"Is that a new perfume, Peepers?"
"It smells kinda FUNKY, if you ask me."
So anyway, it all started early one mornin', when the peep, bein' a peep, informed me that someone had sprayed on a chair. A chair that just happened to have some clothes lyin' on it.
Well if you ask me, chairs aren't supposed to be used as clothes closets in the first place, so if you go around leavin' clothes lyin' about on 'em, you're just askin' for trouble with a capital 'T'.
I, of course, bein' the ever so helpful kitty I am, immediately pointed that out to the peep.
Then, I, bein' the EXTREMELY EVER SO HELPFUL kitty I am, explained to the peep how she should take care not to do stuff like... Well... Well like sprayin' on chairs and clothes and things. 'Cause sprayin' is simply not becomin' of a peep.
I also added that accordin' to several advertisements on TV, there are products available to treat issues like these.
Yeah, well it kinda went downhill after that.
The conversation, I mean. Not the pee.
You know, there I was, bein' SO VERY, VERY HELPFUL, explainin' how important it is to get to the litter box before... Well, you know... Before it's too late, when...
"Oh sure, accidents can happen," I explained to the peep, "but they don't need to, you see. You just have to..."
And that, my friends, is where the conversation hit rock bottom, for sure.
And when I say rock bottom, I mean the very bottom rock, underneath a whole big ol' pile of rocks, lyin' at the bottom of a bottomless pit of rocks.
Or somethin' like that.
But I, never one to give up, forged ahead.
With the conversation, I mean.
"You just have to..." I began, again. "HEY. PEEPERS! ARE YOU EVEN LISTENIN' TO ME?" I politely enquired.
Okay, so maybe not quite politely, for seriously, it was time to switch gears.
"So what you're sayin' there, Peepers, is that it wasn't YOU who sprayed on the chair. Hmmm... Interestin'..."
"WELL IT CERTAINLY WASN'T ME!" I cried with indignation, realising the peep might be tryin' to palm the blame off on a TOTALLY BLAMELESS marmalade cat.
"No one's sayin' it was me, are they?" I enquired. "Because let me tell you..." I huffed. "LET ME TELL YOU..." I puffed. "LET ME..."
"Now um... What chair did you say that was, again, Peepers?"
No, my friends. I was NOT acceptin' responsibility. I was NOT suggestin' there was a possibility, as remote as such a possibility could be, that I, Seville the Cat, could be responsible for... Well, you know... The pee.
I was simply dottin' my 'i's and crossin' my 't's.
I sat back on my haunches and looked up at the peep. "Peepers," I said. "You and I both know I never make messes outside of the litter box. And I hardly ever spray. Oh sure, there WAS that one time when I sprayed on a peep..."
I stopped myself short, for in hindsight, I realised, unfortunately AFTER lettin' it slip, that it might not be wise to remind the peep about how once upon a time, a VERY LONG time ago, I had, in fact, sprayed upon a peep. And that that peep just happened to be her.
But to be fair, that one time, way back when, occurred right after I had recovered from a bout of the crystals.
Plus, it was Valentine's Day.
So, you know...
"But Peepers, that little Valentine's Day incident aside, you and I both know I WOULD NEVER spray on a chair."
I stopped myself short once more.
"What chair was that again? I don't believe you ever actually said."
Well the look on the Peep's face told me all I needed to know.
"ANDY DID IT!" I cried. "It was Andy, for sure. Oh yeah, sprayin' on a chair? That sounds just like a thing an Andy would do."
And the peep, bein' a peep, BELIEVED ME.
What can I say?
I've still got it.