As you may have heard, I'm still under house arrest. Oh yeah... sure... the peeps call it rest and recuperation. I call it like I see it... HOUSE ARREST. The peeps say I have to give my knee a chance to heal, properly. I say, MOUSES! I'm bored. I'm bored as bored can get. Bored as a floor board in an empty boardroom floor. I WANT OUT.
Well, I guess ol' peepers was listening 'cause last week, she took me outside on a harness, twice. Turns out, I don't particulary like bein' on a harness.
I think the peep thought we would go for a little walk in the garden. Check out some flowers and whatnot. Well, she might have thought that but, let me tell you, I thought otherwise.
There wasn't a whole lot of walkin' to be done. At least, not on my part. Instead of goin' for a walk, I just had a little sit in the grass while Peep #1 stood there and watched me... sitting. Okay, I admit it. I did bat at a couple of bugs. Maybe more than just a couple. But those bugs deserved bein' batted. I'm sure of it. They were bugging me, you see...
After the peep watched me sit for a bit, she picked me up and carried me around the garden. I saw some stuff. Some stuff other than those bugs. I saw some flowers. There were tulips and primroses and a daffodil or two. The daffies were fading fast but there were still a few left. I even saw some blossoms on the peach and nectarine trees but, I am told, they are all gone now. Good thing I caught a glimpse when I did. That's more than I can say for the bugs. I didn't catch any of them. Just batted 'em.
But I also saw some other stuff and after seein' that other stuff, I have come to the conclusion that... SHE'S DOIN' IT ALL WRONG!
Never let a peep loose in the garden, unsupervised. It should be a law or something.
At the front of my house, I have a bed of primroses. They're kind of pretty when they bloom in the spring. Pretty enough for me to pose among them and whatnot. Well, all along the edge of that bed of primroses, I have been carefully cultivating some grass. It's just the ordinary kind of grass that one might find in a lawn but this particular grass is fresh and tender and in the perfect location for grazing. With grass for grazing, location is everything! You know what they say... "location, location, location!" Cats were sayin' that about grazing grass long before peeps ever said it about properties, you know. It's a fact.
Location is important 'cause you want your grazing grass in a convenient spot. I don't like to have to walk too far when I feel the need for a nibble or two. If I have to walk all the way to the other side of the yard, I might forget what I'm aiming for by the time I get there. Don't laugh. It happens. It happens a lot. It happens to cats and peeps. Don't believe me? Have you never seen your peep standin' in front of the refrigerator, peerin' inside and wondering what on earth he or she was after? Like I said... it happens.
Accessibility of the location is also extremely important. I chose this particular spot for my grass garden 'cause it was accessible from the driveway. Nothin' worse than havin' to pad through dewy, wet lawn in the morning. It can be cold and... well... obviously, damp. Icky. The driveway, on the other paw, dries up quickly. It dries up far more quickly than the lawn. It's warm, too, when the sun shines on it. The driveway makes for nicely heated seating while munching on ones grass. Very nice and not icky at all.
So, like I said, I have been carefully cultivating my little plot of grass in my perfectly chosen spot. I have been cultivating it for quite some time, now. So you can imagine how shocked I was when the peep carried me over to the primroses and I looked down to see... I looked down to see... I can barely formulate the words. I looked down to see that my grass was GONE!
Peep #1 had been let loose in the garden with the tools of evilness - namely, one garden trowel - and had been allowed to dig up my grass. She says she was weeding. Weeding. Weeding? Those weren't weeds! That was my grass!!!
Now, I know stuff and one of the things I know is that a weed is a plant growing where it's not supposed to grow. Well, that grass was growing exactly where it was supposed to grow. That grass was growing in the perfect spot. It was in the ideal location. The ideal location which I had so carefully chosen for my little grass garden. MOUSES!
The peep is not entirely to blame. My sister, Mason, played a part in this catastrophe, as well. You see... on the day the unthinkable happened, my sister Mason was supposed to be out in the garden, supervising the peep. My sister, Mason, was supposed to be keeping a watchful eye on her. Makin' sure she didn't get into too much trouble out there and whatnot. Makin' sure she didn't dig up my grass!
Now, just what was my sister, Mason, doin' when she was supposed to be supervising? She was posing! She was posing in the daffy down dillies in the back yard. Posing among the daffies in the back while ol' peepers was devastating my grass garden in the front. I have proof of this neglectful behaviour on Mason's part. She was caught in the act. Caught in the act of posing. I have the pictures to prove it. MOUSES!