Hey everybody! Sivvers here...
Gosh, this blogging stuff is really hard. Nissy made it look so easy but let me tell you, it's not. It's darned tootin' difficult! Firstly, you have to come up with a topic and then... Then you have to write about it! MOUSES!
So this morning I was pulling my whiskers this way and that and getting my tail all in a dither, wondering what on earth I would write about. I was at a loss. I was beginning to think I had writer's block and wondering if that was anything like the crystals block - which I have had, twice, although nothing in the last couple of years thank goodnees but both times I did have them, I had to be hospitalised so I was hoping against all hope that writer's block was nothing like the crystals block because I really didn't want to go into hospital again. Whatever was blocking me, I was going to have to unblock myself.
Then it came to me. NIP!
What better thing to write about than nip?
An Ode to the Nip...
Nah, I'm not really a poet although I did write that one poem way back when. Remember that? Nissy told you all about it, I believe. I wrote it after my first bout with the crystals.
The more I drink,
the more I pee.
The more I pee,
the easier it be.
That's the key!
Yeah, I wrote that poem way back when for Peep #1. I gave it to her for Valentine's Day, I do believe. Right after I peed on her. Yup, that was the peeing on the peep incident to which I alluded in my last blog post. The peeing on the first peep incident, to be exact.
So anyway, I hemmed and I hawed and then I hawed and I hemmed and then finally, I decided exactly what to do. I decided that I'd leave the sonnets to Shakespeare and instead, write in regular old prose.
So I struck a pose!
Then I remembered the difference between prose and pose and realised that that one little letter 'r' made a world of difference, for sure, and got down to business.
As many of you know, my late brother Nissy was a true connoisseur of the nip. He was a bit of a nip expert, you see. Actually, he was a bit of a niphead, too.
Knowing Nissy's political aspirations, I often wondered why Nissy didn't consider starting up his own political party. The Nip Party... Has a nice ring to it, don't you agree? Of course, peeps might think it's the wrong kind of party or something, I suppose. Guess that's why Nissy didn't want to do that. He was one very wise kitty, for sure.
But just as my family and I will always love my brother Nissy, we will also always love the nip. Rest assured, nip will always be an important topic of conversation at my house and here on this blog, too.
And I actually have some important nip-related news. At Christmas, Peep #1 finally broke down and admitted her lack of nip-growing skills. Total disaster on the nip-growing front. For years she has tried and for years she has failed. Got to give her top grades for consistency even though it's a kind of consistency we can all certainly do without.
So anyway, the peep promised that she would give us a belated Christmas gift of nip plants as soon as the nurseries were open and sure enough, she kept her promise. Last week, she arrived home one day with three lovely catnip plants.
Of course, I immediately checked out their providence as I remembered way back when, when Nissy had been fooled by a big old plant of lemon balm. It did look like nip, I'll grant you that. Looked a lot like nip, for sure. But the smell... The smell! It was so gross. It smelled of lemons! MOUSES!
And then there was the Valerian. You send a peep out for nip and what does she bring home? VALERIAN!
Actually, I have to admit that I quite enjoyed the Valerian root. Nissy wasn't into it. Said it smelled like stinky feet. Guess it all depends upon whose feet you're used to sniffing. MOUSES!
Well like I said, I checked out the plants the peep brought home and found them to indeed be nip. Three beautiful catnip plants.
The peep set them aside on the driveway, waiting to be planted over the weekend. Silly peep.
So the very next morning, I went outside to check on the nip plants for Peep #1 and what did I find? Nothing but stubble! Someone had found those three nip plants and mowed them down to the ground. MOUSES!
No, it wasn't mice. Wasn't slugs or other thugs, either. It was a fur-sib, I think. Of course, my brothers and sisters all denied any knowledge of the incident but I'm pretty sure I could detect a certain nippy freshness to Mason's breath. Mason claimed she had used nip-flavoured toothpaste that morning but I don't think anyone has invented that yet. The Peep should have installed surveillance cameras by those nip plants, for sure.
Well the remnants of the nip plants were indeed planted over the weekend and are now safe and sound in a cage. That's right, they're caged. Big old dog crate with the bottom sawed off is protecting them from becoming snacking material by any marauding cats.
And marauding fur-sibs, too.
You know, Nissy had been saving up his pennies...
Scratch that. Nissy had been saving up his nickels and dimes - on account of the Canadian government getting rid of all the pennies - to invest in nip futures. He said that nip futures were going to be THE NEXT BIG THING. But like I told my sister Mason... There can be no future in nip that has been nipped in the bud and that's a fact, for sure.
So anyway, that's all for today about the nip. I'll be back again on Sunday. Paws crossed there will be no nipping of the nip between now and then. Got to give those plants a chance to grow. MOUSES!