fourteen weeks

I'm gettin' kinda tired of all this addin' and multiplyin' and complicated mathematics stuff, so let's just cut the chase, shall we?

SEVENTY-SIX MILLION, TWO HUNDRED AND FOUR THOUSAND, EIGHT HUNDRED SECONDS, IN CAT TIME.

That's how long I've been cooped up here in the house with the peeps stayin' the blazes home.

MOUSES!

*scratches behind one ear*

And let me tell you somethin', my friends, it has been UNBEARABLE for sure.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of bears...

That bear that came 'round here?  Apparently he came back.  Yup, the very next day he was around, gettin' into peeps' garbage and stuff.  Not ours, of course, on account of...

Well...

Well just 'cause he likes us, I guess.

MOUSES!

But I'll tell you who doesn't like us, my friends.  Yup, I'll tell you right now.

MOTHER NATURE, that's who.

MOUSES!

It has been unbearably...

UnBEARably...

HaHaHaaa..  Oh my mouses, sometimes I crack myself up.

It has been UNBEARABLY hot these last few days.  Heat warnings and everythin'.  Who the mouses ever heard of Nova Scotia bein' in the thirties in June?  Mid June, no less.  JUNE!  Goodness knows what it'll be like in July.

MOUSES!

And it's not like I can whip off my fur coat and don a light cotton tee.  I'm a cat, and my coat is permanent, you see.

Peeps don't know how lucky they are with their bare skin and stuff.

MOUSES!

Bare skin...  BARE skin.

My gosh, I've gone and done it again.

Cracked myself up, that is.

MOUSES!

But all puns aside, bottom line is, it's hot.  Super hot.  Way too hot for a kitty like me.  And I'm thinkin' with today's litigious society...

WHO CAN I SUE?

MOUSES!


Or should that be whom?

Either way, there must be SOMEONE, for sure, 'cause some peeps out there sue others at the drop of a hat.

And I wanna get in that action, and sue a dirty ol' rat.

Although maybe I shouldn't be callin' Mother Nature a dirty ol' rat, since she appears to be in control of the global thermostat, and all that.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

talk about crazy

Talk about a crazy ol' lady.

MOUSES!

So there are peeps out there who feed cats.  Peep #1 would be one of 'em, for sure.

And there are peeps out there who feed the birds.  My Peep #1 would kinda be one of those, too.  We don't actually have a bird feeder...

Some nonsense 'bout us cats lurkin' around bird feeders if she puts one up, she says.

But she plants stuff in the garden that birds like, so I guess that counts as feeding 'em.  Sorta.  You know, in a weird and crazy kinda way.

MOUSES!

And then there are peeps out there who feed...

No.  NO.  No, there are NOT any peeps out there who feed...

Okay, so there's ONE crazy ol' peep out there who feeds...

WAIT FOR IT...

MOSQUITOES.

MOUSES!

That's right, Peep #1 was out and about in the garden yesterday, and what did she do?

She fed mosquitoes.

MOUSES!

Okay, so that wasn't her original plan.  I mean, she didn't actually go to the mosquito store and buy mosquito food or anythin' like that.

She didn't need to.  She already had that on hand.

And on arm.

On leg.

On neck.

And any and every other part of her that was exposed, too.

MOUSES!

You should have seen her when she came indoors.  YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN HER, MY FRIENDS.  There were traces of blood - hers - and squished mosquitoes all over the place.

Well not exactly all over the place, but all over her arms and legs, for sure.  I saw a squished skeeter right in the middle of her forehead, too.

That forehead one was really gross and as a cat, I've seen my fair share of gross things, for sure.

MOUSES!

You know...

You know, in the warmer months, I get dabbed with that flea stuff, the first of every month.  Yup, right there on the back of my neck.  Not somethin' I enjoy, or anythin' like that, but the peep says it's important, and...

Well let's just say, I'm not really given a choice in the matter, my friends.

But what I wanna know is this:  HOW COME THE PEEP DOESN'T GET DABBED ON THE BACK OF HER NECK?

I'm tellin' ya, it's never a two way street around here.  Rules made for us cats are never followed by peeps.  Humans think the rules never apply to them.

It's a disgusting state of affairs, for sure.

MOUSES!

And you know somethin' else?

Next time I see a skeeter...

Next time I see one of those skeeters, I'm gonna tell him exactly where ol' Peeperoni hangs out.

And then...

And then, I'm not gonna tell the peep when she has a skeeter restin' on the back of her leg.

MOUSES!

I'm tellin' ya, if it looks like a toy, and moves like a toy...

Well I'm gonna treat it like a toy, for sure.

Contrary to what peeps say, location is most certainly NOT everythin', these days.

A kitty smacks a skeeter off the back of a peep's leg, and gets NOTHIN' BUT GRIEF for havin' done so.  Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah...  That's all I heard.  Nothin' but complaints, for sure.

Now come on, Peepers.  Be a good little peep and let me dab some flea stuff on the back of your neck.

MOUSES!