seven weeks

Me oh my, time does fly.

NOT!

These days, time drags on and on like a kitty doin' a bum wipe on the lightest coloured carpet in the house, after usin' the toilet.

I mean, litter box.

MOUSES!

Let me tell you somethin', my friends: I've had the peeps home all day, every day, for seven weeks now.  Seven. L-O-N-G weeks.  It's amazin' I'm still alive.

Scratch that.  OF COURSE I'd still be alive.  We cats have nine lives, you know, and havin' your peeps home all day, every day, isn't likely to cut into any of those, but...

BUT IT'S AMAZIN' I'M STILL SANE, FOR SURE.

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Seven weeks is like...

Well it's like thirty-eight MILLION, one hundred and two thousand, four hundred seconds in cat seconds, it is.

And that's a whole lot of seconds, my friends.

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Plus, I've noticed, the longer the peeps are cooped up at home, the weirder and crazier they get.

Now to be honest, my peeps were always weird.  ESPECIALLY Peep #1, aka Peepers.  I mean, weird is like her middle name, you know?

Of course you do.

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Why just the other day...

Just the other day, I saw Peepers...

Nope, she was bein' TOO weird even for me to repeat what she was doin'.

But the thing is, as weird as her behaviour was, it was so mild compared to her weirdness as of late, I thought what she was doin' was normal!

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But glory be to God, MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED, and as of Friday, some restrictions have been lifted here in Nova Scotia.  Peeps can now go out a little bit more and when they do, they can even go a tad further afield.  I'm hopin' this is my chance to get rid of the peeps for like...

FOR LIKE A WHOLE, ENTIRE DAY.

Okay, so maybe not a WHOLE day, on account of a kitty needin' to have meals served at regular times and whatnot, but uh...  But maybe longer than it takes for the weekly grocery store run?  Maybe longer than it takes to walk once around the block?  Maybe longer than it takes for me to realize Peepers is out so that I can fully take advantage of her not bein' in my PURRsonal space and...

Maybe I can get rid of her for two or three hours.

And if I'm REALLY lucky, four.

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And speakin' of bein' lucky...

I, Seville the Cat, am a super lucky cat, and do you know why?

Well I'll tell you why, I will.

Even though I've had the peeps under paw for what feels like forever, in the last few weeks, I've managed to find a couple hidin' spots in the house where I can hide from said peeps.  You know, so I can have my own space and get 'em out of my fur.

Now I'd tell you all about those hidin' spots I've found, here, but uh...

But the peep reads my blog, you see, and um...

Well...

Well I don't want Peepers to know where my hidin' spots are, 'cause a hidin' spot that is no longer hidden, is not a hidin' spot at all.

Words of wisdom, those are.

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Suffice it to say, if you happen to hear Peepers frantically callin' my name at all hours of the night and day, I'm not lost or anythin' like that.  I'm hidden.  Hidden in one of my newly found spots for hiding.

And Peepers has no idea where.

AND I'M NOT COMIN' OUT 'TIL I'M GOOD AN' READY.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!