all aboard!

ALL ABOARD!

Chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga, chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga...

Attention all passengers:  The Crazy Train is arriving at gate three, and will be ready for departure in twenty-five minutes.  Please have your tickets ready for boarding.

Chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga, chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga...

Hey Peepers!  Your train is about to leave the station!!!

You had best boogie on over to gate three, right away.

Chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga, chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga...

And don't worry 'bout your ticket!  They sent you a lifelong pass in the mail.

MOUSES!

Hehehehehe..

But seriously folks, for my first peep, that train has ALREADY left the station.  That ship has already sailed.  That...

Well you get the picture, I am sure.  MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, I was tryin' to figure out what I should write about for today's blog post, and I said to myself, it has been a while since I mocked Peep #1 silly.

What's that, Peepers?  REALLY?

Did I mock you that recently?

Hmmm...

Well recently or not, everyone loves a good mockin' of my peep.

THEY DO TOO.  MOUSES!

I did a survey only the other day.

Okay, FINE.  I didn't actually do a survey.  That may have been a fact of an alternative nature. MOUSES!

But seriously Peepers, my readership does enjoy when I mock you.  I don't have to take surveys or anythin' like that.  I just know.  I just know on account of my bein' able to hear 'em laughin', from miles and miles away.  MOUSES!

So let's get down to business, shall we?

Mockin' point number one...

What's that, Peepers?  REALLY?

THERE IS SO.  MOUSES!

Peepers, mockin' points are so real things, and that is a REAL fact, for sure.

Yes, yes, I know.  Peeps usually talk about talkin' points, but just 'cause they're usually talkin' about talkin' points, doesn't mean mockin' points aren't real, too.  The popularity of talkin' points does not, in any way, diminish the existence of mockin' points.  Not one bit!

In fact, statistics show...

What's that, Peepers?  REALLY?

THEY DO SO.  MOUSES!

Well I don't quite KNOW where to find those statistics.

But my not bein' able to find 'em, doesn't mean they don't exist!

It just means they're good at bein' hidden, is all.  MOUSES!

This cat's confidential sources claim...

What's that, Peepers?  REALLY?

THEY DO NOT.  MOUSES!

Look Peepers, peeps have been claiming claims made by confidential sources for years upon years, and not once has anyone every doubted their credibility.

They have?

Awww....  MOUSES!

But those weren't my confidential sources.  MY confidential sources are real.

So anyway, my first mockin' point is...

What's that, Peepers?  REALLY?

IT IS NOT.  MOUSES!

Actual proof of your mockable activities and all 'round general mockability, is not necessary at all.  I don't need pictures.  I DON'T NEED FACTS.  I DON'T NEED...

What?  WHAT?  What is that you're blathering on about now?

Oh.

OH.

Hmmm...

Well....

Well folks, it looks like I won't be mockin' Peep #1 in this blog post after all.  It looks like I'll be mockin' her in a blog post, sometime in the future.  Uh... yeah.  A post to be written after I uh... You know...  After I dot all my 'i's and cross all my 't's, in order to avoid bein' sued.

But in the meantime...


HEY PEEPERS!  THE CRAZY TRAIN IS READY TO LEAVE!!!

Chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga, chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga...

call the cops!

Somebody, quick! Somebody call the cops!  MOUSES!

Oh.  My.  Mouses.

MOUSES!

There's a major crime wave goin' on and that, my friends, is for sure. MOUSES!

With spring on the horizon, and temperatures risin', criminals are out and about in full force.

All the evidence is there. Criminal activity is on the rise.  My once peaceful neighbourhood has become a hotbed for miscreants and felons.  MOUSES!

Why just yesterday mornin', Peep #1 let me out the door for my mornin' patrol, and what did I find?

I found...

I found...

Oh my mouses, it's too awful to describe.

I found, a garbage bag, torn open wide.

It's true, my friends.  During the night, masked bandits were lurking about in my yard, rippin' apart garbage, lookin' for food.

Peep #1 says it was raccoons.

I say, RACCOONS WEAR MASKS.  MOUSES!

There had been no sightings of the marauding gang of masked bandit raccoons since last fall. Clearly, they have returned.  MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', one marauding gang of masked bandits does not a crime wave make, and you know somethin'?  You'd be right about that if...

If...

If there weren't other criminal activity goin' on in the area, too.

Both yesterday and today, I spotted several robins in the my yard.

What is criminal about robins, you ask?

'CAUSE THEY'RE NOT ROBINS AT ALL!

That's right, my friends.  Those red-breasted robins, hoppin' hither and thither, are NOT robins but rather, North American thrushes impersonating robins, for sure.

You've heard of IDENTITY THEFT?  MOUSES!

And then there's the vandalism.

Oh my mouses, it's bad.

Yesterday, I spotted two woodpeckers, peckin' away at the ol' oak tree in the front of my yard.  My friends, they left holes behind!  HOLES!  That's vandalism, for sure.

Which reminds me 'bout the squirrels.

Those squirrels have been racin' back and forth, chasin' each other across the driveway and street, never once checkin' for oncoming cars.  And they never cross at the corner or look for a crossin' guard.  No sirree.  And their constant jaywalking is DRIVIN' ME CRAZY!

And speakin' of jays...

The blue jays have been brawling so much, I half thought the finger-snappin', toe-tappin' Jets and Sharks had invaded my yard.

Thankfully, we have no actual sharks.  MOUSES!

But what we do have is noise.

Oh my mouses those crows can be loud.   MOUSES!

In the last few days, the Crow Show has amped up the noise level by several decibels.  I tried turnin' down the volume on the television but apparently our remote is faulty, 'cause it doesn't work on those crows.

MOUSES!

And then there are the sweet little chickadees...

NOT!!!

It was previously owned by a sweet little lady who only drove it to church on Sundays and back.

Ever heard that line?

Yeah, when really the church must have been an empty parkin' lot and the little old lady was the drag racing queen.

SWEET MY TAIL.

Those chickadees are constantly flitting this way and that, running obstacle courses through the ladybug hedge.  I tried puttin' up signs for no loitering, no skateboarding and no stunt bikin' but alas, it was to no avail.

And they're constantly singing, chickadee-dee-dee here and chickadee-dee-dee there and they're even chickadee-dee-deeing in mid air!

I'm tellin' you, those chickadees are disturbing the peace.

MOUSES!

So as you can see, my garden has become a gatherin' place for unsavoury villains and delinquent offenders, committing illicit, felonious, fraudulent acts.

If I didn't know better, I'd think I was bein' filmed for Reality TV.

MOUSES!

I fits, I sits

What the mouses?

MASON, WHAT ARE YOU DOIN'?

Uh, yeah.  That's not how that sayin' goes.

What's that?  No...  No, the sayin' is, I fits, I sits.  I should know, on account of my havin' said it many a time but...

But what?  But you say that that's what you're doin'.

Uh, no.  That's not what you're doin' at all. MOUSES!

I suppose I can agree with you on that. You ARE sittin'.  But as far as the fittin' part goes...

Mason, Mason, Mason...  *sighs*

Well for starters, that's a box.

Pardon me?  You say you know it's a box.

Okay...

Well tell me this then, Mason.  Do you know what to do with said box?

Scratch that.  I know perfectly well that you know what to do with boxes.  I've seen you in many a box before but...

Well...

DO YOU KNOW THAT THAT BOX IS A BOX?

And perhaps more to the point, DO YOU KNOW THAT IT ISN'T A HAT?  MOUSES!

Mason, in this here house, we cats do not wear hats.  We don't wear boxes, either.  We just don't. None of us do.  I repeat, NONE OF US.  One of us cats starts trottin' around the house wearin' a hat, and the next thing you know, Peep #1 will be knittin' us all beanies and stuff.  You know how she is.  MOUSES!

And how the heck are you keepin' that box on your head, anyway?

Oh...

I see.

It's stuck, you say.

Hmmm...

Well it probably has somethin' to do with it not bein' a hat in the first place. Maybe somethin' to do with it bein' a very small box, and you know, the fact that it actually IS a box.  MOUSES!

And why DID you decide to stick that box on your head?

Oh...

I see.

That wasn't your intention, you say.

Hmmm...

So you stuck your head in the box, to see if you would fit;  and when you tried to pull your head out of the box, the box came with your head.

Hmmm...

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Sorry.  I know.  It's not polite to laugh at sisters.  Even if they do have boxes stuck on their heads but...

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

It may not be polite but it sure is fun.  MOUSES!

So anyway, Mason, how are you plannin' on gettin' your head unstuck from that there box?  Huh? HUH?  Inquirin' minds are gonna wanna know.  MOUSES!

Ah, you were hopin' I'd help you.  Help you get your head unstuck from the box.  You were hopin' I'd grab hold of one end, and pull it off your head, were you?

I don't know, Mason.  I've never been known to be overly helpful.

Plus, if I pull that box off your head before Peep #1 sees you...

Well she'd never forgive me, for sure.

HEY PEEPERS!  MASON HAS A BOX STUCK ON HER HEAD!!!  THAT'S RIGHT, SHE'S GONE AND GOT HER HEAD STUCK IN A BOX.  COME SEE!!!!!

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Mason, before the peep gets here to remove that box from your head, let me give you two pieces of advice. 

Number one is, there are some boxes into which, cats simply will not fit, and it should go without sayin' that in these boxes, one should NEVER attempt to sit.

And number two is, boxes and hats?  Two totally different things.  MOUSES!

snow

Hmmph!  Now who the mouses thought this would be a good idea?  I mean, who?  WHO? WHO?

Oh hello there, my friends.  How are ya? You caught me...

No, you did not catch me callin' for owls although truth be told, I can totally see how you might be thinkin' that.  You know, with my callin' out who and stuff.

Pardon me?  What's that?  Am I...?

No, I'm not callin' to peeps livin' in Whoville, either.

Truth be told, I'm just sittin' here, starin' out my office window.  Starin' and starin' and starin', and noticin' that even with all my starin', ALL I CAN SEE IS SNOW.

That's right, my friends, Mother Nature has gone and...

OH YEAH....  That's the answer.  You know, the answer to my question.  My question 'bout who the mouses thought dumpin' two feet of snow all over my yard was a good idea.  It was Mother Nature, that's who.

But it most definitely was NOT a good idea.  MOUSES!

There should be a law or somethin'.  Really, there should.  No one's mother should be dumpin' snow like that in anyone's yard.  MOUSES!

You ever think to yourself, you should just go smacky-paw somebody?  Smacky-paw 'em in the face, just because?  Maybe 'cause they looked at you funny?  Or maybe 'cause they stole your nip mouse or somethin'?

Yeah, well that's what I'd like to do that natural mother, for sure.  MOUSES!

Why, a kitty needs a pair of snowshoes just to get around out there.  MOUSES!

Well technically, two pair, but that is neither here nor there  Or even hare.

Hare... Snow...  Snowshoe hares...  Get it?  Hehehehee...

But seriously folks, if a kitty were to try walkin' around in my yard right now, a kitty would sink right down into two feet of snow.  Well technically, the kitty would probably just sink down to his tummy, and then kind of hang there, floatin' on the snow, in mid-air.  Or mid-hare!  HAHA!

Oh my mouses, I'm KILLIN' it here!

And speakin' of hares, have you seen Peep #1's HAIR?

After gettin' all bundled up to do some shovellin' through all of that snow yesterday, the first peep is sportin' a serious case of hat head, for sure.  And let me tell you somethin', IT IS NOT A PRETTY SIGHT. MOUSES!

What's that, Peepers?  What am I tellin' everyone? What am I sayin' about your hair?

Nothin'.

Anyway...

Back to that snow.  It's everywhere.  I've looked out every single window, both upstairs and down.  I've even had the peeps openin' doors for me.  Both front and back.  Yup, I had 'em open 'em up, multiple times.  And each and every time, everywhere, all there was, was snow.  Snow!  Up, down, all around...  SNOW.  There's white stuff as far as the eye can see.

I spy with my little eye, somethin' that is white.

And the answer would be... MY ENTIRE YARD.  MOUSES!

Of course, it's not as bad as it was on Monday.  At least today there's some sky.

The thing is, peeps don't realize just how annoyin' all this snow is for kitties like me.  I mean, sometimes, EVEN IN WINTER, I like to do garden patrols and whatnot.  But in this snow, garden patrols are out of the question, for sure.  Oh yeah, I could patrol along one of those paths with the two or three foot walls of snow, the peep has dug.  Yeah, I could do that.  I could, I suppose... But...

BUT THEY'RE JUST TOO DARNED SCARY!  You can't see anywhere but ahead.  You never know who you might meet up with in one of 'em, and that, my friends, is for sure.

And even more to the point, none of 'em go where I wanna go.

I told the peep, yesterday.  I told her, "Oh Peepers, dig me a path, please, all around the garden out back."

Well Peep #1 looked at me like I was crazy or somethin'.  Like I was the one goin' around in public with that case of hat head.  MOUSES!

And then, get this.  She said, "If you want a path all the way out there, Seville, you need to dig it yourself."

Yeah, she said it just like that.  I half expected a na-na-na-na-na-na at the end.

Well let me tell you, my friends, I nearly fainted right there on the spot. "Are you crazy or somethin', woman?" I said.  "I, Seville the Cat, am a cat, and shovellin' is beneath me, for sure. MOUSES!"

Next thing I knew, she was out the door, and the path I requested has not yet been dug.  And I'm kind of thinkin' it's not in the works, either.  MOUSES!

oh good, you're awake

Hey Peepers!

HEY PEEPERS!

HEY PEEPERS!

Oh good, you're awake.

I was just checkin'.  Just checkin' to make sure you were still alive.

Well...

Well the thing is, you had stopped sneezin' and wheezin' and coughin' and stuff, so I was beginnin' to wonder.  You know, wonder if you were still alive.

And by the way, I've called the doctor's office.  They'll see you tomorrow at five.

Why MY doctor, of course.

And by the other way, all patients are supposed to be secured on a leash, or a harness, or somethin' like that.  Or stuffed in a crate.  Since I'm pretty sure you won't fit in any of our carriers - and even if you did, there's no way I'd be carryin' you - we'll need to find you a harness to wear.  I know!  How 'bout a ball of yarn or somethin'?  I can wrap it around you several times.

Yeah right, and when was the last time you asked me if I needed to go to the doctor before takin' me there?  HUH?

But you know, maybe what you have isn't a cold at all.  Maybe it's allergies or somethin'.

OH MY MOUSES!  I HOPE YOU'RE NOT ALLERGIC TO ME!!!

And in case you're wonderin', if you are allergic to cats, you had better get used to takin' pills 'cause if it comes down to you or me, well...  Let's just say...  I'M NOT GOIN' ANYWHERE.  MOUSES!

You think cats can be allergic to peeps?

Nothin'.  Just wonderin'.

So you say it's not allergies, huh?  It's just a really bad cold.

And you're sure it's just a cold?  Really sure?  Absolutely positively so?  I'm only asking 'cause you had one just a few months ago, and you know you don't get many...

Okay, I'll take your word for it.

HEY PEEPERS!

Sorry, I couldn't hear you breath.

Or wheeze.

Guess you were fallin' back asleep.

You know Peepers, when they were handin' out the cold bugs, or whatever they are, how come you felt the need to take one?  HUH?

Nothin'.  Just wonderin'.

Yeah, yeah, yeah...  You're sick and you feel icky.

BLAH, BLAH, BLAH...

Complaints, complaints.  All I'm hearin' are complaints!

Did you hear me complainin' when you were sneezin' and wheezin' and coughin' and stuff?  Did you hear me complainin' about havin' to listen to you sneezin' and wheezin' and coughin' and stuff?  HUH?

And did you hear me complain' about your bein' sick and feelin' icky?  Did you hear me complainin' about your complainin'?  You know, complainin' about your havin' the cold?  HUH?

Okay, you might have heard me complainin' about that.

BUT WITH VERY GOOD REASON, FOR SURE.  MOUSES!

The truth is, Peepers, I was worried.

I was!  I was very worried, indeed.

Let me tell you Peepers, when I thought you had died in your sleep - you know, on account of your lack of sneezin' and wheezin' and coughin' and stuff 'cause you were sleepin' - I was super worried, for sure.

I mean...

WHO WOULD FEED ME MY MEALS???

And speakin' of food...

I'm feelin' a little peckish at the mo.  Yup, I'm feelin' a little peckish, for sure, and I could go for a snack right about now.

Well?

WELL?

WELL?

Do I need to spell it out for you, woman?  I'm in need of a snack and the snacks are in the kitchen.

SO YOU WANNA GO GET ME ONE?

That's right, Peepers.  Grab your box of tissues and take 'em with you.  Only thing worse than a sneezin' peep is a peep with nothin' into which to sneeze.

AND PEEPERS...  Could you mix in a few of those freeze-dried salmon flakes for me?  You know how I like 'em so.

AND REMEMBER TO WASH YOUR HANDS BEFORE HANDLIN' MY SNACKS!  Last thing I need is for you to give me your cold.

MOUSES!

what the mouses?

"What the mouses?" I cried as my brother Anderson rushed past me, nearly knockin' me over.

"THERE'S NO LITTER BOX IN THERE!" I yelled after him.

Andy stopped in his tracks, spinnin' on his hind paws.  "Why would I care about that? I don't need to go to the bathroom."

"My mistake," I shrugged.  "It's just that when I rush around like you were, it's usually to get to the litter box at the last minute."  I sat back on my haunches, deep in thought.  "Perhaps I should be tellin' you there are no treats in there, either. MOUSES!"

"I wasn't after treats," Anderson scowled. "I needed into your office, is all."

"First of all, Andy, you do not need into MY office.  Not ever.  Not ever as in never. And secondly...  Secondly...  Well nothin' else matters.  Nothin' else important, anyway.  MOUSES!"

I thought for a moment before asking.  "But just out of curiosity, why were you so desperate to get in there?"

"The door opened."

"And?" I asked, expectantly.

"And what?"

"And?  There must have been a better reason than the door openin' for you to be so anxious to get in there.  So anxious you nearly knocked me over."

Anderson looked thoughtful.  "No, that was it.  The door opened and I said to myself, I need in there, NOW.  So I dove in as fast as I could."

"And nearly knocked me right over.  MOUSES!  You know, it's not nice to knock your fur-sibs over as you run past 'em," I informed my brother.

"If it makes you feel any better, Seville, I nearly knocked myself over, too.  I mean, I nearly tripped over my tail.  And my rear legs kinda slipped out from underneath me and..."

"I noticed," I said, flatly.

"You did?"

"The whole world noticed, Andy.  I'm bettin' the six o'clock news will have footage and everythin'."

"It will?"

"Oh yeah, I'm thinkin' they filmed your little faux pas and..."

"THEY DID?"

I let out a big sigh.

"Um Seville, what's a foe paw?"

"It's a faux pas, actually."

"Oh.  Is that some kind of treat or something like that?" my brother asked.

"Depends upon whose watchin'," I smirked, before slammin' my office door shut.

I had made it halfway across the kitchen when I realized, "Oh my mouses!  ANDERSON IS ALONE IN MY OFFICE.  I can't allow that.  Goodness knows what mischief he'll get up to in there.

I raced back to my office door.  Opening it up, Andy came tearing out like a bat out of you-know-where, nearly knocking me over, once again.

"WHAT THE MOUSES?" I cried.  "Why the mouses are you rushin' out of there like that?"

"I needed out of your office, is all," was Anderson's reply.

"And why were you so desperate to get out, so quickly?"

"The door opened."

"And?  And?  AND?"

And Andy had no answer.

On second thought, never mind.  I don't wanna know," and I slammed my office door shut as quickly as I could.  "MOUSES!"

I shall endeavour

Uh-huh, uh-huh...  I shall endeavour to inform the peep.

OH PEEEE-PERRRRRS...

Oohhh..   Look at that.  A nip mouse!  Nice.

What did I want, Peepers?  Hmmm...  I forget.  Couldn't have been very important.

Excuse me, I hear someone at the door.


You again?  Oh yeah.  I shall endeavour to inform the peep.

OH PEEEE-PERRRRRS...

Oohhh...  Look at that.  An open bag of treats!  Nice.

What did I want this time, Peepers?  Hmmm...  I don't remember.  Nothin' important, I should think.

If you'll excuse me, I hear someone at the door.

You're back?  Again?  MOUSES!

OF COURSE I KNOW WHAT ENDEAVOUR MEANS.  MOUSES!

OH PEEEE-PERRRRRS...

Oohhh...  Look at that.  Someone left...

Wait a minute.  Was there somethin' I was supposed to tell the peep?

Hmmm...

HMMM...

I know!  Peepers, I just remembered somethin'.  I just remembered, I'm supposed to tell you somethin'.  No sorry, I'm supposed to endeavour to tell you somethin'.

Oh I have no idea.  No, I have no idea what it is I'm actually supposed to be tellin' you.  But I did remember that I was supposed to be tellin' you somethin'.

Like I said, I don't remember that.

Look Peepers, you should thank your lucky stars I'm REMEMBERIN' I'm supposed to be endeavourin' to tell you whatever-it-is I'm supposed to be endeavourin' to tell you.  Rememberin' what it actually is that I'm supposed to be endeavourin' to tellin' you?  Well that's a totally different matter.

OF COURSE I KNOW WHAT ENDEAVOUR MEANS. MOUSES!

Why the mouses does everyone keep askin' me that?

Now if you'll excuse me again, I believe I hear someone at the door.

WAIT A MINUTE!

I REMEMBER NOW.

Peepers, I am supposed to inform you that the squirrels livin' in the big ol' oak tree at the end of the driveway would appreciate some sunflower seeds and peanuts, if you would be so kind as to put some out for them.

There.  I did more than just endeavour to give you the message, Peepers.  I didn't just try.  I actually did it.

And everyone kept askin' me if I knew what endeavour meant.  MOUSES!

Hmmm...

On the other paw...

On the other paw, I think I was supposed to relay that message last week.  I don't think that was the message I was asked to relay today, at all.

HMMM....

I shall have to put my thinkin' cap on and endeavour to REMEMBER.  Yup, I shall have to endeavour to remember what I was asked to endeavour to tell the peep today, for sure.

But on the OTHER paw...

I do have four, you know.  Paws, I mean.

But as I was sayin'.  On the other paw, I think I've already endeavoured to endeavour enough for one day.  I believe I shall endeavour to remember, tomorrow.

MOUSES!

hey

Hey.

What's that, Peepers? I'm just sayin' hello.

Hey.

What's that, Peepers? I'm just lettin' you know I'm here beside you.

Hey.

What's that, Peepers? What?  WHAT?

Of all the nerve.

MOUSES!

Apparently, my tappin' Peep #1's knittin' needle while she's knittin', isn't appreciated.

MOUSES!

What's that, Peepers?  What?  WHAT?

Tappin'.  Grabbin'.  Tossin' to floor...  What's the difference?

To-may-to, to-mah-to, Peepers.  MOUSES!

And like you've never reached over and tapped me on the shoulder before.

Well sure, if I HAD some knittin' needles, you could tap me on my knittin' needles, but since you are currently hoarding all the knittin' needles in this here house, I don't have any knittin' needles of my own for you to tap, so instead, you end up tappin' me on my shoulder and...  And...  And...

Where was I again?

Oh yeah, bottom line is, your tappin' me on the shoulder is the very same thing as my tappin' your knittin' needle.  MOUSES!

I thought I already explained to you how tappin', grabbin', and tossin' to the floor, are all one and the same.

You know, sometimes I seriously wonder 'bout my peep's intellect.  MOUSES!

Hey.

What's that, Peepers?  I'm just sayin' hello again.

Hey.

What's that, Peepers?  I'm just lettin' you know I'm still sittin' here beside you.

Hey.

HEY.

HEY!!!

'Cause you were complainin' so much about my tappin' your knittin' needles. THAT'S why.  MOUSES!

Oh.  My.  Mouses.  A cat can't tap a peep's knittin' needles and apparently, a cat can't haul on a peep's knittin' yarn, either.  MOUSES!

Haul on.  Tear up.  Rip out...  To-may-to, to-mah-to, Peepers.  To-may-to, to-mah-to!  MOUSES!

Hey.