not the angel you think

He's not, you know.  Nope.  No sirree.  My brother Rushton is definitely not the angel everyone thinks he is and that, my friends, is for sure.  MOUSES!

My peeps think Rushton is the sweetest, kindest and most lovable cat there ever was on the face of this Earth.  Why, they think he can do no wrong.  In fact, I bet they even think the cat can walk on water and stuff.  Yeah, I bet my peeps think Rushton goes around trotting on water like it's a solid surface or something.  I really bet they do.

Well let me tell you some cold, hard facts. Do you know what happens when my brother Rushton walks on water?  You don't?  Well I do. I can tell you exactly what happens when Rushy does that because I've seen it with my own two eyes.  When Rushy walks on water, Rushy gets all wet and stuff because the cat doesn't walk on water at all!  Not at all, I say.  NOT AT ALL!  I've seen Rushton walking right through a puddle and when he comes out on the other side, he has wet paws up to his ankles just the rest of us would have if we were silly enough to walk through the puddle and not around it.  MOUSES!

Of course, if the water happened to be frozen into a thick layer of ice...

Well then, sure.  Then he could walk on the frozen water but the fact is, so could I.  Even the peeps could walk on that!

Well actually, if the peeps were to try, instead of walking on the frozen water they'd be more likely to slip and slide and fall on their tails - I mean, bums - but you get the picture, I am sure.  And boy-oh-boy, watching peeps slip and slide on ice and fall down on their bums is a pretty funny picture to see.

On the other paw, do you know what would be even funnier?  The peeps falling down on their tails would be even funnier because that, my friends, would mean that the peeps had tails and let's face it, peeps just can't pull off the tail look at all.  MOUSES!

But back to the topic at paw.  My brother Rushton is NOT the angel everyone says he is.  Nope, not even close.  Not even far!  Rushy is no angel and that is for sure.  MOUSES!

It's pretty common knowledge around these here parts that my marmalade brothers and I don't always get along.  Spats at my house almost always involve at least two of us and usually, if not always, those two are Rushton and myself.   But what might not be so commonly known is that those marmalade spats are almost always initiated by Rushton, himself.

It's true!  I give you my word.

But whenever there's growling being done, the peeps almost always blame me and yet, I am never the instigator.  Never!  It's always Rushton.  ALWAYS.  MOUSES!

First there are the growls and then the peeps arrive on the scene and the next thing I know is one peep is asking Rushy if he's okay while the other one is blaming me for starting the kerfuffle.  "Oh Rushy," I hear.  "Rushton are you okay?  Is your brother beating you up again?"

For crying out loud.  Never once have I beaten my brother Rushton up.  NEVER ONCE.  I couldn't beat him up even if I tried.  The cat has fur so long and so think, it behaves like the shields on the Starship Enterprise!

Okay, so once I did try but that was a long time ago and there's no need to be bringing it up here. MOUSES!

And it's not just me who feels this way.  I've seen my sister Constance giving Rushy a wide berth as she passes him in the family room.  Oh yeah, when she passes Rushy, she makes sure she is well out of his paws' reach.  But Constance never does that with me.  No, my friends, she does not.  Connie does not fear passing me as she does Rushton.

What's that, Peepers?  What?  FINE.

Okay, there was this one time, not all that long ago, when Constance was sleeping on the big chair in the family room and I hopped up on the back of said chair and reached down with my front paws so that I was kind of holding myself in place with one front paw while I used the other one to reach out and touch Connie, making her all scared and stuff so that she jumped off the chair and ran out of the room but seriously, that wasn't my fault because...

What, Peepers?  Again with the interruptions?  MOUSES!

I have been informed that Connie did not run out of the room but rather hobble which is kind of proving my point.  Constance wasn't scared enough of me to run.  She only hobbled.

Peepers, would you stop bothering me?  I'm trying to write a blog post here.  FINE.

So apparently, Connie didn't hobble because she wasn't all that scared.  Apparently, she hobbled because she was still recovering from that broken leg of hers and hobbling was the best she could do.  MOUSES!

But seriously, it wasn't my fault.  First of all, I was just doing as that ad used to say.  Reaching out and touching someone, you know?  Secondly, when I was doing it - reaching out and touching Connie, I mean - I saw the peeps both watching me and do you know what they were doing?  That's right, they were smiling and whispering and saying, "Oh, look how cute."  THEY WERE THINKING I WAS ADORABLE and do you know something else?  I WAS!  Yup, they were thinking I was adorable and encouraging me to reach out to my sister Connie with a paw, for sure.

Oh Peepers, you're being awfully quiet over there.  What, no interruptions now?  Yeah, typical. Typical peep, for sure.

Thing is, Constance overreacted and it was her overreaction that caused her to hobble at a trot out of the room.  MOUSES!

Now where was I...

Oh yeah, my brother Rushton is not the angel everyone thinks he is.  He's an instigator and a provoker, provoking me to growl at him but the ONLY reason I ever growl is because of his provocations.  And then the peeps arrive and he lays it on so thick the peeps think butter wouldn't melt in his mouth which, by the way, it wouldn't because although Rushy loves the butter he never gets it on account of his (er-hmmm...)  "issues"  with the lactose so if he were to get his paws on some butter he'd swallow it so quickly it would never get a chance to melt although, I suppose, once it got to his tummy it probably would but that wouldn't be in his mouth so... so...  uh...

I appear to have lost my train of thought again.

Bottom line is, Rushy is no angel and that, my friends, is for sure.  MOUSES!