six weeks

Yup, you heard that correctly.  It has now been six weeks.

Six weeks of what, you ask?

Well...

Well six weeks of the peeps subjectin' me to their presence every day, all day long.

MOUSES!

Six weeks.  Forty-two days.  One thousand and eight hours.  Sixty thousand, four hundred and eighty minutes.  THREE MILLION, SIX HUNDRED AND TWENTY-EIGHT THOUSAND, EIGHT HUNDRED SECONDS.

THAT'S THIRTY-TWO MILLION, SIX HUNDRED AND FIFTY-NINE THOUSAND, TWO HUNDRED SECONDS, IN CAT TIME.

MOUSES!

I'm tellin' ya, a kitty could go over the deep end bein' subjected to peeps constantly bein' on paw for this long.

WILL THIS TORTURE NEVER END?

There once was a time long, long ago - in pre-covid days - when a cat could mind his own business in his own house without worryin' where his peeps might be, and if said peeps might be contemplating picking him up or kissing him or just makin' general nuisances of themselves.

There once was a time...

Nowadays, a kitty has to constantly be on the lookout for peeps.  Constantly checkin' behind his back, looking furtively around a room when entering, and keepin' one eye open at all times.  Even when sleeping!

Last night, I jumped down from the chesterfield THREE times.

Three. Whole. Times.

And, I should add, NOT ONCE did I jump onto the couch.  No sirree.  Peepers kept pickin' me up to cuddle me and I had to keep jumpin' down.

I'm tellin' ya, Peepers is the VERY DEFINITION of a slow learner.

MOUSES!

One day, I'm gonna give her a good paw to the side of her stupid ol' head.

MOUSES!

Oh, and get this: We now only go to the grocery store once a week.

Well to be honest, this goin' for groceries only once a week (sometimes less) has been goin' on for the last six weeks, which, of course, is part of the reason I'm havin' to put up with Peepers' presence so much, but...

But..

Uh...

Now where was I?

Oh yeah, she now ONLY goes shoppin' once a week, no matter what.  Which would be okay, I guess, if it didn't mean she was HOME ALL THE TIME.

But this past week, Peepers forgot to get me somethin' I had asked her to get.  And when I reminded her 'bout her not gettin' me my grilled salmon along with the salmon pate, she said, "I'm sorry Seville, but I'm not going shopping again until next Tuesday.  You'll have to wait until then.

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?

MOUSES!

Well I was one gobsmacked kitty, for sure.  In fact, I was SO gobsmacked, I seriously meant to SMACK that peep right across her face.

IF SHE WAS GONNA FORGET SOMETHIN', WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE SOMETHIN' OF MINE?

MOUSES!

And then she said, "It wasn't on the list."

I...

I...

I...

HAS THE PEEP FORGOTTEN I HAVE PAWS AND CAN'T USE 'EM TO WRITE ON PAPER WITH PENCIL OR PEN?

MOUSES!

I'm tellin' ya, Peepers is THE WORST peep I've ever known.  THE WORST!

I'd trade her in for a new peep, lickety-split, but...

Well, you know.

Can't go shopping 'til Tuesday, so I can't trade her in 'til then.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!