home alone

So yesterday, the peeps went out for the day.

ALL DAY.

ALL. DAY. LONG.

Okay, so it was more like three or four hours, but it felt like an entire day to me.

MOUSES!

What am I sayin'?  It felt like forever.  At least a couple weeks.  IT WAS AN ETERNITY, for sure.

MOUSES!

And as Peep #1 was leavin' the house, she called out, "Be good you two!  Be nice to one another.  There's plenty of food and water in your dishes."

Well let's break that down, shall we?

Be good.  Humph.  From personal experience I know that my idea of bein' good, and the peep's idea of bein' good, are TWO TOTALLY DIFFERENT things.  What's more, bein' good has NOTHIN' TO DO WITH NOTHIN' about bein' nice to my brother.  For example, a good smacky-paw to Rushy's ear might not be nice, I suppose, but it might also be totally necessary.  I shouldn't be penalised for doin' things that are necessary, AND I MOST CERTAINLY SHOULDN'T be told I'm bein' naughty for doin' what must be done.

MOUSES!

And what's this crapola 'bout there bein' plenty of food and water in our dishes?  I also know from personal experience that the peep's idea of plenty of food and water in our dishes, and my idea of plenty of food and water in our dishes, are TWO TOTALLY DIFFERENT things.

HAS SHE NEVER SEEN RUSHTON EAT?

Why, that ol' long-haired freak of a brother of mine can eat his weight in kibble.

AT ONE SITTING.

MOUSES!

Doesn't leave a whole lot left for me, you know?

MOUSES!

So anyway....

So anyway, the peeps left the house, yesterday, 'bout three in the afternoon.

By five past three, I was pretty sure we were both gonna starve.

And by ten past three, I KNEW we were gonna starve, for sure.

MOUSES!

As there was nothin' left to do but sit and wait for our impending demise, I decided to take a nap.

Well you can imagine how upset I was when I woke up 'bout an hour later to find the peeps still hadn't returned.  Oh sure, there was still kibble in the bowl - which was pretty miraculous considerin' the feline competitive eater otherwise known as Rushy was in the house - and there was water, too.

But still...

But still, the water wasn't fresh.  It wasn't straight from the tap, you know?  That bowl had been filled for over an hour.

Not that I like it fresh from the tap or anythin'.  Truth be told, I prefer good ol' puddle water to tap water, but a kitty can never find a good puddle when inside the house.

Believe me, I know.

MOUSES!

So after turnin' my nose up at the water that was not from a vintage puddle, and the kibble that Rushy had possibly breathed upon whilst I was taking a nap, I stared out the window for a bit.  Then I batted at a nip mouse, knocked a couple things off the coffee table, and considered makin' the left arm of the pink chair in the family room match the right arm by tearin' at a few threads.

"OH WOE IS ME!"  I cried, but alas, there was no one home to hear.

'Cept Rushy.

MOUSES!

I looked at the clock on the wall.

It was quarter past four.

MOUSES!

Tick-tock.  Tick-tock.  Tick-tock.  How many ticks and how many tocks would it take before my peeps would return home?

Mesmerized by the tickin', I must have fallen asleep once more, for the next thing I knew, the peeps were comin' in the back door.

"YOU'RE HOME!  YOU'RE HOME!  Oh my mouses, THANK GOODNESS YOU'RE HOME!"  I yelled.

In my mind.

'Cause let me tell you somethin', my friends; after havin' left us home alone to fend for ourselves FOR AN ETERNITY like they did, I wasn't gonna speak to those peeps ever again.  I was gonna give 'em the cold shoulder for sure.  I was gonna make 'em TALK TO THE TAIL if they wanted to converse with me.  I was gonna...

Well let's just say, I had to inspect their bags for toys and treats in TOTAL SILENCE, without so much as a purr or a squeak.

MOUSES!