Yesterday, ol' peepers looked at me and asked, "And are you going to drink that milk, Nissy?" I must admit, I was a little confused about the question. Firstly, there was no saucer of milk waiting for me to drink it and secondly, the peep knows I prefer cream over milk. I mean... just what was she gettin' at? MOUSES!
Apparently, I've been milkin' stuff for all its worth. At least, that's what peep #1 says. Personally, I don't see how that's possible. I don't have any cows to milk. No goats, either. Really, I don't think I'm milking, anything.
I think my problems came to a head with my desire to use up a whole half of the family room couch, yesterday. I just didn't feel like sharing. I didn't feel like sharing with my sister Constance and I certainly didn't feel like sharing with any ol' peeps. What I felt like doing was stretching out from the tip of my tail to the tips of my paws and when I do a stretch like that, I take up a lot of room. I'm a pretty long cat, you see, so I need my space.
Besides, the other half of the couch was still available. A peep could have moved my Auntie Blossom and sat down, there. Plus, there was always the floor...
When I didn't want peep #1 to pick me up and move me over to the side a bit, I gave her that look I've been workin' on for the past few weeks. That oh-woe-is-me-pity-the-kitty-with-the-sore-knee look. It's a pretty good look. Quite effective.
At least it was quite effective up until sometime yesterday. Apparently, the peep has come up with some countermeasures and those countermeasures for my oh-woe-is-me-pity-the-kitty-with-the-sore-knee look are a "you gonna drink that milk" coupled with a narrowing of the eyes and a pursing of the lips. Those countermeasures are somewhat effective, themselves. MOUSES!
So I nicely reminded the peep about my leg. You know the one. The one from which my doctor shaved off all the fur! I stretched it out so that she could get a better look. Usually, that tactic works like a charm but this time, no luck. She wasn't fallin' for it.
That was about the time when ol' peepers reminded me what had happened the day before yesterday. I was over by the big ol' oak tree, standing guard. There's a gigantic grey squirrel who hangs out over there and I wanted to tell him he should hang out, elsewhere. Also, nosey neighbour cat walks past that tree when he comes over - uninvited - and I wanted to remind him that he was... well... uninvited, if you know that I mean.
While I was standing guard, the peep was busy watering the roses in the pots. One moment I was at the tree and the next, I was over by the garage chasing Mr. Chipmunk with my brother Rushton. We were trying to corner him over by the corner of the garage when ol' peepers came over and ruined the sporting event by helpin' Mr. Chipmunk get away.
"You were over by that tree," the peep said, pointing to the oak. "How did you get here so quickly?" she asked. I turned tail and walked away. I should have hobbled. I really should have put on a bit more of a limp. My walkin' away gracefully after participating in a squirrel chasin' event likely signified to the peep that my knee was pretty much better. MOUSES!
And I may have possibly added to the ol' milkin' theory later on, when I jumped up onto the chair in my office. That's the chair that sits next to my desk which holds my computer in my office. It's my chair. I need it to write my blog.
Well, at the time, ol' peepers happened to be sittin' on my chair but she wasn't using up the whole thing. She was sort of perched on the edge and there was plenty of room for me to get in between her and the back of it. Plenty of room for me to squeeze my way in there and then, gradually, push her off.
I mean... I needed to work on my blog and so I needed access to my computer. Ol' peepers was only borrowing it for somethin' silly like workin' on her silly book. My blog is far more important than her book. People read my blog.
To make my point, I pointed over to my 2013 Best Blog Writing Nose-to-Nose Award. I wanted to remind the peep just who was the writer in this family. Apparently, my little reminder was unappreciated. Apparently, I've been milkin' that trophy of mine for all it's worth, too. Well, that's accordin' to the peep. Personally, I think she's just jealous. She has never received a trophy for any of her writing. I think that says it all.
Then, the peep had the audacity to remind me that I have still not officially accepted the last few awards given to me by my pals in the blogosphere. I had to admit, she had me there. I have been slackin' in that area but still, she didn't have to remind me.
So I made ol' peepers a little promise. Within the next two weeks or so, I promise to officially accept the awards I have received from my pals and to pass them along. Plus, I'm gonna introduce a brand spankin' new award to celebrate my reaching fifty-thousand hits on my blog. So stay tuned 'cause there's big news on its way, for sure.
And I'm gonna ask the peep to make sure there are saucers of milk and cream for everyone. Milk... cream... whichever they prefer. Don't worry. You won't have to milk the cow, yourselves. I promise you that.