HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Happy Birthday to me.  Happy Birthday to me.  Happy Birthday Dear Sivvers....  Happy Birthday to...

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

Au contraire ma peep.  It is too my birthday.  Yup, today is most definitely my birthday, for sure.

MOUSES!

Because.

Because is too an answer.  You asked a question and I answered it...

...WITH BECAUSE.

Ipso facto, methinks your stupid claim is defuncto.

MOUSES!

What do you mean I'm not makin' sense?  What do you mean?

Oh pish posh, Peepers.  Pish posh.  I shall explain.

And for anyone at the back of the room, the followin' is what we cats mean when we say we have to catsplain everythin'.

MOUSES!

Peepers, what's yours is mine and what's mine is...  Not yours.  Therefore, what's yours is mine and what's mine is mine.  Are you with me so far?

Good.  So yes, today may in fact be your birthday.  And by that I simply mean that on this date, several millennia ago - give or take a century or two - you were born.  Your birth certificate probably does say something 'bout your bein' born on this date.

Still with me, ol' peep of mine?

Good.  Okay, so now remember what I said before: What's yours is mine.  Mine.  Mine as in...  MINE.

So what WAS your birthday is now mine.

Got it?

Good.  So ipso facto, your birthday is now MY birthday; and therefore everyone should join me, Seville the Cat, in singin' a birthday song to me.  ME.  Me.

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

Oh yeah.  I do say that quite often, don't I.  I do often say things along the line of your singin' bein' more like caterwaulin' than actual singin'.  Hmmm...

Okay, so we'll try this: I'll sing Happy Birthday to myself with my ever-so-melodious voice and while I'm doin' so, you can help me open my prezzies.

They are mine, Peepers.  The prezzies are mine.  I thought we already went over all this.

My gosh, a cat's catsplainin' is never done.

Peepers, the prezzies are mine.  ALL mine.  MINE.  Doesn't matter if your name happens to be on some of 'em.  Remember, what's yours is mine so therefore....   They're all mine.

'Course, if any of 'em happen to be bottles of stinky stuff or boxes of chockies, you can have those.  You know, on account of my not likin' that kinda stuff.  BUT THE REST OF 'EM ARE ALL MINE.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PEEPERS SIVVERS!

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

dig it and they will come

Build it and they will come.

I think that's what they said.

Well it was somethin' like that, for sure.  Of course, they weren't talking 'bout Peepers.  Nope, they weren't talking 'bout anythin' Peepers built, for sure.

'Less, of course, they were talking 'bout rescuers comin' to rescue whomever was trapped in whatever the peep built, 'CAUSE ANYTHIN' PEEPERS BUILDS is bound to be a disaster waitin' to happen, for sure. 

Woman doesn't know a screw from a nail.

MOUSES!

Now, I wonder if anyone has ever said the followin': dig it and they will come.

Anyone know?

MOUSES!

Turns out, someone does know.  I know.  Yup, I know the answer, for sure.  Of course, I know the answer to lots of questions and things.  Pretty much practically EVERYTHIN'.

And if I don't know, I just make it up.

MOUSES!

And by the way, the answer is yes.  Yes, someone has said, dig it and they will come.  In fact, I said it earlier today.  Said it yesterday, too.  And do you know somethin' else, my friends?  Do you?

IT'S TRUE!  Yup, the sayin' is absolutely, one hundred and fifty-three percent true.

Give or take a percentage point, or two.

MOUSES!

So on account of my sayin' the sayin' and bein' correct about it and all, Peepers now has an eight foot long mini-greenhouse frame sittin' in her flower bed, two packages of aluminium foil plates - made from recycled aluminium, of course, 'cause Peepers loves the planet and everythin'  - in the kitchen waitin' to be used, a big ol' pile of twigs and things next to the garden bed with the mini-greenhouse frame, and she is currently pickin' hot chilli peppers she plans to chop up later and scatter all over said bed.  And then...

Pardon me?  Pardon?  Why is she doin' all that, you ask?

Well...

Well on account of my bein' right, of course.

Like I always am.

MOUSES!

Dig it, and they will come, I said.  Yup, dig it and they will come.  A peep digs a garden bed up, exposin' nice soil, gettin' the bed ready for some fall plantin', and...

AND THEY COME.

I'm tellin' ya, ol' Noah was never in it.

MOUSES!

Who are they, you ask?

Well...

Well allow me to elaborate, my friends.  The eight foot long mini-greenhouse frame is to stop the deer from tramplin' the plants Peepers is plantin', like they did to Peepers' icelandic poppies last year.  Then she's gonna hang those pie plates from the top of the frame to discourage 'em from reachin' in and eatin' the plants like they ate all but three of her roses this year.  And once the plants are in the ground, she's gonna stick twigs and things in between all the rows before scatterin' those chopped up chilli peppers on the soil to discourage the raccoons from diggin' everythin' up, like they've been doin' ALL year, even now, before anythin' has been planted.

'CAUSE LIKE I SAID...

DIG IT AND THEY WILL COME.

MOUSES!

Excuse me?  Didn't quite catch what you said.

No...  No.  Nope, none of these measures are on account of Saffy and me.

We've already had our fill of diggin' up Peepers' plantings, you see.  Why, we've been diggin' up her stuff all summer long and are gettin' a tad bored with the whole thing.

Plus, compost is awfully hard to get out from under one's claws.

So Saffy and me...  We made a deal.  Yup, we made a deal with the peep.

Deal...  Accepted a bribe...  Whatever.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

where did I go wrong?

Now as some of you may already know, I, Seville the Cat, am not really a cuddle-up-with-the-peeps-in-bed kinda guy.  Never have been, never will be.

MOUSES!

But Saffy, on the other paw...

Well when my brother first came to live inside with us, Saffy Saffron Sassifras felt the same way as I.  Yup, I taught my new brother the rules and Saffy agreed: if a peep puts you on a bed, the first thing you do is jump right back down to the floor.

MOUSES!

But as of late...

Well as of late, Saffy Saffron Sassifras has decided he LIKES sleepin' on beds.

With peeps.

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?

MOUSES!

Where did I go wrong?

Yup, it's true.  Saffy Saffron Sassifras actually LIKES sleepin' on beds - WITH peeps - nowadays.  Actually LIKES it, he says.  Likes as in...

Well...

Likes.

Again, can you believe it?

MOUSES!

Oh where-oh-where DID I go wrong?

And he doesn't sleep just any-ol'-where on the bed.  Nope, not just anywhere, at all.  Saffy Saffron Sassifras likes to sleep right in the middle.  Right smack down in the middle of the bed, he does.  And then he likes to stretch out.  Stretch way out.  Way, way, waaaay out.  Yup, he likes to stretch way out so his front paws are reachin' for one side of the bed, and his tail for the other, and...

Well...

Well let me put it this way:  last night, Saffron was in bed before Peepers with the result that Peepers had to sleep on the very edge of the bed, and...

And...

And the darned peep nearly fell out!

Of the bed, that is.

'Cause in THIS house, one never moves a cat outta their way.

MOUSES!

Methinks Peepers might need an inflatable mattress or somethin' like that.

You know, so if Saffy gets the best part of the bed first, Peepers doesn't have to sleep on the floor.

Well she still might, of course.  She still might have to sleep on the floor, that is.

'Cause remember, in THIS house, one never moves a cat outta their way.

Not ever.

But at least with an inflatable mattress, she'll be comfy on that there ol' floor.

Sorta.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

Lee

AND DON'T BOTHER COMIN' BACK, EITHER!

MOUSES!

Well I sure am glad that's over and done with.  Sure am glad to see the back of him.

MOUSES!

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

Yellin'?  I have no idea.  I didn't hear anyone yellin', at all.  Probably couldn't hear whomever it was on account of my raisin' my voice...

Oh.

Right.

Yeah, that was probably me.

MOUSES!

Well I HAD to yell at him, Peepers.  I had to give him a right tellin' off.  Had to make him understand I didn't want him ever comin' back here.  Not anywhere near my house.  Had to make him understand that I, Seville the Cat, meant some serious business, you see, WHICH IS WHY I had to yell.

Who?  At whom was I yellini'?

Lee.

MOUSES!

'Cause I don't like storms in general, Peepers.  And I especially don't like storms named Lee.

Okay, so truth be told, I don't like any storms, no matter what their names.  And I especially don't hurricanes.  Don't like post tropical cyclones, either.  AND I DON'T want 'em comin' anywhere near my house.

Good for nothin' unwanted guests, they are.

MOUSES!

AND I DON'T...

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

Well OF COURSE Lee has left.  I yelled at him, remember?  Told him to leave.  Remember?  Remember how you heard me yellin'?

Good grief, Peepers, your memory resembles a sieve.

MOUSES!

AND WHAT'S MORE...

OF COURSE Lee left on account of my yellin' at him.  Why else would he leave?

'Cause that's what hurricanes do, you say?  They come, wreck havoc, then leave?

Hmmm...

Nope, I'm pretty sure they leave 'cause cats like me are on the ball.  'Cause of cats like me yellin' at 'em, TELLING 'EM to leave.  Why, if it weren't for cats like me...

There'd be a whole lot less yellin' around here, you say?

Perhaps, but let's face it, Peepers: you'd miss not hearin' me yellin', for sure.  And you know what else you'd miss, ol' peep of mine?  You know what else?

Why, you'd miss my not doin' you the favour of my gatherin' intel out in the yard for you, you would.  And gatherin' garden intel is exactly what I did earlier today.  For your information, there is no structural damage.  No major damage in our yard, at all.  Nip plants are holdin' steady, for sure.  However, there are a whole whack of twigs with leaves and things lyin' about all over the ground.  Little stuff that needs cleanin' up.  Shouldn't take you more than a day.

Well I'M not cleanin' it up.  I've got far better things to do with my time.

LIKE TAKIN' A NAP, is what.

All that yellin' is exhaustin', for sure.

Not to mention all the catsplainin' I had to do.

Catsplainin'.  You know what it is, Peepers.  Or at least you should.  Catsplainin' is when cats like me have to explain even the simplest of things to peeps like you.

It's not like I haven't had to do it many a time, before.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

heads-up

Hey Peepers!  Just givin' you a heads-up: you've got a bunch of stuff lyin' on the floor in your closet.

MOUSES!

And FYI, it has NOTHIN' to do with me.

I don't think.

MOUSES!

No.  No...  No, definitely not me.  I had absolutely nothin' to do with all the stuff lyin' on the floor in your closet.  Nothin' at all.  Nothin' in the least.  Nothin', as in...

Well...

Nothin'.

MOUSES!

Okay, so I MIGHT have had a wee little somethin' to do with it.

Not my fault Saffy took my advice.

MOUSES!

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

You wanna know what advice I gave Saffy?

Well...

Nothin'.  Nothin' at all.  Nothin' as in nothin', I say.  NOTHIN'!  I gave Saffy absolutely no advice.

Least not on purpose, that is.

MOUSES!

Okay, so I MIGHT have mentioned to Saffy how if you pile up a whole whack of clothes on the floor, said pile makes an excellent and extremely comfy spot for nappin'.

A fact I know from personal experience, you see.

But not this time.  I, Seville the Cat, had nothin' to do with that comfy pile of clothes lyin' on the floor at the back of your closet.  Nothin' at all!

Well just check the colour of the fur stuck to all those clothes, Peepers.  You won't find a single gorgeous marmalade hair on 'em.  Not a single marmalade hair!  All the fur stuck to those clothes is dark charcoal grey.  Coincidentally, the same colour as my brother Saffron.

MOUSES!

Oh, and I forgot to mention, Peepers.  Another heads-up: you've got a bunch of tops and pants and other items of clothin' at the back of your closet, all covered in fur.

You might wanna do somethin' about that.

You know, BEFORE you put 'em on to wear.

'CAUSE EVERYONE KNOWS cat hair sticks to clothin' like the dickens.  It's super hard to get off.

Again, I speak from personal experience.

But again, NOT THIS TIME.  This time, that fur is all Saffy's doin'.  None of it is mine.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

give me a cup of tea, please

I'll have one, too, Peepers.

I said, I'll have one, too.

Oh for mousin' out loud.  Just give me a cup of tea, already.

Wait!

If you would be so kind, please make mine with extra milk.  Actually, cream would be better.  And why don't you skip the hot water.  You can skip the teabag, too.  And in case you were wonderin', I really don't need that ol' cup.  Just pour some cream in my saucer.

Please.

MOUSES!

Well now that that's taken care of, you can be off.  Off to do whatever you peeps like to do, nowadays.  I, myself, have important things on the agenda.  Important things I'd like to do without havin' you hoverin' over my shoulder.

Important things like writin' my blog.

MOUSES!

Good, she's gone.  Gone off to do whatever peeps do.

So the other day, my friends, I caught Peepers readin' a few of my blog posts.  She was readin' some really good ones, too.  Some of my best!  Some of the funniest blog posts I ever did write.

Thing is though, she wasn't laughin'.

And I really don't know why.

MOUSES!

Now I SAY I don't know why - why she wasn't laughin', I mean - but really, I do.  At least I think I do.  I THINK I might know why the peep didn't find those blog posts the least bit funny.

The thing is...

The thing is...

The thing is, some peeps find it hard to laugh at themselves.  

Fact.

MOUSES!

It's true!  Peeps get all uppity when a cat publicly makes fun of 'em, and let's face it, my friends: my whole blog is all about makin' fun of my peeps.

But you know what I say?

I say, if you don't want me to write about and make fun of all the stupid things you do, don't do all those stupid things in the first place.

MOUSES!

But for some strange reason, Peepers doesn't agree.

OH SURE, she has no issues with makin' fun of the stupid things I do.

Well, she would have no issues makin' fun of the stupid things I do IF I did stupid things.

Which I don't.

So there.

MOUSES!

Besides, EVERYONE KNOWS one should never make fun of or laugh at a cat.  If there's one thing we cats hate, it's bein' laughed at.  There are a few other things, too, but bein' laughed at is right at the top of the list.  Nothin' worse a peep can do than laugh at a cat.  We cats are dignified creatures, you see, and as such, we absolutely HATE bein' laughed at.

Fact.

MOUSES!

Why just the other day...

Just the other day, I was gettin' some chin scritches and stuff - and thoroughly enjoyin' the attention - when I happened to forget just how close I was to the edge of the bed, and...

Well...

Well long story short, I almost fell off.

And I caught that peep of mine.  I caught that smirk formin' on her face.  I was SURE she was about to let out a loud laugh.

So I grabbed onto her leg with my two front paws - not to mention those paws' claws - and held on tight.  That's right, I sunk my claws into her leg and pulled myself back up onto the bed, and...

Well to make ANOTHER long story short, her laugh turned into a bit of a scream.

Well more like cry, really.

Yeah, the ol' cry of pain one hears when claws sink into a leg.

That'll teach her to laugh at a cat.

MOUSES!

But remember, the reverse situation where I, Seville the Cat, make fun of a peep is perfectly fine.  Perfectly acceptable, for sure.  In all honesty, it's really..

Well actually...

Well it's just the way things are supposed to be done!

Which is why, after sendin' the peep off to do whatever she's doin' right now, I'm feelin' free to write today's blog post 'bout her doin' a whole bunch of stupid ol' things.  Yup, I now have the privacy to write my blog post all about her stupidity, in peace.  To write it without havin' her hoverin' over my shoulder and stuff, correctin' what I write, and complainin' that I'm makin' her look silly or stupid or...

Well...

Bad.

Not my fault she does stupid things.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

dear diary

Dear Diary...

Hmmm...

DEAR Diary...

Hmmm...

My Dearest Diary...

Hmmm...

Nope, still nothin'.  Still nothin' at all.

MOUSES!

HEY PEEPERS!  What kinda things do you write in your diary?

Nothin'?  You don't write in your diary, you say?

Yeah, I feel your pain, ol' peep of mine.  I'm havin' the same problem here.  I can't seem to find anythin' to write.

Dear Diary...

Nope, nothin' has changed.

MOUSES!

So Peepers, how come you don't use your diary?  You have writer's diary block, too?

Or should that be diary writer's block?

Hmmm...

Really?  You don't have a diary to use?  Interestin'.

Hmmm...

Okay Peepers, let's say you did have a diary.  Now if you had a diary, what would you write?  What kinda stuff?  Anythin' I could happen to use?

You'd probably use it to write lists?

What kinda lists, Peepers?  Interestin' lists?  Lists cats and other peeps might wanna read?

The grocery list?  A "to do" list, you say?  A list of what you planted where and when, so that when stuff starts growin' in the garden, you know what said stuff is?

WHAT KINDA STUPID LISTS ARE THOSE?

Oh yeah.  Peep lists.

MOUSES!

Peepers, you are of absolutely NO help, at all.

MOUSES!

Dear Diary...

Oh, who am I kiddin'?  I'm not into this diary writin' business.  I've nothin' interestin' to write about, you see.  Nothin' at all! 

And I'm really not convinced it's supposed to be used to write stupid lists.

I'll be lucky if I can...

WAIT A MINUTE....

HEY PEEPERS!  YOU THINK IT'S OKAY TO WRITE A PURELY FICTIONAL DIARY?  DOES A FICTIONAL DIARY, STILL A DIARY MAKE?

You don't think so, huh?

Hmmm...

But what do you know, Peepers?  You don't even HAVE a diary.  You have not one whit of diary writin' experience.  You don't even know what a diary is.

No, you surely don't.  'Cause let me tell you somethin', ol' peep of mine: I am one hundred thousand kajillion percent sure, diaries are NOT supposed to be used for writin' lists.

MOUSES!

Dear Diary.  Today I, Seville the Cat, woke up to a call from the Prime Minister's Office concernin' a phone call the PM had from King Charles, requestin' my assistance with...

Oh my mouses, now THIS is the kinda diary entry, cats like me should make.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

public service announcement

The followin' is a public service announcement, paid for by...

By uh...

Hmmm...

Hey Peepers!  You willin' to toss a few toonies my way to pay for this here pubic service announcement, I'm makin'?

No?

Hmph.

MOUSES!

Well how 'bout one tooney, then?

A looney?

Maybe a quarter or two?

Still no?  Still?

Well then, uh...

I know!  A few treats.  I'm sure you can spare a few treats.  Bonus treats, we'll call 'em

What do you MEAN you just gave me treats?  What do you MEAN?

Oh yeah.

MOUSES!

Er-hmm.  The followin' is a public service announcement.  APPARENTLY, it's totally free.

Paid for by no one but me.

MOUSES!

And now for the announcement:  Okay kitties out there.  Kitties and doggies and ferrets and anyone else to whom this might pertain.  Do you have a fan page on Facebook?  You do?  Well if so, please be aware there are scammers out to get us four-legged social media stars.  Scammers like the "Restricted Account Information" and the "Business Account Maintenance Standards" pages.  These are NOT real pages, my friends.  They're fake.  Fake as fake can be.  Fake as the diamonds on a burlesque dancer's short dress.

NEVER MIND HOW I KNOW 'BOUT BURLESQUE DANCERS' ATTIRE.

MOUSES!

But back to the business at paw.  These SCAMMERS are taggin' hundreds of pages, pretendin' to represent Facebook and/or META security and whatnot.  They tag you in a post and say that if you don't click on the link they provide within 24 hours or five days or the like, you'll lose all access to your fan page.

Whatever you do, DO NOT CLICK.

Now I don't actually know what will happen if you do click on their links 'cause I never have, but rest assured, IT'S GONNA BE BAD.

MOUSES!

Instead of clickin' on their links, report 'em and block 'em.   Report and block.  REPORT and BLOCK.  That's the best thing to do.  

Report 'em!

BLOCK 'EM!

Do what I say AND do what I do.

MOUSES!

This mornin', I awoke to a notification from one of these scammers who had tagged my fan page.  Another notification.  The THIRD one in less than three weeks!  And I'm sick and tired of this nonsense.  Sick and tired, to be sure.

So remember, my pals, if your fan page gets tagged by one of these scammers, you know what to do: REPORT 'em and BLOCK 'em and if you happen to find their actual address...

Well...

Well used kitty litter makes a wonderful gift.

Really WELL used kitty litter, that is.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.