The night before last, I was out in the backyard when this strange and unfamiliar smell hit me like a tonne of bricks. A TONNE of bricks, I tell you!
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that my brother Anderson - A.K.A. Mr. Stinkybums - was approaching. Nope, wrong kind of smell for that. Besides, Mr. Stinkybums is Mr. Stinkybums no longer. Andy visited the groomer yesterday and had a bath. MOUSES!
No, what I was smelling was more of a flowery scent. Truth be told, it was kind of pretty but way too strong. It was everywhere. Try as I might, I couldn't escape it. The scent was permeating every inch of the garden. There was nowhere to hide from the smell. Nowhere to hide at all!
Which, by the way, is how the peeps had been feeling about Mr. Stinkybums prior to his having a bath. MOUSES!
I immediately thought to myself, Peep #1 must have put on too much perfume... AGAIN. MOUSES!
"Oh Peepers..." I cried. "You're not supposed to use a whole bottle of the stinky stuff all at once," I informed her. "You're supposed to just dab on a little bit here and a little bit there. Or maybe spray - ONCE - into the air and walk into it." That's when I realised what she must have done. The peep must have sprayed an entire bottle of the stinky stuff all over the entire yard and then walked into it. I'm telling you, sometimes I wonder about my peep.
Of course, Peep #1 denied having used an entire bottle of stinky stuff but my nose was telling me otherwise.
"Then what is that smell I'm smelling?" I demanded of the peep. The answer was not at all what I expected. Apparently, the linden tree was in full bloom and the smell was coming from its flowers. And I wasn't the only one smelling them, either. I'm pretty sure they could smell them down at the other end of the street, too. After all, I was smelling the flowers while in the backyard and the linden tree was in the front. Like I said before, the smell was everywhere.
I headed off into the front yard at a trot. I needed to see for myself what was going on with that blooming tree. MOUSES!
The linden was abuzz with activity. There were bees everywhere. Little honeybees and big fat bumblebees, too. It was interesting listening to them. A real cacophony of sound, for sure.
Oohhh.. That reminds me! On Saturday, the peep discovered a wasps' nest in the garden but I'm saving that story for another blog post because in this post, I have to tell you what happened as I was investigating the linden tree.
There I was, listening to the cacophony of buzzing bees, when I started hearing weird noises. Oofs and oafs and that sort of thing. Moans and groans, too. You know, peep sounds.
Sure enough, there was Peep #1 walking across the lawn with the garden hose trailing behind her. Every now and then, she'd stop and utter an oof or an oaf. There were a few other words uttered, too, however as Nerissa's Life is a family-friendly blog, they're not fit to print. MOUSES!
Now I'll never understand why but according to what I witnessed, at some point during the last few days, a mysterious stranger must have come into our garden and tied the garden hose into knots. I'm assuming that Peep #1 didn't do it. I mean, why would she? But the evidence was right before me. The garden hose was actually tied in knots! Two of them, I do believe.
Seriously, how does that happen? You drag it here and you drag it there but unless you deliberately make a loop and pull one end of the hose through that loop, it shouldn't get into knots. Should it? I don't know for sure but I do know there were knots. Thus, the unpublishable words being uttered by the peep.
Anyway, after untying the hundred feet of knotted hose, the peep eventually made it over to the far end of the garden where she wanted to set up shop. Well, set up the hose, that is.
Now you might be thinking that the knotted hose bit was the highlight of my evening but if you are, you'd be wrong about that. The highlight of the evening was yet to come.
The peep attached the sprinkler to the hose and set it in the middle of the path that leads through her little shade garden. She seemed to be having trouble getting the sprinkler to lie flat. Undeterred, she went ahead and turned it on, anyway. That's when the real fun began.
When the peep returned to inspect her handiwork, she discovered that the sprinkler wasn't sprinkling at all. Instead, it was standing up on its side, forcing jet streams of water down the path and little bits of pine needles were being tossed up into the air as the sprinkler did it's magical balancing act. For a moment there, I thought I was watching something from Harry Potter. MOUSES!
The peep headed on down the garden path to try to sort the sprinkler. She lifted it up and WHOOSH! There was sprinkler water all over the peep. MOUSES!
Then she tried to outsmart the sprinkler which, you would think, would be possible on account of the sprinkler not having a brain but... Well... Apparently not. At least not for my peep.
At one point, there she was, standing in the middle of the path, holding the sprinkler in her paws and moving it about, trying to aim the water away from her. "You going to stand there all night?" I asked the peep. Her answer was, of course, unpublishable. MOUSES!
"Hold on, Peepers! Stay there. I'll be right back!" I cried as I headed inside to grab some soap and shampoo for her. As I was not yet fully convinced one little linden tree could produce that much... smell, I figured Ol' Peepers could take the opportunity of the wayward sprinkler to have a bath.
Returning with a bottle of shampoo, I discovered the peep still standing in the garden and holding the sprinkler but now doing a little dance. I've heard of rain dances before but sprinkler dances? This was something new.
There was water everywhere. She was aiming the sprinkler this way and that way. Pretty much every way. There was water spewing in every direction, including upwards and yes, as what goes up must come down, the peep had clearly been sprinkled upon, too. "Uh, you could just turn the water off, Peepers, and then sort the sprinkler," I suggested but due to her cries of dismay and disbelief that even HBO wouldn't touch with a hundred foot hose, my suggestion went unheard.
I peered down the garden path and saw that where there had once been a smooth path of pine needles, there were now ruts where the sprinkler had etched out long cracks. So that's how the Grand Canyon was formed, I thought to myself. Interesting....
"Oh Peepers... Did they not teach you how to use a garden hose when you went to school? No hose management courses? You did go to school, didn't you? Did you pass? ARE YOU SURE?" My questions went unanswered. Clearly, Peep #1 was ignoring me.
The next thing I knew, the peep started to unloosen the hose from the sprinkler. I closed my eyes. I had this sinking feeling. I couldn't watch. This could not be good.
Then, lo and behold, the commotion stopped.
Peep #1 came RUNNING down the garden path like a bat out of you-know-where. She ran, practically leaping right over me. I saw what she was evading. What she found to be so terrifying. I saw it and turned tail, myself. Not that the peep has a tail to turn, mind you, but... But the sprinkler was now sprinkling and the water was heading MY way!!!
I don't know why the peep even bothered. She was already pretty much soaked, head to foot. I, on the other paw, had no intention of getting wet.
From what I could tell, by loosening the hose from the sprinkler ever-so-slightly, the sprinkler had become cooperative and agreed to lie flat on the ground. Once in this prostrate position, it started sprinkling like all good sprinklers should.
After flicking some sprinkler water from the end of my tail, I picked up the unused bottle of shampoo in my mouth and headed back inside for I am not a littering kind of kitty, if you know what I mean. Kitty litter, yes. Littering kitty, no.
What's that Peepers? I shouldn't be telling tails? I mean, tales? But all that was true, Peepers! I'm not telling tales, at all. What? FINE.
Peep #1 tells me I have to admit that I didn't really bring out a bottle of shampoo for her but... BUT ALL THE REST IS TRUE! Every word about the linden tree and the unmanageable hose and my peep's failure to manage said hose are all, absolutely true. Only part of this post that isn't true is the part about my getting the bottle of shampoo and truth be told, it's kind of a shame as I'm still not convinced Peep #1 didn't put on too much perfume after all. I mean, really. One little tree producing that much scent? IMPOSSIBLE, for sure. MOUSES!