage.  We hauled the necessary buildin' materials out to our new location.

A little while later, my brother and I looked up at our masterpiece.  Was it gonna work, I wondered.  It didn't look like our old teleportation device.  To be honest, it looked kind of precarious.  It looked a little on the wobbly side.  Of course, it was held together with peanut butter and sticky toffee.  "I'll head up first," I bravely said.  "Seville, you rev up the egg beater."

I began my ascent.  I was almost at the top of the device when I mistakenly put a paw in the frying pan holdin' the ice cubes but the ice cubes were no longer there.  Had they teleported?  Nope.  Turned out they had melted.  I slipped and I skidded and I tried to grab a ladder rung with my tail but that didn't work 'cause my tail lost its grip and I came tumblin' down. 

I bounced off the bottom ladder rung and Seville tried to grab me.  The velocity and power of my bounce was such that he couldn't hold me down.  No, instead he came along for the ride.  Together, we soared across the garage before landing in a potted rose bush.

I struggled to stand up on my paws but something was holding me down.  I felt dizzy and there were stars spinning 'round my head.  SUCCESS!  The teleportation device had worked!

I momentarily saw a host of golden yellow daffodils and warm rays of sunlight and a little man dressed all in green holding a calender in one hand and watering a flower bed with the other.  And the sun shining through the spray of water was creating a beautiful rainbow.  Hmmm...  imagine that.  Maybe we did need that garden hose after all, I thought.  Then everything went dark.

I opened my eyes to find Seville peering down at me.  "You okay, Nissy?  You took quite a tumble there.  Thought we cats were supposed to always land on our paws."

"Under normal circumstances, yes, we do.  But add the science of teleportation into the mix and who knows what will happen," I explained.  I stretched a hind leg and gave the root of my tail a rub.  "Are you okay, Seville?"

"Oh yes.  I landed on top of you and hardly felt a thing.  By the way, you've got a bit of rose bush stuck in your fur."

"Thanks," I muttered.  "The good news is, I saw spring.  I was there.  It's bein' held hostage by leprechauns, I think.  But it looks like they're gonna free it in a few days.  I saw a calendar with March 20th, circled.  That's this Wednesday so we won't have long to wait.  We might need to fill a pot with some gold, though.  Don't know why I think that.  I just do."

My brother and I headed back into the house.  We headed back in with a mission in mind.  We needed to find our old teleportation device.  Our new one appeared to be broken.  MOUSES!

just say no!

Yup.  That's what I said.  I said, "Just say no!"  And I said it just like that.

I realized afterwards that I needn't have said it all.  I needn't have said it, 'cause my peep already had.  But better safe than sorry 'cause...  you know...  peeps can be so silly sometimes.  So very, very silly.  They can do some pretty silly-willy things.  Sometimes without even tryin'.

Lots of peeps out there try to get other peeps to do stuff those other peeps don't really wanna do.  They do this for various reasons.  Some are good reasons and some are bad.  But I'm not talking 'bout the reasons nor am I talking 'bout those peeps doin' the askin'.  No, those aren't the peeps central to today's post.  In today's post, I'm talking 'bout the peeps who are asked to do the stuff.  Asked to do the stuff they don't wanna do.

When asked to do somethin' you don't wanna do, there's a very simple recourse.   You just need to say no.  If you don't wanna do something, don't do it.  It's as simple as that.

Okay, maybe not quite that simple 'cause we've got to bear in mind, there are some things in life we have to do, whether we like it or not.  In these situations, we don't get to say no.  No is not an option.  We just have to do it.  Like...  my brother Seville has to take a pill every day now to help prevent his pee-pee problems.  He doesn't get to say no.  He just has to take the pill.

Sometimes we're asked to do things we don't wanna do but feel obliged to do.  At times like these, one must weigh the pros and cons of the situation.  Does the good of doin' the thing outweigh the bad of doin' it?  Perhaps, you feel, the end result is worth it?  Like...  when my sister Tobias asks me to licka-da-top-o-her-head.  For me, I can assure you, the novelty of all this head lickin' business has worn off.  I mean, I've got enough personal washin' to do of my own.  I really don't need to add to it.  Not to mention the extra fur balls!  But Toby loves it so much that I almost always give in and give her a good five minutes here and there.  An eternity to me but for her, never long enough.  But it does make her happy and hearin' the gigantic purrs emanating from my little sister, makes it all worthwhile.

But you know...  there's a catch to this sort of obligational doin' of stuff thing.  If you have thought about well, and decided to go ahead and do the task after all, 'cause you really felt the end result was worth it, then...  YOU DON'T TO COMPLAIN ABOUT IT!  It was a decision you made and you have to live with that decision and the rest of the world doesn't wanna hear your complaints.  Like...  when my peep #1 worked on a certain committee in a certain club for three years.  She decided she was gonna do that even though I warned her that it would be tonnes and tonnes of work.  She needn't have come complainin' to me when she was bein' run off her feet.  She should have thought about that before she agreed to do it.  Luckily for the both of us, she's not gonna do that anymore.

Now, there's one last situation one may encounter.  What if you're asked to do somethin' you really don't wanna do and quite frankly, really don't care if it ever gets done at all?  Well then, that's when you haul out our trusty little word...   NO!  There's nothin' wrong with sayin' no, especially with this type of thing.  You don't even have to give a reason but if you do, for goodness' sake, give the real reason and not some made up excuse.  It's perfectly acceptable to say, "No, I don't want to."  Believe it or not, not wanting to is a reason.

And by not doin' something you really don't wanna do, you might just be doin' everyone else a big favour.  You don't wanna be one of those peeps who agrees to do EVERYTHING and then ends up doin' absolutely nothin', well.  You know the kind of peep I'm talking 'bout.  I'm sure you've run into a few, here and there.  Some of them seem to not know the word no.  Most of them, I think, just feel too awkward or guilty to use the word no.  But a few of them - and these are the worst ones of all - experience a feeling of self-inflated self-importance by refusing to say the word no.  Like the world is gonna stop spinning if they don't take on that last task.  Excuse me...  I know a little bit about kitty physics and I know that's never gonna happen.  The world stops spinning for no peep.

This last sort of peep is the most annoying and dangerous sort of peep the world has ever faced.  This is the sort of peep who accepts task after task after task and then...  complains 'cause he has too much work to do.  Then he makes up excuses 'cause he can't get it all done.  And usually, those excuses put the blame on everyone else.  Never for a moment does this sort of peep realize that the real reason he can't do all he agreed to do is that he' took on too many tasks in the first place!  This is the kind of peep for whom the tail of reality was invented.  One day, all these oh-I-have-to-do-it-all-'cause-no-one-else-is-capable sort of peeps will meet up with that tail and then we'll all have a quite a show to see.  It's gonna be a good one.  I'm planning on gettin' a front row seat.  Better rest up, in the meantime.

c is for catgregation

That's right...  it's time for a new word and that word is catgregation.

I'm sure you've all heard of the word congregation before.  A collection or assemblage of peeps in a crowd or mass.  But what if those congregatin' peeps aren't peeps?  What if they're cats?  Well then, you've got yourself a catgregation, for sure.

A catgregation should not be confused with a clowder.  A clowder is a group of cats.  For example, I live in a clowder 'cause there are twelve of us cats.  We all live in the same house, play in the same garden and rule the same peeps.  We're a clowder simply because we are a group...  a group of cats.  We can all be doin' different things throughout the house but we're still part of the same group...  or clowder.

In a catgregation however, there is always a purpose to our catgregating.  For instance, when a peep opens a tin of the Fancy Feast, we cats of the clowder tend to catgregrate in the kitchen, in and around the peep in question's feet, forming a catgregation.  We're all there for the single purpose of gettin' our paws on that Fancy Feast.  Some of us come from upstairs while some of us come from the family room and some might even come from outside but we all gather for the same reason and in doin' so, we form a catgregation.

A catgregation can be big or little.  In my house, when we cats catgregate, the catgregation is relatively small.  I mean...  twelve is a lot but it's nothin' compared to what it could be.  It's nothin' compared to the catgregations found at Catgress.

What's that?  You say you've never of Catgress?  Oh my...  I thought everyone knew 'bout Catgress.

Catgress is a catgregation of the most intelligent of cats.  Now, the thing about us cats is that we're all highly intelligent...  'cause we're cats.  That means we're all qualified to attend Catgress.  That's right...  each and every one of us. 

Catgresses are usually held on a local level because most of us don't drive.  Most cats have to come from within walkin' distance.  A Catgress might be held in a park or a large garden.  Perhaps even on a neighbour's back porch.  But when the cats gather to discuss the great mysteries of life, Catgress is in session.

Peeps are often unaware of Catgress.  Some of them might suspect somethin' is up but they're never really able to figure it out.  You'll hear peeps calling their cats off in the distance...  "Smokey...  Willow...  Snookums..."  Those peeps are wonderin' where their cats are.  They've looked high and they've looked low.  They've looked in cupboards and under beds.  They've looked under chairs and on top of cabinets.  They've looked just about everywhere, to no avail.  Well my friends, that's 'cause their cats are catgregants at Catgress.

Typically, Catgress is held at either dawn or dusk.  Your regular run-of-the-mill catgregation may form at any time of day or night. 

Catgresses also tend to be a little louder than catgregations.  This is probably due to the fact that the catgregants forming an ordinary catgregation usually know each other well.  Often they hold the same political beliefs and whatnot.  At Catgress, however, you've got cats comin' from all over the place and let me tell you, some of them have some pretty wacky ideas.

 I once heard of this one catgregant at a Catgress who thought cat grass should be made illegal.  He was one very confused cat.  The ensuing yowls and howls could have been heard for miles and awakened the dead or something.  And they would have, too, except fortuitously, at the very same time as this particular Catgress was in session, there was an opera goin' on across the street.  Let's just say, some things are more ear piercing than a cat fight at Catgress.

So to any peeps readin' this blog post, next time you see a group of cats gatherin', ask yourself this...  is that simply a catgregation or is it Catgress?  And if it is Catgress, you might very well wonder what discussions are on the agenda that night.  You might wonder, indeed.  And you'll be kept wondering 'cause we cats never divulge the secrets of Catgress.  Unless, of course, it makes for a good story.

and the winner is...

Me!  That's right...  I got another award.  Yoo-hoo!  YOO-HOO!!!  I love the bling and, apparently, the bling loves me.  I'm so happy.

I'm sure most of you know my pal Patchy Meow over at the wonderful and amazing blog, The Five Cats Chronicles.  If you don't know her yet, you must visit.  You simply must.  She writes such wonderful stuff.  And she's not just a blogger, either.  Patchy even has a book out.  Can you believe it?  Wow!  It has the perfect title, too...  The Little Book of Cats.  Isn't that fantastic?  Of course it is.

Now, a little while back, Patchy celebrated her one year blogoversary and, in the spirit of the occasion, she created a brand spankin' new award called the Blooming Brilliant Blog award.  Ooh...  it's a pretty one.  I love it.  I absolutely love it!  And I am so very, very proud to say that Patchy passed it along to me.  I was one of the very first recipients.  A veritable honour, for sure.

Now, in acceptin' the Blooming Brilliant Blog award, one must do three things.  Firstly, one must link back to the blog giving the award.  Well, I did that but I'm gonna do it again.  Just click on The Five Cats Chronicles, here or above, and you'll travel as fast as the speed of light right on over to Cyprus, where Patchy lives.

Secondly, one must pass the Blooming Brilliant Blog award along to at least four other blogs.  This was the hard part.  Not 'cause I couldn't come up with four deservin' blogs.  It was hard 'cause I came up with a whole lot more.  I know Patchy said "at least" but my original number was pretty high up there.  So I narrowed the list and narrowed it some more and came up with the following nine.  These are bloggers to whom I haven't passed on awards in ages so it was real treat to do it today.  They're all great blogs and I sure do hope you'll consider takin' a little tour and visitin' each and every one. 

And the winners are...
- Maxwell, Faraday & Allie @ A Tonks Tail
- Tillie & Georgia @ Mickey's Musings
- the ginger darlings @ We Three, Ginger Cats Tales
- Curzon, Jadzia & Nimbus @ Us Three Coons
- the boys @ CatStreetBoyz
- Brian @ Brian's Home
- the whole bunch of eight @ Forty Paws
- Simba @ Simba's Antics
- Selina @ One Eye on the Future

Finally, one must answer the following question...  "If you had a brilliant idea, what would it be?"  Well...  to be honest...  I have brilliant ideas all the time.  I mean...  I'm a cat, right?  And aren't all we cats brilliant?  Yup.  We are.  It's true.  Everyone says so.  I know I do.  So in order to answer this question, once again, I had to start narrowin' things down.  I had to narrow down all my brilliant ideas.  I decided that my most brilliant idea so far has been the peepdroid.  Of course, I'm still in the planning stages of this project. 

A peepdroid is similar to an android but it's a peep.  My peep.  Of course, other cats would want their own peeps.  And that's okay because peepdroids are far more personalized than androids, you see.  A peepdroid does all the stuff your personal peep does that takes time away from you.  For example, changin' the litter boxes is important but it takes time away from the scritches and tummy rubs and whatnot.  You know...  the fun stuff.  A peepdroid can be programed to do litter box maintenance while your own real, live peep rubs your tummy.  See what I mean?  BRILLIANT!  It really is the best idea I've had so far.  I've got calls in to NASA and The Doctor.  Hopin' one of them can help me bring my plans to fruition.  But if any of you cats out there have backgrounds in robotics, please feel free to give me a call.  You'll be more than welcome aboard my train of the peepdroids anytime.  And for your troubles, you'll get a free peepdroid of your very own.  Yoo-hoo!

Now, I'm afraid I wasn't quite on the ball of nip and didn't get this post up as quickly as I should have done.  The consequence of my tardiness was that Felix and Jasper over at Felix and Jasper Blogalot, didn't realize I had already received it and they gave it to me again.  Totally my fault.  Oh, and probably the peep's, too.  Most things can be blamed on the peep, I've found.  In fact, had I had a workin' peepdroid, this confusion would likely have never happened.  Anywho...  I am very grateful to Felix and Jasper for thinkin' of me so I wanted to give a shout out to them.  Another wonderful blog for your visiting tour, to be sure.

And last, but not least, I want to give a shout out to Trixie over at Purr-sonally Speaking.  Trixie gave me the Illuminating Blogger award.  Now, I had already received this one, too, but it used different graphics and so, as I am a true lover of the bling, I thought it might be okay to add it to my uh...  my ummm...  my...  collection.  And if any of you bloggers listed above would like to accept the Illuminating Blogger award as well, please feel free to do so.  All you need do is link back to the cat who gave it to you - and that would be me - and thank them - again, me - and pass it along to at least five other bloggers.

Wait a minute!   Just wait a mousie mousin' mouses minute!!!  I need to mention one more thing.  One very important thing.  I can't believe I almost forgot.  Must have had a little too much nip in my cream this mornin' or somethin'. 

Anywho...  you all know my friend, Savannah, right?  She's the creator and author of the amazing blog, Savannah's Paw Tracks.  Well...  Savvy did an interview of my very own sister, Tobias, and it went up on her blog, yesterday.  You've just gotta check it out.  It's the story of how Toby came to live with us, after a long life on the streets out in the cold country of Canada.  An absolute must read.  Toby is super pleased with the interview.  Says it's the best interview of her ever.  Of course, it's her only interview but nevertheless, Savvy is great at the interviewing so I'm sure it would be the best even if Toby had done a thousand of 'em. Yup.  Savvy is that good.  She's right up there with Oprah, the Coop and, of course, Herman!

What's that peep?  Oh...  you'd like me to give your blog a little plug, too?  Fine.  The peep has a new story up on The Peep's Cheeps.  You can check it out if you like.  Might be worth a click or somethin'.  Might be.  Maybe.  I'm not makin' any promises.

another cat

Last weekend, the peeps went to an orchid show.  Well...  they were gonna go to an orchid show.  They got as far as the parkin' lot.  Well...  they couldn't actually find the parkin' lot.  That was the whole problem.  What really happened is that they got as far as drivin' past the building where the orchid show was bein' held.  I'm told, there was nowhere to park.  You either had to have a permit - which they didn't have 'cause no one in their right mind is gonna buy a permit for a whole year for just one afternoon - or muscles strong enough to pick up one of the cars already parked in the metered parking.  Even if my peeps did have those kind of muscles, I doubt their pickin' up cars would have been appreciated by the owners of those cars.  Peeps say maybe there was a parkin' lot somewhere but there were no signs pointing to it so they never found it.  Oh, there was one parkin' lot where they could have parked but neither of my peeps had taken their hikin' boots with them so that one was out.  Anywho...  bottom line is, they did not go to the orchid show.

Now, I was fully expecting that that ol' peep #1 of mine would come back home with a couple new orchids.  She really liked the one we cats gave her for Valentine's Day so I figured there would be a couple more on the horizon.  Since the show didn't happen, neither did the orchids.  Oh well. 

Instead of orchids, they went shopping for something else.  The peeps brought home...   they brought home...  they bought a...  a cat!

I already live with eleven other cats and let me tell you, the twelve of us are more than enough.  As it is, we've got that nosey neighbour cat visiting us all the time although he hasn't been over in over two weeks.  Hope he's okay and all.  Oh, I'm sure he is.  Just spendin' some time with his own peeps, I suspect.  But the point is, we don't need any more cats!  And that's just what I told my peeps when they arrived home with another one.

I just knew there could be trouble with the peeps travelling to the same town where that Valley WAAG Animal Shelter they love is housed.  I just knew it!  It was a recipe for disaster...  and I'm not talking 'bout a disaster like the time peep #1 was makin' butterscotch and she forgot to turn down the temperature on the stove and the whole house smelled like burnt sugar - which stinks, by the way - for...  for...  for like a year and a half or something like that.  That recipe wasn't nearly as disastrous as a recipe that would place my peeps in an animal shelter filled with kitties needin' homes.  When peep #1 said she had bought a cat and I knew she had been within walkin' distance of the shelter, my legs started quivering.  Yes, all four of them!  All at once!!!  I was like a bowl full of jelly, I was shakin' so much.

Then I thought to myself...  exactly where is this cat?  I don't hear any mewing goin' on.  No purring, either.  I don't even see a carrier or anythin'.  Just what kind of cat is this?

That's when peep #1 presented me with our new cat.  Turns out, he's a statue for the garden.  This isn't nearly so bad as I thought it could be.  This is a cat I can handle.  He doesn't eat my food or drink my water.  He has no interest in treats or cream.  Doesn't play with my toys or occupy too much of my peeps' time, either.  Yes, this is the cat for me!

I must say, he looks a whole lot like my brother, Rushton.  They're both about the same size.  The statue might be a tad bigger but it can't stand up on its hind legs and put its front paws on my peep's waist, like my brother can.  Peep says they weigh 'bout the same, too.  I wouldn't know though 'cause I've never picked Rushy up.  But the peep has, so she would know.  And they both have a mane, just like a lion.  You know...  Rushy's mane is most obvious when he's standin'.  When he's lying, he doesn't look nearly so much like a lion.  Weird, huh? 

Of course, the statue and my brother have their differences, as well.  Rushy is orange whereas this new cat is light stone or grey coloured.  Also, Rushy is made of cat whereas this new one is made of...  ummm....  of uh...  of somethin' else.  That's the biggest difference of all, I should think.  Peep hasn't named him or anything but I'm thinkin' of callin' him Mr. C.  Maybe I'll come up with somethin' better, later on. 

Peep says he'll probably live with the hostas and white bleedin' hearts and honeysuckle in the summer.  That's a good spot, I think.  Plenty of room with those hostas and stuff and, most importantly, if he's in the garden he won't be vying for peep #1's lap or attention or anything.  Yes, that's the most important thing of all.  Absolutely and definitely the most important thing.  Don't you agree?  Rushton does.  I already asked him.