nine weeks

Let's do the math, shall we?

Nine weeks times seven days per week; sixty-three days times twenty-four hours per day; one thousand five hundred and twelve hours times sixty minutes per hour; ninety thousand, seven hundred and twenty minutes times sixty seconds per minute; five million, four hundred and forty-three thousand, two hundred seconds in peep time, times nine cat seconds per peep second...

Holy smokes.  That's FORTY-EIGHT MILLION, NINE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-EIGHT THOUSAND, EIGHT HUNDRED SECONDS, IN CAT TIME!

MOUSES!

So there you have it:  THIS HAS BEEN AN ETERNITY, FOR SURE.

MOUSES!

And throughout this here eternity, I, Seville the Cat, have been abidin' by all the social distancin' and self-isolatin' rules.  I've been stayin' in my own yard and mindin' my own business.  I've been a good boy, for sure.

But that cat from that house nearby...

That darn cat has NOT been abidin' by the rules, at all!

Now normally I don't mind his comin' over.  Peeps don't mind, either, but you know peeps.  They're...

Well...

Peeps.

'Nough said.

But when I, Seville the Cat, have been playin' by the rules, I expect all the other cats in the neighbourhood to play by 'em too, you know?

Of course you do.

MOUSES!

The thing is...

IT ISN'T FAIR!

That's right, it isn't fair that I'm abidin' by the rules and other cats aren't.  If other cats are breakin' the rules...

THEN I WANNA BE A RULE BREAKER, TOO!

MOUSES!

So when that neighbourhood cat came a-visitin' the other day, I told him off real good.  I mean, really well, for I never said nothin' 'bout nothin' 'bout breakin' GRAMMAR rules.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, he came over to my house and entered my PURRsonal space.

Next thing I knew, the fur flew.

MOUSES!

Okay, so technically, there was no flyin' fur, but I'll tell you what did fly: Peepers, that's what.  I mean, who.

That's right, Peepers came flyin' out of the house on her broomstick....

Er-hmm.

On her own two feet, and broke up the altercation between that neighbourhood cat and me.

Actually, it wasn't much of an altercation.  Sounded a whole lot worse than it was.  I mean, by the time Peepers got outside, all she had to do was say my name and I immediately turned 'round and followed her in.

'CAUSE I HAD ALREADY GOTTEN MY POINT ACROSS, THAT'S WHY.

MOUSES!

But still...

But still, that cat was definitely breakin' the rules, and I'm wonderin' who should I call.  Who do you call 'bout cats breakin' self-isolatin' rules?  WHO?

What?  What's that, Peepers?  What's that you're babblin' on about now?

What do you mean there's no one to call?  What do you MEAN?

Well I'll be.  Apparently, if you're gonna call anybody 'bout rule-breakin' cats, you just call a peep.

Which, when you think about it, is sorta what I did with my yowlin' and howlin' and fizzin' and stuff.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!