So I was mindin' my own business, hangin' out in my garden, when I heard Peep #1 talkin' to herself.
Well she was kinda talkin'. Chantin'? Nah, talkin', I think.
So I was mindin' my own business, hangin' out in my garden, when I heard Peep #1 talkin', sayin', "My precious. Oh my precious," in a weird, and really creepy kinda way.
First thing I did was look for giant walkin' trees and hobbits and elves and things.
Findin' no trace, I wiped my brow with a sigh of relief. Whew!
Now back to the peep.
So I was mindin' my own business, hangin' out in my garden, when I heard Peep #1 say, "My precious. Oh, my precious," in a really creepy kinda way, while starin' at somethin' she was holdin' in her hands.
After DOUBLE-CHECKIN' - 'cause one can never be too careful 'bout this stuff - that there were no walkin' trees, hobbits, elves, or things, I approached the peep with great trepidation. "Whatcha got there Ol' Peepers?" I asked. "Anything good? Some nip, perhaps?"
With glazed-over eyes, the peep sat on her haunches, rockin' back and forth, and back and forth, while repeating the words, "My precious," over and over again.
Okay. So none of that really happened. MOUSES!
Well... Truth be told, some of it did. I was in the garden, and so was the peep. But the peep's eyes weren't all glazed over and stuff. And she wasn't doin' any impersonations of Gollum or any of his kin.
Did Gollum even have kin?
What REALLY happened is this:
I was mindin' my own business, hangin' out in my garden, when I heard Peep #1 say, "Oohhh... Look at this!" in a perfectly innocent kinda way.
A myriad of thoughts raced through my mind. I quickly realized that the peep had found somethin' truly valuable and precious...
And by precious, I mean in a sweet, non-creepy kinda way.
So anyway, I realized the peep had found somethin' incredibly valuable and apparently, she had found it in the compost she was usin' for the garden. CLEARLY, she had found some long-lost treasure. Some long-lost treasure of immeasurable value. Priceless, one might even say.
Should I call the press? Should I call the museums? Should I call my banker to give him the go ahead to purchase those nip futures?
I sidled up to the peep to get a better look at the priceless artifact held in her hands and...
"WHAT THE MOUSES?" I cried. "Why, that's nothin' but a stupid ol' piece of glass you're holdin' there in your hands. Do you know how many nip futures a stupid ol' piece of glass will buy? I'll give you a hint, Peepers. It's less than one. IT'S NONE!"
The peep, bein' a peep, was totally unfazed. "Isn't it pretty?" she asked. "Look at the pretty treasure, Seville. Look how it..."
"Mouses woman!" I interrupted. "Didn't you hear me? IT'S NOTHIN' BUT A STUPID OL' PIECE OF GLASS!"
"No Seville," she explained. "It's sea glass. And look how pretty..."
I took a deep breath, and reminded myself how the peep was just a peep, and that this sorta nonsense was bound to happen when dealin' with... You know... Peeps.
"Peepers, if that there stupid ol' piece of glass is sea glass, how come you found it here, in the garden, in the composted leaves? Aren't you supposed to find sea glass by the... Uh.... Um... Let me think. What's that place again? Oh, I know. The SEA?"
Still unfazed, the peep held her little find up to the sun. "It's so pretty," she sighed.
"You take a fallin' branch to the head there, Peepers?" I asked. "Or maybe some acorns?" and I looked around for any acorn-pelting squirrels lurkin' about. Seein' none, I peered more closely at the peep. Could her behaviour be attributed to sunstroke, perhaps?"
"And such a nice colour. Light blue with a hint of green."
Sunstroke. That had to be it. MOUSES!
But then I got to thinkin'...
Then I thought better of that.
Clearly, this was one mystery destined never to be solved. How the mouses does one find sea glass in a big ol' pile of compostin' leaves, in the middle of a garden, nowhere near any sea? It made no sense. It made no sense at all!
Unless the sea glass was actually part of some long-lost buried treasure. A treasure buried long, long ago. Perhaps in an old wooden chest. A chest filled with silver and gold. A chest left by pirates wearin' eye patches and the like.
But on the other paw, if one is gonna find buried treasure in my yard, it's more likely to be a treasure of a very different kind. After all, I do live with several other cats.
But on the OTHER paw, what if there really was a treasure? And could there be even more lyin' about? Lyin' about, right here in my very own yard?
Someone dial up my banker! I HAVE NIP FUTURES TO BUY. MOUSES!