I'm back!

Okay, so I wasn't actually gone.

I just took a day off, you see.

You know, on account of my regular postin' day bein' on Christmas, this year.

MOUSES!

Truth be told, I was plannin' on postin' the very next day instead of waiting until now, but...

But the thing is...

The thing is, the day after Christmas was Boxing Day, and...

Well...

Well Boxin' Day is important, too.

Boxing Day: the day of the box.

Did I happen to mention it involves boxes?

MOUSES!

But back to the business at paw.  I hope everyone had a great Christmas.  Everyone who celebrates Christmas, of course.  And for anyone who doesn't, I hope you had a good day, too.

And as for the ol' Boxing Day...

WHO THE MOUSES DOESN'T CELEBRATE THAT?

Again, did I happen to mention it involves boxes?

MOUSES!

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

WHAT?

Oh, for the love of mouses.

So apparently, accordin' to Peepers (if she is to be believed), Boxing Day ISN'T celebrated by EVERYONE, all around the world.  Really only in the UK, and a number of Commonwealth nations, such as Canada.

But it most definitely does involve the givin' of boxes to cats.

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

THE LEAST YOU CAN DO IS GIVE US CATS THE BOXES.

MOUSES!

So apparently, accordin' to Peepers (although I really don't think she is to be believed), the origins of Boxin' Day do not revolve around the givin' of boxes to cats.

Proof positive that Peepers is definitely NOT to be believed.

MOUSES!

But all that nonsense Peepers is spoutin' aside, Saffron and I spent most of Boxin' Day, this year, hangin' out in some really lovely boxes.

AS ANY SELF-RESPECTIN' CANADIAN KITTY WOULD.

MOUSES!

And word of warnin', as this comin' Wednesday is New Year's Day, I'll be takin' the day off then, as well.  First day of the year is a very important day for us kitties, you see.  It's the day when we start the year as we mean to go on, which involves assertin' ourselves as the true rulers of the world, and...

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

FINE.

Peepers says the best I can do is assert myself as the true ruler of my own kingdom: my house.

PEEPERS,THE LEAST YOU CAN DO IS GIVE ME ABSOLUTE CONTROL OF MY OWN HOUSE!

And as you can see, I'm gonna be pretty darned busy New Year's Day, catsplaining the way of the world to my peeps.

MOUSES!

And don't forget to spend some time on New Year's Eve or New Year's Day readin' about my adventure, way back when, when Nissy and I were summoned to London, England, to save the brinin' in of the New Year.  You can read all 'bout it in "Like Clockwork" by clickin' right here:  HERE

And in case we don't chat between now and January 1st...

May you all have a joyful and prosperous 2025.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

whew

Well that wasn't fun.

Okay, so actually it was.

MOUSES!

But BUSY, I tell you.  Busy!  Busy, busy, busy, for sure.  THERE WAS SO MUCH TO DO!

But we got 'er all done.

Whew.

MOUSES!

So first there was Christmas Eve.  Saffy fell asleep on the job.

Of course.

He was SUPPOSED to stay up, waitin' for Santa.  He was SUPPOSED to take the first shift.

He was NOT supposed to fall asleep under said tree, only to wake up and find Santa had already been.

MOUSES!

Then came Christmas mornin'.  Tree ornaments to whack about.  Ribbons to shred.  Wrappin' paper to lie on and crush.

You know, those sorta things.

We were goin' full tilt for a while, Saffy and I.  Once the nip in the biff bags kicked in, mayhem ensued.

Saffron tried his best to get into the box his biff bags came in.  "If I fits, I sits!" he yelled out loud.

"But you DON'T fit, Saffron, my man.  That there box is way too small for sittin'," I replied.

"Then I'll wear it as a hat," is what he then said.

And did.

MOUSES!

Christmas Day afternoon and evenin' are kind of a blur.  There was nappin' and snackin',  and MORE nappin' goin' on.  I kinda remember Peepers walkin' about wearin' a lampshade like a hat, and...

No.  Wait.  That was Saffron, I think.  Saffron with a gift box stuck on his head.

Did I mention 'bout how we cats were thoroughly nipped?

MOUSES!

So that was Christmas.  Next came Boxin' Day.

Now BOXIN' Day is the day to wear a box on your head.

MOUSES!

Peepers left a couple big boxes intact just for us, and...

Well most of the day was spent restin'.  Restin' in boxes and recoverin' from nip, and...

Oh, who am I kiddin'?  Saffy and me?  WE WERE BOTH STILL WELL NIPPED.

To tell you the truth, we still are.

My gosh that nip was good stuff.

Santa really did well.

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.

day of the box

Today is special, my friends.  Today is a very special day, for sure, for today is the DAY OF THE BOX.

IT'S BOXING DAY, today!

purrs

Yeah, yeah, I know.  It's also ninety-three weeks.

MOUSES!

So sure, I've spent the last five hundred and six million, two hundred and seventeen thousand, six hundred cats seconds of this ol' pandemic thingy cooped up with the peeps, but do you know what?

YOU KNOW WHAT?

YOU KNOW WHAT?

Today is the day when I'm not gonna let that bother me.  Nope, I'm not gonna let that bother me one bit, FOR TODAY IS THE DAY when I shall spend all seven hundred and seventy-seven thousand, six hundred cat seconds of the day, SITTIN' in a BOX.

WHERE ELSE WOULD ONE RATHER BE?

Nowhere, for sure.

MOUSES!

Now I know some peeps out there might be thinkin' that Boxin' Day has other meanings, but you know somethin', my friends?

THEY WOULD BE WRONG.

MOUSES!

'Cause when it comes to boxes, us cats know what's right and what's wrong.  SO WHEN IT COMES TO BOXIN' DAY, us cats know what's right about that, too!

And by extension, also what's wrong.

MOUSES!

Although technically, when you really think about the situation clearly, us cats know what's best about EVERYTHING, 'cause you know...

We're cats.

MOUSES!

Not our fault we cats are smarter than peeps.

MOUSES!

So today is the day when all cats need to grab a handy box and...

Well...

Well jump right in it, my friends!

Scratch that.  First, before you jump into your box, you should really inspect it bit, makin' sure it's clean and pristine.

You know, that sorta thing.

Nothin' worse than jumpin' into a dirty box, my friends.  Nothin' worse!

Scratch that.  NOT HAVIN' a box into which you can jump is actually worse than jumpin' into a dirty one but nevertheless, no one wants to have to have a bath on account of gettin' all dirtied up 'cause some stupid peep filled your Boxin' Day Box with dirt and stuff.  When a cat jumps into a box, havin' a bath is not the first thing a cat wants to do!

No sirree, first thing a cat wants to do after jumpin' into his or her Boxin' Day Box is have a nap.

FACT.

I know this from personal experience, I do.

Plus, I watched a documentary 'bout it on TV.

Or was that merely a Boxing Day dream...

Cats have those, you know.  Boxin' Day dreams, I mean.  We dream about boxes a lot.

FACT.

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.

the day of the box

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!

Scratch that.  Christmas was yesterday.  It's kinda all over now.

Hmmm...

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY!

Scratch that, too.  It's too early for New Years.  That's not 'til next week.

Hmmm...

I know!

HAPPY BOXING DAY, MY FRIENDS.  May the power of the boxes be with you.

That's more like it.

MOUSES!

In case you hadn't heard, today is Boxin' Day, a day when Canadian kitties, from coast to coast to coast, celebrate boxes.

FYI, it is not a day for boxin' fur-sibs about the ears.

Apparently.

At least that's what I've been told.

Twice already, this mornin'.

MOUSES!

But anyway...

But anyway, as luck would have it, after the Christmas festivities were over yesterday, we were left with some really good sized boxes in the livin' room.  As a matter of fact, we were left with four good sized boxes, which, AS I WAS TOLD THIS MORNIN', TWICE, means that since there's a box for each one of us cats to use, there's no need for any of us to be boxin' our fur-sibs about the ears.

But in all fairness, the box Mason was in was the box I wanted.

You know what they say...

LOCATION. LOCATION. LOCATION.

MOUSES!

And it's not like Mason didn't box my ears right back.

TWICE.

MOUSES!

But do you hear the peeps complaining 'bout that?

OH NO...  APPARENTLY, retaliatory ear boxin' is PURRFECTLY acceptable 'round here.

Well not so much acceptable as uh...

Um...

Allowed.

Well actually, not so much allowed as uh...

Um...

Recognised as the inevitable, I suppose.

But retaliatory ear boxin' on account of other retaliatory ear boxin'?

Yeah, the peeps didn't go for that either.

MOUSES!

Of course, I pled not guilty on account of my bein' nipped at the time.

Of course, I'm plannin' on bein' nipped all this week, on account of Santa bringin' me the mother load of nip toys yesterday, so...

So...

So Mason might wanna wear somethin' on her head to protect her once again soon-to-be-boxed ears.

MOUSES!

the mornin' after

Oh my mouses.

OH MY MOUSES.

OH MY MOUSIE MOUSIN' MOUSES!

Ooohh...  my head.

MOUSES!

You're probably wonderin' what on Earth is the matter.  What on Earth is makin' me feel the way I feel.  Let me put it this way: Santa brought nip.

MOUSES!

Yup, he brought nip mice all right.

MOUSES!

Christmas mornin', I woke up and found myself up to my whiskers in the nip.  Up to my whiskers in nip mice, for sure.

But don't get me wrong!  I'm not complainin'.  Fact is, nip mice up to my whiskers is exactly what I was wantin' for Christmas, but still...

Well, maybe - JUST MAYBE - I might have overdone the nip.

NOT THAT A CAT CAN HAVE TOO MUCH NIP!

But still...  Well, maybe - JUST MAYBE - a cat can feel the effect of havin' too much nip.  And I'M FEELIN' THE EFFECT, for sure.

MOUSES!

What I need to do, is learn how to go easy on the nip.

BUT WE ALL KNOW THAT'S NEVER GONNA HAPPEN.

MOUSES!

Ooohh...  my head.

MOUSES!

Now you're probably sittin' there, sayin' to yourself, But Sivvers, Christmas Day was two days ago.  You haven't recovered from havin' too much nip, in two whole days?

Well firstly, I'd like to point out once again, a cat can really never have too much of the nip.  I just need to set that record straight, especially if Santa is readin' this here blog.  I don't want him thinkin' that next year he shouldn't be bringin' me nip.

And secondly, I'd like to point out that yesterday was Boxing Day.

What does Boxin' Day have to do with my havin' had too much nip, you ask?

Good question!  The answer is as follows.  You see, at our house, Boxing Day is always celebrated with boxes.  That's right, it's a day meant to be spent by hangin' out in any and all boxes that happen to be lying around the house.  And THE BEST WAY to enjoy a good box, is to spend time in said box while gettin' nipped.  Scratch that.  THE BEST WAY to enjoy a good box, is to spend time in said box while gettin' more nipped, on account of the fact that when Boxin' Day rolls around the day after Christmas, a cat like me is likely to be ALREADY somewhat...  Well...  Nipped.

MOUSES!

So long story short, I got nipped on Christmas Day, and continued nippin' right through 'til Boxin' Day evenin', and now, on December 27th...

Well...

Well that makes today, the mornin' after.

MOUSES!

And it's not like I'm the only nipped cat in the house.  Mason and Andy and Rushy and Toby?  Well they're all pretty nipped, too.

The peeps however, appear to be immune to the nip and that, my friends, is a good thing, 'cause let me tell you somethin'.

WE CATS AREN'T PREPARED TO BE SHARIN' OUR NIP.

MOUSES!

Oohhh...  my head.

I have GOT to stop talkin' so loudly.  My head is way too nipped for such loud talkin'.  Two days of nippin' and...

And...

And uh...

Hmmm...

IT'S TIME, METHINKS, TO GO GET MYSELF SOME MORE NIP.

MOUSES!

Boxing Day rush

Can't stop now.  GOTTA RUN.  MOUSES!

Whew!  That was a close one, for sure.

Let me catch my breath.

Okay...

Okay, I bet you're all wonderin' what has my tail all twisted up in a dither.  Well the thing is... The thing is...  Well...

Well it all began the other day.

The other day, I happened to notice Peep #1's Facebook status.  "Livin' room looks like the aftermath of a catnip toy factory explosion," or somethin' like that.  I didn't think too much about it at the time because, truth be told, it did.  I figured the peep was just - you know - makin' a public service announcement of some sort.

But then that night, I was watchin' television, and I heard the TV peeps talkin' about Boxin' Day Blowouts and the like.  I assumed they were talkin' about the sales after Christmas but...  But... But combined with the peep talking 'bout catnip toy factory explosions...  Well...  Well...

Well my mind got to thinkin', and when I start thinkin', I start...

No, I do not start smokin' at the ears.

When I start thinkin', I start connectin' the dots.

NO.  Not the red dots.  The elusive red dot is far too elusive to be connected to anythin'. MOUSES!

But back to those other dots.

My mind was a whirlin' like the peep with a Cat Teaser toy, after her fourth cup of coffee.

Talk of a catnip toy factory explosion led to explosions, which led to blowouts, which led to Boxin' Day blowouts which, of course, led to Boxin' Day, which led to BOXES.

NOW I bet you're gettin' the picture, for sure.

And then if that wasn't bad enough, I heard the peep say somethin' about cleanin' up the mess in the livin' room.

Well I got to thinkin' once more.  Had any of us cats tossed our cookies in the livin' room since Christmas Day?  Not that we actually ate any cookies to toss, but even so, we are not immune to tossing 'em without eating 'em, if you know what I mean.

But as the answer to the cookie tossin' question was no, I had to ask myself if any of us kitties had made any other messes in there.  Had any of us pooped or peed where poopin' and peein' is not to be done?

Again, the answer was no.

So what the mouses was the peep talkin' about when she said mess?

And then...  And then...  And then...

And then it hit me like a tonne of bricks.

Ouch!

PEEP #1 WAS PLANNIN' ON CLEANIN' UP ALL OF OUR TOYS.  MOUSES!

But deep down, I knew that wasn't the case, because those toys are ours and no one - I repeat, NO ONE - can clean 'em up on account of their not bein' dirty.

But what if...  What if... What if...

What if she was gonna clean up all the other stuff?  You know, like the tissue paper and worse than that...

THE BOXES???

MOUSES!!!

So that, my friends, is the reason for my bein' so out of breath.  I've been runnin' around, rescuing boxes from Peep #1.  Rescuing 'em before the peep can get at 'em with the box cutter, and bag 'em all up for recycling.

Not that I consider recyclin' to be a bad thing.  I don't! As a responsible citizen of this world, I consider recycling to be absolutely necessary.

AS LONG AS THEY'RE NOT RECYCLIN' MY BOXES.  MOUSES!

So anyway, I don't know 'bout you, but my post Boxin' Day rush has been a real doozie, for sure.

What's that, Mason?  I missed a box?  And the peep has spotted it?  And she has the box cutter in her paws?

Excuse me, my friends.  It appears that my post Boxin' Day rush is not yet over.  MOUSES!