deja vu

"He went thataway, Peepers," and I motioned with a flick of my tail.

"Where?"

"There."

"What?"

WAIT A MINUTE!!!

I NEED YOU TO HOLD ONTO THOSE HORSES, for sure.

Oh my mouses, THAT'S what happened about a month ago, and not what happened this last week.

MOUSES!

Although there were some similarities, to be sure.

Andy had another appointment with the doctor, you see.  Dr. T. needed to check on his teeth.  She needed to see if the abscess was all gone, and to figure out if there was a tooth needin' to be...  Well...  Removed.

So...

So picture it: Andy was upstairs on a bed, quietly mindin' his own business, when Peep #1 entered the room with a harness tucked into her pocket.

AND HE WAS OFF!

Again.

MOUSES!

Oh those two had a FUN time runnin' around the house.  They went down two flights of stairs, all the way down to the basement, then back up into the kitchen, spent some time under the kitchen table, then back down to the basement behind the freezer, and then...  Well it was about then when Andy remembered that if you hide under the stairwell, way WAY at the back, where there are no lights at all, peeps won't crawl in there to get you.

Fact.

MOUSES!


So the appointment on the 22nd of December...  Well..  Well it had to be cancelled, for sure.

MOUSES!

Now fast forward to December 29th.

Once again, Andy was upstairs on a bed when the peep sauntered up to the second floor.  "Hum-dee-dum-dee-dum," she sang.  If you can call that noise singin', that is.  "Where-oh-where is the toilet paper?" she asked, before openin' the hall closet to look for it in there.

But it was a ruse, my friends.  A RUSE!

Apparently not findin'' any toilet paper in the closet - EVEN THOUGH THERE WAS A WHOLE BIG BAG OF IT SITTIN' THERE WAITIN' TO BE SHREDDED - she made her way into the bedroom.  "Hum-dee-dum-dee-dum," she sang again.  "Where-oh-where is the... Uh...  Hmmm..."

Lookin' as innocent as possible, the peep made her way over to the dressing table.  She reached out to lift somethin' up, then SPUN on her heels AND MADE A GRAB FOR ANDY, who was still lyin' on the bed.

But it was too late, 'cause...

HE WAS OFF!

Down the stairs the two went with Andy in the lead, and Peep #1 close on his tail.   Andy swung to his right to head down into the basement, only to find...

MOUSES!  Thwarted.  The door to the basement was closed.

Good thinkin' there, Peepers.  Always good to be prepared.

Then into the family room they went, where Andy crouched down, low, and gave the peep a good ol' meow.

Peep #1 approached, speakin' softly to him, pretendin' she wasn't intent on grabbin' him the first opportunity she got.

My gosh, how dumb does the peep think Andy is?  Andy's not gonna fall for that.  Andy...

Apparently, Andy did.

MOUSES!

Then the harness was strapped on and off the two went to see Dr. T.  And that, my friends, was that.

Uh...  Not quite, my brother says, 'cause...

'Cause Andy, apparently, has some tartar formin' on his teeth.  And do you know what?

HE HAS TO USE MOUTHWASH NOW.

BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

On the other paw, I probably shouldn't laugh.  This could be a good thing.  Maybe it can deal with that stinky ol' fish breath of his.

MOUSES!

But imagine a cat havin' to use mouthwash.  Oh sure, it's perfectly edible stuff.  Perfectly safe for cats, I'm told.  Not sure on the taste, mind you.  The peep asked the doctor but alas, the doctor has not tasted it, herself.  And Andy isn't tellin' me if he likes how it tastes or not.  He's still annoyed 'bout havin' his mouth pried open and mouthwash squirted inside, while I...

While I, Seville the Cat, am sittin' back with my paws up, enjoyin' the show.

MOUSES!

the day of the box

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!

Scratch that.  Christmas was yesterday.  It's kinda all over now.

Hmmm...

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY!

Scratch that, too.  It's too early for New Years.  That's not 'til next week.

Hmmm...

I know!

HAPPY BOXING DAY, MY FRIENDS.  May the power of the boxes be with you.

That's more like it.

MOUSES!

In case you hadn't heard, today is Boxin' Day, a day when Canadian kitties, from coast to coast to coast, celebrate boxes.

FYI, it is not a day for boxin' fur-sibs about the ears.

Apparently.

At least that's what I've been told.

Twice already, this mornin'.

MOUSES!

But anyway...

But anyway, as luck would have it, after the Christmas festivities were over yesterday, we were left with some really good sized boxes in the livin' room.  As a matter of fact, we were left with four good sized boxes, which, AS I WAS TOLD THIS MORNIN', TWICE, means that since there's a box for each one of us cats to use, there's no need for any of us to be boxin' our fur-sibs about the ears.

But in all fairness, the box Mason was in was the box I wanted.

You know what they say...

LOCATION. LOCATION. LOCATION.

MOUSES!

And it's not like Mason didn't box my ears right back.

TWICE.

MOUSES!

But do you hear the peeps complaining 'bout that?

OH NO...  APPARENTLY, retaliatory ear boxin' is PURRFECTLY acceptable 'round here.

Well not so much acceptable as uh...

Um...

Allowed.

Well actually, not so much allowed as uh...

Um...

Recognised as the inevitable, I suppose.

But retaliatory ear boxin' on account of other retaliatory ear boxin'?

Yeah, the peeps didn't go for that either.

MOUSES!

Of course, I pled not guilty on account of my bein' nipped at the time.

Of course, I'm plannin' on bein' nipped all this week, on account of Santa bringin' me the mother load of nip toys yesterday, so...

So...

So Mason might wanna wear somethin' on her head to protect her once again soon-to-be-boxed ears.

MOUSES!

'twas the night before Christmas

'Twas the Night Before Christmas...

And all through the house...

*CRASH*

*BOOM*

*SMASH*

There were creatures a-stirrin'.

Perhaps a really, REALLY BIG mouse.

"Hey, that was no mouse, Mason.  That was me, your brother.  You know, me:  Seville the Cat.  MOUSES!"

"Why are you still up at this hour, Seville?  You KNOW Santa won't bring us our presents until we're all tucked in bed, asleep, dreamin' of..."

"Yeah, yeah...  I know the drill.  Santa won't come 'til we're all dreamin' of sugarplum, nipped up fairies and stuff.  MOUSES!"

"Then WHY are you still up?"

"Because I...  Uh...  Um...  Well..."

"Spit it out," demanded my sister.  So I did.  I spat the nip leaf I had been chewin' upon, right into her paw.  MOUSES!"

"Ewww..." and Mason wiped her paw on the sleeve of my nightshirt.

Wait a minute.  Nightshirt?  Sleeve?  I'm not wearin' any stupid ol' nightshirt with any stupid ol' sleeves.  MOUSES!

"Wake up, Sivvers.  Wake up!"

I could hear my brothers' voices, and I could feel someone tuggin' on my tail.  Givin' my head a good shake, I slowly sat up in the cat bed.  "What's goin' on?" I asked, not really wanting to know the answer, on account of my fearin' ANY answer from those two long-haired brotherly freaks of mine would be..  Well...  Weird.

To say the least.

MOUSES!

"There's someone in the living room," Andy whispered.

"And I think they're stealing things," added Rushton.

"WEASEL ALERT!" Mason yelled as she entered the room, brandishing what looked to be a weapon of some sort.  "We have weasels in the living room," she stated, "messing about with our tree.  WE'RE GOING TO DEFCON THREE."

Rolling my eyes, I groaned, "You really have to stop watchin' weird shows on TV, Mason.  MOUSES!"

"You'll change your tune about my studies of military manoeuvres when we're in full battle mode with the Weasel Syndicate," my sister said through gritted teeth.  "They're in there right now, stealing the presents Santa brought, no doubt.  We can't just sit back and do nothing, Seville.  We must protect what is ours!"

Not accustomed to bein' the voice of reason in my family, I spoke up anyway.  "And how do you know there are weasels in the livin' room, pray tell?"


"Did you not hear the crash?  AND THE BOOM?  AND THE SMASH?" Mason asked.

I scratched behind an ear with a hind leg.  "Come to think of it, I did.  Weasels made those noises, huh?  Are you SURE?"

"Of course I'm sure," Mason snapped.

"You SAW the weasels, and everythin'?"

"Well..."  Mason pawed at the ground.  "I didn't exactly SEE them.  But I heard them.  And when one hears the activity of weasels, one KNOWS they're up to no good.  You must know that, Seville.  You've dealt with the Weasel Syndicate before."

I nodded.  "True.  But..."

"But nothing.  COME ON," and she tossed me a...  To tell the truth, I have no idea what it was my sister tossed me.  It looked kinda like a spatula, but on the other paw, it could have been just a wooden spoon.

"And you two, too!" Mason cried, throwing Andy and Rushy kitchen implements as well.  Putting a small-sized stainless steel mixing bowl over her head, she peered out from under its rim.  "ONCE MORE UNTO THE BREACH, DEAR FRIENDS.  ONCE MORE!"

I shook my head in dismay at my thinkin'-she-was-a-king-named-Henry, sister.  Or was that Harry...  Whatever.

As quietly as we could while dragging various weaponized kitchen implements behind us, we four cats crept up to the living room door.  Mason had been right.  There WAS someone in there messing about with our stuff.  I could still hear the crashes and the booms, although they weren't nearly as loud as Mason had made 'em out to be.

"You look first," I hissed at my sister.  "You have the protective head gear."

Mason nodded, and peered around the entrance way.  Moments later, she turned back to us with a rather odd expression on her face.  Embarrassment, I wondered?

"It appears to be," coughed Mason.  "It seems..."

"What's up?" asked Rushy.  "How come your peachy cream furs are lookin' bright orange and red like us Marmies'?"

"Well..."  Mason looked about, furtively.

"Oh for mousin' out loud," I cried, headin' into the livin' room myself, brandishing my...  Yeah, I still wasn't sure if it was a wooden spatula or a funny lookin' spoon, but I figured whatever it was, it would do in a pinch.

                                 ******************************

"SEVILLE!" Peep #1 cried.

"WHY ARE YOU STILL AWAKE?" asked Peep #2.

"We're uh...  We were just...  UHHH..."

"We?  I only see you," and the first peep narrowed her eyes.

I looked over my shoulder.  MOUSES, there was no trace of my fur-sibs to be seen.  Those three cowardly siblings of mine had high-tailed it out of the area, the moment they sensed trouble.

"I uh...  I thought you were weasels," I confessed to the peeps.  "But in all fairness, I didn't come to that conclusion all by myself."

"And what are you doing with my cake decorating comb?" Peep #1 asked.

So THAT'S what it was.  Humph.  Who woulda guessed?  MOUSES!  I looked up at the peep.  "You want it back?"

"Probably not," she answered, shaking her head.

"So anyway...  Never mind 'bout what I'm doin' still up on Christmas Eve, Peepers.  What's more to the point is, WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOIN' STILL UP?  Huh?  HUH?  Tryin' to catch a glimpse of Santa or somethin'?  'Cause if you are, it's not gonna work.  The big guy in red won't come down the chimney 'til all of us are tucked into our beds.  DON'T YOU KNOW ANYTHIN', PEEPERS?  HUH?"

The peep looked down at her paws - I mean, feet -  and mumbled somethin' about my bein' correct.

"What was that, Peepers?  Didn't quite catch what you said.  YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO SPEAK UP."

"You're RIGHT, Seville," she said.

"Of course I am," I smiled back.  "Now off to bed with you, you peeps," I told them.  "Off to bed and to sleep.  And uh...  Uh...  Um...   And a Very Merry Christmas to the both of you.  Let's plan on gettin' up at dawn to open prezzies, shall we?  Dawn sounds about right."  I turned and skedaddled it out of the room before either peep could complain 'bout gettin' up so early.  "Nighty night!" I cried from the hallway.  "You two had best get some sleep."

Moments later, once more tucked back in my cat bed, I softly whispered to all my friends from all around the world...

it's up!

It's up!  IT'S UP!
Hoo-hoo...  THE CHRISTMAS TREE IS UP.

But boy-oh-boy, was gettin' it decorated EVER an adventure.

MOUSES!

You all know 'bout naughty words and stuff, right?  Well let me tell you, I HEARD QUITE A FEW of 'em last night.

MOUSES!

Now, where should I begin?

At the beginnin', I suppose.  That would make sense.  I shall begin with the puttin' up of the lights.

MOUSES!

Picture it:  My house, three strings of lights, and a... Uh... Um...  A peep.

You know, I think I'm gonna ask Santa to bring us a pre-lit Christmas tree next year, 'cause Peep #1 is ABSOLUTELY NO GOOD at puttin' on those lights.

On the other paw, I did have a lot of fun watchin' her try.

On the OTHER paw, it was pretty obvious she wasn't havin' any fun at all.

BUT ON THE OTHER PAW - which I can say on account of my bein' a cat, and cats havin' four paws - I don't really care.  'Bout the peep not havin' fun, I mean.  My enjoyment of watchin' her strugglin' with the lights is far more important than her frustrations of dealin' with them, for sure.

Plus, I learned a few new swear words in the process, and this cat likes to take advantage of all educational opportunities, for sure.

MOUSES!

AND DID YOU KNOW, once all the lights are up on the tree, if they're not DISTRIBUTED EVENLY, one has to take 'em all down and start all over again?

TRUE FACT.

MOUSES!

Well once the lights were all up - THE SECOND TIME  - the REAL fun began.

Now to be perfectly honest, I will admit that at this point, the naughty words were no longer bein' said.  Also, the peep's face was no longer red.  But...  But there was still a show to be seen, for sure.

Peep #1 thinks she can dance.

HAHAHA....

FYI, she can't.

MOUSES!

But that didn't stop her from dancin' and prancin' around the rockin' ol' Christmas tree.

You should have seen her.  She was boppin' this way and that to the Christmas music, while hangin' the ornamental breakables all over the...

Wait a minute.  Did I say the naughty words had ceased?  I think I did, but I shouldn't have, because...

Because this was about the time when the peep came face to face with the GIGANTIC metal mess.

Picture it:  My house, an enormous mass of metal ornament hanger thingies lookin' like a big ol' mess of tangled up tumbleweed, and a peep.

MOUSES!

AND DID YOU KNOW, if you untangle those ornament hook thingies, and then pile 'em up together after they've been untangled, they come to life and get all tangled up together again?

TRUE FACT.

MOUSES!

Oh, and did you ALSO know, sometimes they get lost in the tree?

Yeah, that happened quite a few times.  EVERY SINGLE TIME a glass ball fell from the peep's grasp, even though the ball was caught and retrieved, the metal hanger was nowhere to be seen.  I have no idea where they went, although I'm thinkin' it might be the same place odd socks disappear to from the dryer.

And judgin' by the peep's cries of anguish every time one of those metal thingies was lost, it must be easier to knit an entire sock than to untangle just one of those hooks.

MOUSES!

So...

So picture it:  My house, a peep dancin' around the livin' room while more-than-occasionally yellin' out swear words, and me.

But the good news is...

Well the peep would say the good news is that I didn't get last night's escapades on film.  And you know, she's probably right about that, 'cause boy-oh-boy would it ever be embarrassing...

FOR HER.

But MY good news is that we now have a fully decorated Christmas tree all ready for Santa.

AND...

And ready for me to knock down...  I mean, play...  I MEAN, REDISTRIBUTE the ornamental breakables.  Breakable ornamentals...  You know, the glass balls and things.

So...

So there are likely to be more naughty words bein' said, very soon.

MOUSES!

music to my ears

I'm here!  I'm here!  What have you got there, Peepers?

What do you MEAN it's not what I think?  You mean those aren't treats?

It's wrappin' paper, you say?

But...

But...

Awww...  MOUSES!

Stupid wrappin' paper sounds just like a package of treats.

                           **********

I'm here!  I'm here!  What have you got there, Peepers?

What do you MEAN it's not what I think?  You mean those aren't treats, either?

It's the plastic stuff from the inside of a box of candies, you say?

But...

But...

Awww...  MOUSES!

Stupid box of candy plastic stuff sounds just like a package of treats.

                           **********

I'm here!  I'M HERE!  What have you got there, Peepers?

What do you MEAN it's not what I think?  You mean THOSE aren't treats, EITHER?

It's an empty package of frozen veggies that you're puttin' into recycling, you say?

But...

But...

Awww...  MOUSES!

Stupid empty packaging from STUPID OL' DISGUSTIN' VEGGIES sounds just like a package of treats.

                           **********

I'm tellin' ya, it's like the peep is TRYIN' to deceive me.  She has been doin' stuff with stupid stuff ALL MORNIN' LONG.  Stuff that has sounded like the opening of packages of treats.  And it's just not right, you know?  MY EARS have been hearin' treats.  At least they thought they were hearin' treats, and they went and told my tummy and everythin', AND NOW my tummy is complainin' due to a TOTAL LACK of the treats.

MOUSES!

What?  WHAT?  What, pray tell, is that, that I hear?  That sound...  That sound that is music to my ears.

Do I risk it once more, my friends?

Hmmm...

Yes, I must.  I Must. Take. The Risk. For sure.

I'm here!  I'M HERE!  What have you got there, Peepers?

What do you MEAN it's...

Oh.

Really?

TRULY?

You're not playin' mean tricks on me again, are you Peepers?  You're not just makin' noises meant to deceive?

You mean, what I'm hearin' really is what I think it is?

Hear that, tummy?  Hear that good news?

WE'RE GETTIN' TREATS.

Mmmm....

Now THAT is music to my ears.

Not to mention my tummy, too.

MOUSES!

concerns

I, Seville the Cat, have concerns.

That's right, my friends, CONCERNS.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, I bet you're all wonderin' about what I am concerned, AND I bet you're all thinkin' it has somethin' to do with the peep.

Well...  Yeah.  Why else?

MOUSES!

So here's the thing.

Scratch that.  So here are the things.

MOUSES!

Here, at my house, we are not yet ready for Christmas.  We're not even close!  Our house is decoration deficient, for sure.  The tree is still not up.  The halls are not yet decked.  There isn't even a bough of holly to be seen!  AND, with Canada Post's rotatin' strike earlier this month, I don't know if Santa even got my letter!!!

MOUSES!

Oh, and I'd like to add to that list, the lack of festive sounds and smells comin' from the kitchen.  No nip cookies bakin'.  No niptinis bein' stirred.  I haven't even detected a whiff of a nip sprig on cheese.

MOUSES!

Plus, the peep SERIOUSLY needs to do somethin' with her hair.  I mean, if Santa gets a look at that...  WHATEVER it is on her head, he'll probably climb right back up the chimney without leavin' a thing.

That is if he got my letter in the first place.

MOUSES!

WHAT IF Santa didn't get my letter at all?  What if he's thinkin' I don't want prezzies for Christmas?  What if... ? 

MOUSES!

But back to that tree.

Or MISSIN' tree, that is.

Yup, you heard right.  The Christmas tree is STILL not up, and it's less than two weeks 'til Christmas.  Oh sure, the peep did bring out the heavy duty vacuum and give the livin' room a really good clean, but to be honest, I think she just did that to annoy me.

MOUSES!

And yeah, she even used the new pet mess carpet cleaner on some uh...

AND WHO THE MOUSES MAKES A CARPET CLEANER SPECIFICALLY FOR PET MESSES, ANYWAY?

I DON'T CARE HOW WELL IT WORKS!

It's insultin' as all get out.

MOUSES!

And whatever you're thinkin', those messes?

THEY WERE NOT MADE BY ME.

It was some other orange kitty, for sure.

And...

And...

And?

Oh yeah, 'bout that missin' tree.

It is still not up.

It's still undecorated.

It' still...

STILL...

MISSIN'.

And that, my friends, is a moused-up, peep-caused travesty.

MOUSES!

the appointment

"He went thataway, Peepers," and I motioned with a flick of my tail.

"Where?"

"There."

"What?"

"To your right, Peepers.  He went to your right."  I watched the peep turn and nearly run into the wall.  "No, your OTHER right.  The other...  Hmmm...  To my right, I guess.  Hehehe...  Yeah," and I sighed.  "He went that way," and I pointed to uh..  The peep's left.

The peep took off, and out of the kitchen.  She looked kinda frenzied.  Somewhat frazzled, too.  She didn't look good, just between me and you.

"Did he go downstairs or up?" she asked from the front hall.

"Yes."

"What?"

Tryin' to keep my cool, I reminded myself 'bout the peep's lack of skills when it comes to comprehension and stuff.  "I said, yes."

"Yes he went upstairs, or yes he went down to the basement?"

"YES HE WENT ONE OF THOSE TWO WAYS!" I hollered.  "MOUSES!"

Then I thought for a moment.  On the other paw, maybe he went into the livin' room.  I wondered if I should I tell the peep 'bout that third possibility.  Nah, she was already out of the kitchen.  Best thing I could do was let her search through all the bedrooms, upstairs, first.  If she didn't find Andy up there, I would suggest she check the livin' room.

I sauntered into the livin' room, myself.  You know, to check if Andy was there.  And lo and behold, he was.  "I see you're hangin' out here in the livin' room," I said.

"DON'T TELL THE PEEP!" my brother cried.  "I have a doctor's appointment this morning, and I do not want to go."

"I know all 'bout that doctor's appointment of yours.  Peep #1 is currently upstairs looking for you, you know.  She'll be lookin' under beds, and in closets, and who knows where else."

"Yeah, I saw her heading up there but managed to duck out of sight in the nick of time.  Whew!"  My brother wiped his forehead with a paw.  "She's...  OH NO!  She's coming back down the stairs, Sivvers.  I'VE GOT TO HIDE."  And with that, Andy disappeared under the chesterfield.  It was surprising, to say the least, as I had no idea he could fit under there.  MOUSES!

The peep poked her head into the livin' room.  "Any sign of your brother in here?" she asked.

"Ummm..."  I looked about.  "Not at the mo," I replied, which was true, on account of my not actually bein' able to SEE Andy under the couch.  There was no trace of him.  Not even the tip of his tail.  MOUSES!

The peep sat down on the arm of the big chair to catch her breath.  "Well he isn't upstairs.  I looked EVERYWHERE."

I nodded, wonderin' if I should tell her where Andy was.  Nah, best to let the peep keep on lookin'.   Peeps do like to feel a sense of accomplishment, I've found, and to point out Andy's location would spoil all my...  I mean, HER fun.  MOUSES!

"Did you check in the basement?" I nonchalantly asked.

"Not yet," and she stood.  "I'm heading there now."

"Thanks for not squealing on me," Andy said over my shoulder once the peep had left the room.  "To be honest, I thought you were going to tell."

"If we're bein' HONEST, so did I," I replied.  "But Andy, didn't you say you had a sore tooth?  You know, the only way to make that feel better is to go to the doctor.  Total fact.  Not alternative or anythin'.  MOUSES!"

Andy narrowed his eyes, obviously thinkin' about what I had said.  "But I don't LIKE going to the...  MEEEOOOOOWWWWW!" my brother loudly screeched.

"That tooth botherin' you again?"

Before he could answer, I understood exactly why he had yelled.  The peep was swoopin' into the livin' room like a condor or somethin'.  Never before had I seen her move with such swiftness.  Andy frantically looked in all directions, but there was nowhere to hide, and moments later, the peep had him in her clutches, and was holding him to her chest.

"Lemme go!  LEMMO GO!"

"No way, Buster.  You have an appointment at the vets."

"I KNOW!  That's why I need you to let go."

The peep and my brother each tried to stare the other down.  The peep won, of course, because...

Because...

Because she cheats, would be my guess.

MOUSES!

And then, without further ado...

Okay, so there was another good five or ten minutes of the peep strugglin' to get Andy's harness on.  He doesn't make it easy, that lad.  Believe me, I know, 'cause I heard the peep cry MOUSES! at least thirty-nine times.

A little while later...

'Bout an hour or so later, the peep and Andy returned.  The peep looked a little worse for wear, with her hair all kinda askew.  And her sweater was COVERED in fur.  Andy, on the other paw, looked kinda...  Hmmm...  Loopy.

I know, it's hard to tell with that boy.  But he really did look MORE loopy than usual.  Peep said the doctor gave him some pain meds.  In other words, MEDICAL NIP.

MOUSES!

So it's a wait and see kinda situation, from what I understand.  He has an abscess, but the antibiotics will deal with that.  And there are pain meds on board 'til those bio-ants do their thing.  The peep and my doctor will have a chat early this week.  Probably 'bout clothes and makeup and other GIRLY things.

On the other paw, they'll probably just talk about Andy, discussing how and when Dr. T. will attempt to track down his naughty tooth.

MOUSES!

the scandalous cad

So there I was in my office, workin' hard on my blog and totally mindin' my own business, when...

Yeah, I was TOTALLY mindin' my own business.

When alarm bells started doin' their dingin'.  There were alarm bells and sirens, EVERYWHERE.  There was even an alert on the television.

MOUSES!

Okay, so maybe there weren't actually any alarms or sirens doin' their dinger.  And maybe there wasn't a TV alert, either.  MAYBE it was really more of a case of the first peep walkin' into my office and openin' her mouth.

Of course, when Peep #1 opens her mouth, what comes out can kinda sound like the screechin' of a siren, for sure.

It's a proven fact, you know.  And I'm not the only one who says it.

MOUSES!

But I digress.  Let's get back to that alarming message.

So there I was, hard at work on my blog, when Peep #1 said, "Hey Sivvers, did you read what some guy wrote on your Facebook page?"

Of course, I immediately raced over to my fan page, on Facebook, and started reading.

My jaw dropped.

My pallor paled.

My eyes started burning.

A torrent of tears streamed down my face, and in dismay I watched as they formed a puddle right there on the floor beneath me.

What?

Why?

HOW?

HOW COULD ANYONE WRITE SOMETHIN' AS NASTY AS THAT?

AND ABOUT ME, TOO.

MOUSES!

I looked at the post I had previously made 'bout how I was writin' a book-length adventure, and just below my good news...

Some STUPID GUY wrote...

He wrote...

MOUSES! 

Of all the good for nothin' guys out there...

In all the no good gin joints of the world...

AND HE HAD TO GO COMMENT ON MINE?

Okay, so my Facebook fan page isn't exactly a gin joint.

Isn't exactly?  It isn't at all.

And it certainly isn't no good.

But still... 

But still, I, Seville the Cat, was annoyed.

And rightly so, too.

Of course, that was AFTER my heart had been broken.

*sighs*

But the peep said to me, "Don't worry, Sivvers, keep your chin up.  There's always going to be that one guy who just can't help himself but to say something nasty."

And you know somethin'?

SHE WAS RIGHT! 

Which just goes to show you, there's a first time for everythin', for sure. 

MOUSES!

I mean, who does this guy think he is, anyway?  Has he written any books?  Does he know how to write?  Does he even know how to READ? 

MOUSES! 

So even though this stupid guy went and TOTALLY SPOILED the announcement 'bout my writin' a book... 

TOTALLY spoiled it, for sure. 

And even though he went and TOTALLY RUINED my good mood...

You know what?

I, Seville the Cat, am gonna forgive him.

'Cause truth be told, maybe, as the peep said, he just can't help himself.  Maybe he's just naturally nasty.

And MAYBE I can work his name into my book.

As a villain, of course.

Or perhaps as the victim.

Or MAYBE a SCANDALOUS CAD.

Who ends up at the bottom of very deep river, wearin' blocks of cement-fashioned shoes.

'Cause you know somethin', else?

THAT'S the kinda thing we writing types do.

MOUSES!

whacking practice

Hey Peepers!  Check the calendar on the wall, would ya?  Check what month this is.

Uh-huh, uh-huh.  Yup.  Uh-huh.

So we're in agreement it's now December, right?

Good.

So...

SO GET OFF YOUR LAZY TAIL, AND PUT THE CHRISTMAS TREE UP.

MOUSES!

It's December, Peepers.  Time to start deckin' the halls, and stuff like that.

And while you're at it, you might wanna put those ghost decorations from Hallowe'en back in the garage.

Just sayin'...

MOUSES!

Come on Peepers, I have a Christmas tree to knock down.

And we all know I can't even begin to work on topplin' it over, until it's up.

MOUSES!

So where are we on this tree?

You need to finish your coffee, FIRST?

MOUSES!

Peepers, I'LL finish the coffee for you, if you don't get up off your tail, and...

Well of course I'm not gonna drink it.  Coffee is very bad for kitties, you know.  I was actually thinking more along the lines of...

Well...

Well usin' it for whackin' practice, actually.  You see, a cat needs to start practicin' his whackin' skills on somethin', each season.  No reason not to do a few trial whacks with the coffee pot.  Make sure my aim is spot on and stuff.  You know, practicin' my whacks for when the tree goes up, 'cause once it's up, there will be a whole lot of whackin' to be done, for sure.

Think of it like battin' practice for cats who like to whack.

MOUSES!

Whackin'?

You know, like when I whack the ornaments with my paws, knockin' them one by one, onto the floor.  The ornamental breakables you put up on the tree.  The breakable ornamentals.  THE ORNAMENTS YOU PUT ON THE TREE FOR ME TO WHACK.

Boy-oh-boy, Peep #1 is super slow on the uptake today.  She's movin' like a turtle on crutches, for sure. 

Guess she really does need that coffee to get her movin', after all.

Humph!

But anyway...

But anyway Peepers, once I've whacked all the ornamental breakables off the tree, I can then whack the tree itself, and bring it down.


Why?  Why do I need to knock down the ornaments BEFORE knockin' down the tree, you ask?

ISN'T IT OBVIOUS?

SO THEY WON'T BREAK WHEN I WHACK THE TREE DOWN.

Here Peepers, drink another cup of coffee.  You get that in ya, and we can start this conversation all over again.

I promise to explain more slowly next time.

MOUSES!