Canada Day weekend

I almost didn't get to blog today, my friends.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin' I was probably havin' Internet problems and stuff.

Well...

Well I was.  And to be perfectly honest, I did almost give up.  But I kept perseverin' and I finally got on.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin' if my almost not gettin' to blog today wasn't on account of my Internet issues, it was probably on account of my bein' hung over from imbibin' in the nip yesterday, celebratin' Canada Day.

Well...

Well that could be true.  Kinda.  I mean, I did imbibe in a lot of catnip yesterday, celebratin' the birthday of our great nation and all, but...

But...

BUT TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH, I STILL AM!  

Imbibin', that is.

And I don't think the hangover bit starts 'til after you stop sniffin' the nip; and I'm plannin' on celebratin' Canada Day All. Weekend. Long.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin' that if my almost not getttin' to blog today wasn't on account of my lousy Internet connection or a catnip hangover, you can't possibly be expected to think of any other reason, 'cept perhaps sheer laziness or somethin' like that.

Sheer laziness of PEEPERS, that is.

MOUSES!

Well...

Well Peepers can be a little sloth-like, for sure.

You should see the state of the lawn.

But Peepers' sloth-like qualities are NOT the reason for my almost not bloggin' today.  My reason does, however, have somethin' to do with the peep.

Are you ready?

You had better sit down.

So what happened is this: Early this mornin', I decided to give the ol' garden a tour.  With a sprig of catnip hangin' outta the corner of my mouth - I was chewin' on it, you see - I headed out back to check on Peepers' peppers and flowery stuff and garden type things.  Well!  Well I rounded the corner and the first thing I saw was the bed where she's growin' her tomatoes.

Now NORMALLY tomato plants wouldn't be of interest to me.  After all, I'm a cat and we cats don't like tomatoey things.  Fact.

But what I saw in that bed of tomatoes was astoundin', for sure.  I don't know what the mouses she's feedin' those plants but I swear they're all at least a good five feet tall.  They're TOWERIN' outta the ground.  LITERALLY!  They're so tall...

They're so tall I can barely see the tops of 'em.

Most of 'em are taller than Peepers, for sure!

And the thing is...

The thing is, this is only the second of July.  And they still have another three months to grow taller!

Now these mutant tomato plants belongin' to Peepers have me worried for two very good reasons.  Firstly, I have concerns 'bout those darned vines takin' over the whole garden and usin' up space better used for the growin' of nip.

And secondly...

Well secondly, I don't know 'bout you, but I'VE read the accounts of ol' Jack and that beanstalk and let me tell you somethin', my friends:  NO CAT, NO WHERE, HAS EVER WANTED A BIG OL' GIANT FALLIN' DOWN FROM A GIGANTIC TOMATO PLANT, THEN WANDERIN' AROUND IN HIS GARDEN, and POSSIBLY CRUSHIN' HIS CATNIP PLANTS THAT HE HAS BEEN GROWIN' WITH TENDER LOVIN' CARE.

So that, my friends, is why I almost didn't get to blog today.  I was out there starin' at those gigantic tomato plants and totally lost track of the time.  I was out there for goodness knows how long, plannin' and strategizing, figurin' out what I should do if I should happen to spot giant clodhopper feet usin' those tomato vines to climb down into MY garden.  And wonderin' if I should perhaps take a preventative axe to Peepers' plants right now, 'cause one can never be TOO CAREFUL when it comes to giants and things.

And I also had a bit of a nap.

Twenty-four plus hours of nippin' will do that, you see.

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 story unfolds

Previously on Nerissa's Life...

The young lad shrugged his shoulders.  "Cats!  They can be so strange, sometimes," he murmured to himself, before heading off home to his mother.

Mason and Andy were in hot pursuit of Seville as he ran down the path as fast as his four paws would carry him.  Turning a corner, Seville came to a small clearing.

Seville skidded to a stop, and Mason ran into him, pushing him forward.  Moments later, Anderson ran into both Mason and Seville, causing all three to tumble, head over heels, until finally, they all came to rest inches away from their destination.

In unison, the three cats let out a long whistle.

Seville's jaw dropped, for he could barely believe what stood before him:  A house made entirely of nip.

Anderson started to drool.

Mason shook her head in disbelief.

"This, here, is where the Weasel Syndicate has set up shop," Seville stated.  "This is what they were talkin' about in that Paper Tablet Tabloid, for sure!"

"But why on Earth would the Weasel Syndicate build a house out of catnip?" asked Mason.  "Something isn't adding up."

"FOUR!" yelled Andy.  "The answer is four."

The other cats turned to stare at him.  "What?  The answer is always four, isn't it?  I'm always hearing people say, 'two plus two equals four'."

"Oh for the love of mouses," and Seville rolled his eyes.

At that moment, a wicked witch...  I mean, a WEASEL, wearing a wicked witch's hat and cloak, exited the house made entirely of nip.  Seeing the three cats, she smiled the most sinister of smiles.  "And what do we have here?" she asked.  Grabbing hold of Andy by his mane, she hauled him up onto his paws, and dragged him inside the house.   "Now don't you look DELICIOUS," she sneered.

"What the mouses?" cried Seville.  He and Mason scrambled to their paws and together, they darted inside the catnip house before the door closed behind Andy and the weaselly wicked witch.

"Stop!  STOP!" Andy cried.  "Let go of me, you... You...  YOU WEASEL!" he yelled.

"You had better do as he says!" cried Seville, giving the witchy weasel a good smacky-paw across the back of her legs.  "No one treats my brother like that.  NO ONE BUT ME."

Mason grabbed hold of Seville by the tail and tugged, "Sivvers, look.  Who are all these..." and she motioned in front of her.  "These non-weasels?"

Seville stopped mid smacky-paw - for he was about to introduce the wicked witch to his other front paw - and looked about.  "WHAT THE MOUSES?" he gasped.

The house made entirely of nip had but only the one room, and in the center of that room was a small table.  Sitting around it were three little pigs, bickering about building supplies.  In one corner was a little old lady, rocking back and forth on a rocking chair, and knitting what appeared to be a sweater, all the while complaining about her absentee granddaughter.

"Cluck, cluck, cluck!"

Seville jumped at the sound and turned to find a hen.

"Cluck, cluck, cluck!" the hen cried again, this time more loudly.  The witchy weasel reached under the hen and pulled out an egg.  Holding it up to the light, it sparkled as if made out of solid gold.

Then came a knock on the door, and from the other side could be heard an evil sounding voice.  "Let me in!  LET ME IN!" the voice cried.

Everyone sat still, and the house made entirely of catnip became deathly quiet.

"I SAID...  LET ME IN!  LET ME IN!  Or by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin, I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll..."

"Oh for mousin' out loud.  Hold onto your horses, there," ordered Mason, padding over to the door and flinging it wide open.

"By the hair of my chinny-chin-chin, I'll...

"I'll...

"I'LL...

"AH...  AH...  AH...   ACHOO!" and the wolf sneezed a sneeze so violent, it shook the entire niphouse, causing bits of catnip to fall from the ceiling.

"IT'S RAINING NIP!" Andy squealed with delight.

The wolf glared at Mason.  "A cat?  BUT I'M ALLERGIC TO CATS!" he wailed.

"All this falling catnip is making a mess of my knitting!" the old lady cried.

Andy dashed over to the old lady's side.  "Messes are sort of my speciality," he explained.  "What you want to do is..."

"What you wanna do," Seville interjected, "is stop makin' stupid ol' sweaters, and start makin' nip toys.  They're smaller, and a whole lot faster to knit.  And look at all this nip you have here to use!"  He grabbed hold of a piece of the wall, held it to his nose, and breathed in deeply.  "Gosh darn it," Seville grumbled.  "Now I've got the munchies.  MOUSES!"

"Hey!  HEY!  HEY!" cried the wolf, demanding everyone's attention.  "Someone called me, asking for an estimate.  I'm here to do an estimate for a demolition job!"

"OH WITCHY WEASEL LADY..." Seville called out.  "You have any snacks on paw?  All this nip has given me the munchies."

"I TOLD you to build your house out of brick," said one of the three pigs to a brother.  "Using catnip was bound to attract cats."

"And what's wrong with that?" Mason spun on her hind paws.  Nose-to-nose now with the little pig, she demanded,  "YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH CATS?"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!" The wicked witchy weasel screamed.  "This is NOT how this story goes!  This is NOT how the story unfolds!"


Suddenly, Seville woke with a start.

"I'm going up to bed now, Sweetie," and Peep #1 gently kissed Seville on the top of his head.  "Are you sleeping down here on the chesterfield, or are you coming upstairs?"

Seville stretched out a paw, then brought it close as if hugging himself, before wrapping it around one ear.  Letting out a loud sigh, he fell back to sleep.  Mason lay on the floor next to the chesterfield, purring as loudly as only a Mason can purr.  Anderson got to his paws and following Peep #1 into the kitchen, hoping there might be a treat or two in the offing.

"Nightie-night everyone," Peep #1 softly whispered, heading upstairs.
                                   

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

And they all lived happily ever after.

The End.

the dark and scary forest

Previously on Nerissa's Life...  

Seville stopped mid-sentence as the truth dawned on him.  "ANDY!  WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY TRAIL OF TREATS?"

"Treats?  What treats?" Andy asked, looking about, innocently.  "I didn't see any treats.  I didn't see any treats lying on the floor of this dark and scary forest.  I didn't see any trail of treats that led me right to you and Mason.  Nope, not a single one.  I didn't see a single tempting treat, at all."

Mason began to sniff around on the ground.  Finding no sign of Seville's treat trail beyond where Anderson stood, she frantically cried, "Seville, the trail is gone!  It's gone!  GONE!  We're lost!  Lost, I tell you.  LOST!  Lost out here in the middle of this dark and scary forest.  Lost, never to be found again.  What will become of us?  What will we do?"

Seville reached back and gave his sister a good smacky-paw across the face to calm her down.

"Seville," sniffed Mason, "the three of us are most certainly lost."

Anderson looked down at his paws.  "I messed up again, didn't I," he murmured.

"You can say that again," Seville scowled.  "In fact, you SHOULD say that again, Andy.  Only this time, say it a little louder, so EVERYONE can hear you."

"I messed up again," Andy repeated.  "I MESSED UP AGAIN.  I MESSED UP AGAIN!"

An owl hooted, off in the distance.

"Okay, so maybe not that loud," and Seville motioned for Andy to quiet down.  "Not sure I want all the creatures of this very dark and scary forest knowin' our whereabouts."

"We have to turn around, right now, and go straight back home," Mason stated.

"We have no trail to follow, remember?  Andy ate it," Seville reminded his sister.  "Now I think...  I think we should forge on ahead.  Do what we came here to do.  Let's go find those darned, moused-up weasels.  Who's with me?"

Hearing no answer, Seville took a good, hard look at his fur-sibs, only to find them shivering in their boots.  Metaphorically speaking, of course, for neither one was actually wearing any boots.

"Come on, you two...  So it's kinda dark out here.  So it's kinda scary.  It's a dark and scary forest!  What else is it supposed to be?  Have you ever known me to steer you wrong?  DON'T ANSWER THAT," and he held up a paw.  "MOUSES!"

Mason and Anderson refused to budge.

"Well I'm goin' in search of those weasels, even if you're not, so THERE." and Seville set off in the direction of where he believed the Weasel Syndicate had set up shop, heading deeper into the woods.  Casually, he dropped a treat on the forest floor, and a few paces later, he dropped another.  Seville surreptitiously looked over his shoulder and smiled to himself when he saw Andy following the dropped treats, even if he was eating them up as he went along.

"WELL YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME BEHIND!" Mason cried. "YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME ALL ALONE OUT HERE, ALL BY MYSELF!  ALL BY MYSELF IN THIS DARK AND SCARY FOREST!" and she scampered after her two brothers.

Seville chuckled to himself, and forged ahead.

A little while later, the three cats came to a clearing in the woods.  A young girl, wearing a bright red cloak, darted past.  "Hey!  YOU!" Seville cried out to her.  But instead of replying, she just held the basket she was carrying closer to her chest, and ran that must faster.  "How rude," Seville grumbled.  "You'd think there was a wolf after her or somethin'.  MOUSES!"

A few minutes later, a young boy entered the clearing and looked around.  Seeing the three cats, he approached them.  He was humming a happy tune to himself, all the while tossing up and down, a little leather pouch.  The pouch made a crunchy noise each time the lad caught it.  It was a familiar sound, rather like the nippy bean bags Peep #1 sometimes made.  The ones she filled with dried beans and catnip.  Seville sniffed the air but detected no sign of the nip.  Clearly, he would have no use for a leather pouch containing nothing but dried beans.

"You happen to know of any buildings in this here neck of the woods?" Seville asked the boy.  "Any buildings that might house the Weasel Syndicate's new enterprise?"

The boy thought for a moment before answering.  "None that I know of," and he rubbed his chin.  "None but the one a little ways down that path," and he pointed to the path on the other side of the clearing.  "Now as for weasels...  What exactly does a weasel look like?"

"If you don't know that, you've never met one," Seville stated.  "But there's a house or somethin' down that path, you say?"

"Oh yes, that very one.  It's a little house with a thatched roof.  Actually, it's not just the roof that's thatched.  The entire house is made of some odd kind of grass or straw."

Seville's eyes widened.  "An odd kind of grass, you say?"

"Uh-huh."  The boy screwed up his face, "It smells funny.  Almost minty, but not really.  It can't be regular straw.  I once took some when no one was looking, thinking I could use it to feed my cow, but she refused to have anything to do with it."

"Did you hear that?" Seville turned to Mason and Anderson.  "Grass that smells minty, but not really?  That's gotta be a nip house, for sure.  An entire house made of nip!" he cried with delight, doing a little jig, right on the spot.  "A HOUSE MADE OF NIP!  A HOUSE MADE OF NIP!" and without a second thought, Seville ran further into the woods.

"Oh crappy crapola mouses," Mason complained, placing her front paws on her hips.  "I suppose there's nothing for it but for us to follow him," she told Anderson, before crossing the clearing and stepping onto the path down which Seville had disappeared, moments before.

"I'M COMING!" yelled Andy, scampering after his brother and sister.  "WAIT FOR ME!  WAIT FOR ME!"

The young lad shrugged his shoulders.  "Cats!  They can be so strange, sometimes," he murmured to himself, before heading off home, to his mother.

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

Be sure to return Sunday for Part III of our adventure in the dark and scary forest.