It began like any typical day at my house. Peep #1 started up the coffee pot before dishing out some breakfast for us cats. Then she refilled our water dishes and topped up the bowls of dry food. Grabbing a cup of freshly brewed coffee, she headed into my office to turn on the computer for me, allowing me to work on my blog. I followed behind.
I was busy clickin' the keys with my claws when I heard her. "Who did this?" she cried. "Who got into this?" I continued to work on the computer. I had just started writing 'bout my next adventure and I didn't want to lose focus. If I ignored the peep's questions, perhaps she would stop askin' them. I had work to do and I didn't need a pestering peep slowin' me down.
"Nissy," demanded the first peep, "do you know anything about this?"
I briefly looked up from the keyboard. There was Peep #1, holdin' the bag of nip from our dear nip-growin' friend a couple of communities away. This particular friend grows the best nip in the world. She grows it organically in her special nip-growin' soil and then harvests only the best parts of the nip plants before drying 'em ever so carefully. Every fall this friend gives us cats a bag of her extra-special, super-duper, especially strong nip. "Nope, never saw it before in my life," I replied.
"Never saw that baggy before, Peepers. Now stop pesterin' me woman. I have work to do." I went back to typing, ignoring the noises emanating from Ol' Peepers. I concentrated on the computer screen, afraid to look back at the peep in case she made eye contact with my rather guilty lookin' eyes.
Shortly afterwards, my sister Mason came trottin' into my office. She sat down next to me and whispered in my ear.
MOUSES! According to Mason, a cat-sized cell phone had been found next to the bag of nip in question. She didn't know if there were any pictures of the nipped-up cat chewin' and clawing through the bag on that phone but the possibility existed. Talk around the house was that one of my brothers or sisters had that phone. Mason swore it wasn't her. She was just actin' as a go-between. What would I pay for the phone?
Now, I don't have a lot of money. I have the money in my froggy bank. Don't ask. Long story short, Ol' Peepers doesn't know the difference between a pig and a frog. Apparently, they don't teach that at peep school. A kitty sends their peep out to buy 'em a piggy bank and they come back with a frog. MOUSES! But that is another story for another day.
But the money in my froggy was ear-marked for an investment in nip futures. I couldn't use that. What to do... What to do...
I knew in an instant what must be done. I dashed outside into the cold, icy snow. In the garage, I found what I needed. I knew it was there. I found the little toy car I had discovered buried in the ground while helpin' the peep with her gardening last summer. Every now and then we find stuff buried in the soil. Usually it's just rocks and whatnot but quite often it's some broken glass, sometimes a not-so-broken glass bottle and once in a blue moon, we find a real treasure like this car. The peep had tucked it away on a shelf in the garage but I had watched her puttin' it there so I knew exactly where to look.
Okay... I had a car. I knew from watchin' the news that when you wanna buy back a possibly incriminatin' phone, you offer the cat with the phone a car and some money but like I said, I didn't want to use the money in my froggy bank. Hmmm... COUPONS! Aren't coupons the next best thing to money? They have entire television shows 'bout how peeps use 'em in place of money.
That's when I remembered how that ol' spammy spam-face spammer, Mr. Anonymous Spam had been tryin' to get me to put up a link up on my blog for his site about couponing. I could go to his site and get some... Nope. That's wouldn't work. I deleted that site address before it ever hit the presses. MOUSES!
Then I had it. Sometimes Ol' Peepers cuts out coupons from things and puts 'em up on the shelf in the kitchen. A jump onto the counter and a swipe of the paw later, I had 'em. Coupons for cat treats and a bag of oatmeal. Oatmeal? Whatever...
I immediately put out the word. I told Mason I would buy back the phone left beside the half-chewed through bag of extra-special nip. I had a car and some coupons. I could offer a car and some coupons in exchange for the phone. Who would accept my offer?
Mason left the office to tell the other cats. She never returned. She never again mentioned the phone. I have this nagging feelin' that that phone is gonna come back to haunt me one day. MOUSES! A cat has just gotta be more careful with his phones.