state of disrepair

"Hum-de-dum-de-dum-de-dum...  Hum-de-dum-de-do..." I sang softly, sidling up to Peep #1. "Oh Peepers, have you been in the front hall lately?  I think Mason pooped in your shoe."

"Mason did what?" the peep cried before dropping what she was doing and running into the hall.  In a flash, I was up on the kitchen island and had snagged a brick of cheese.  Heading into the family room, I heard the peep behind me saying, "No one pooped in my shoe, Seville."

"Did I say shoe?" I called back to her.  "I meant litter box.  Sorry," and I waved her off with a paw.

"You told the peep I pooped in her shoe?" Mason cried, paws placed firmly on her hips and looking rather indignant.

"Never mind that, Mason," Anderson told his sister before looking at me to ask, "Seville, did you get the cheese?"

"I got the cheese."

Hearing my answer, Rushton appeared in the room.  "Did someone say cheese?"

The four cats stared down at the brick of cheese before them and began to purr, loudly.

"Gosh that was good," I said, wiping my mouth with a paw.  "Time for a nap, I do believe." Anderson, Rushton and Mason nodded in agreement before heading off to their various favourite sleeping spots.  I, myself, jumped up onto the chesterfield and settled in for a snooze.

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

"Psst...  cat.  Psst...  CAT!  CAT!!!"

I opened one eye to see a little grey mouse before me, holding a clipboard.  "Awww...   MOUSES!" I cried.

"Your assistance is required," I was informed.

"My assistance is required.  My assistance is required?  Of course my assistance is required!" and I flung my front paws up in the air.  "What is it this time?  Someone lose their cheese?" I asked the mouse.

The little grey mouse stared back at me.  "Lose their cheese?" he asked.

"Never mind.  It's just an expression," I explained, rising to my paws.  "Lead the way oh royal mousiness.  Your desire is my command."

Again the little grey mouse stared blankly at me.  "Another expression!" I cried.  "Boy-oh-boy-oh-boy...  MOUSES!"

I watched as the little grey mouse surveyed the family room.  He quickly scribbled some notes on his clipboard and although I tried to get a glimpse of what he was writing, he held that board close to his chest.  Besides, the little I did see told me he was using cursive writing.  Might as well have been in secret code as cursive writing is no longer taught in Nova Scotian schools.  Clearly the Mouseland schools have recognized the shortsightedness of this.

Stopping in my tracks, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was different.  Was it the mouse? No, he looked like all the other Mouseland mice.  Was it the cheese?  Had the cheese I had recently snacked upon been off in some way?  I glanced around the room and saw Mason snoozing peacefully over on a chair.  Nothing had upset her tummy and she had eaten as much cheese as I. Maybe even more.  Clearly, the cheese had been okay.  So why did everything feel different in some way?

"Are you coming?" the mouse asked impatiently and I picked up my pace.  As we rounded the corner, ribbons of light swirled before my eyes as time and space morphed into what I had come to know as the great halls of Mouseland.

I could hear the sounds of construction going on in the back corner of the hall.  Several mice were wielding saws and hammers and goodness knows what else.  The commotion was both annoying and interesting at the same time and I made a mental note to investigate the first chance I got.

A second little grey mouse came running to the side of the mouse who had summoned me and was now whispering in his ear.  Together, they conferred over the notes the first mouse had taken at my house.  The second mouse nodded enthusiastically in agreement.  "Oh yes, yes...  Most definitely yes," I heard the second mouse say.  "That should do nicely."

I stuck my nose between the two mice before asking, "Anyone want to enlighten me as to what's going on?"

The second mouse coughed nervously before saying, "Er-hem...  We're going to need your condominium, Mr. Cat.  It is required."

"IT'S WHAT?" I cried.  "Wait a minute, I don't have a condominium.  I live in a house."  Then it came to me and I knew exactly what the mice were on about.  "You want my kitty condo.  Well no can do, my friends.  That condo belongs not just to me but to my fur-sibs as well.  Besides, moving it requires peep assistance.  No way for cats and mice to move it on their own.  It's too heavy, you see."

I sat back on my haunches, remembering the time Constance had taken a running leap, almost knocking the kitty condo down, thereby moving it without the aid of peeps but quickly decided not to mention that incident to the mice.  That condo was staying in my family room no matter what.

I stared at the mice and they stared right back.  "How come you guys need a condo, anyway?  No condos here in Mouseland?" I asked.

"Our main residence requires repairs," a third mouse answered as he approached.  "It is currently unfit for mouse occupancy."

"That's awful!" I cried.  "Look, I can certainly commiserate with you.  Every mouse needs a house but tell me, how did it get so far gone?  Hurricane?  Tornado?  Flood?  Some other unexpected disaster like a newly purchased high-powered vacuum with cyclonic speed?"

"None of the above," the first mouse sadly shook his head.  "Nothing so unforeseen.  It was simply neglect.  Years upon years of neglect.  Warnings were given.  Warnings were ignored.  Now the residence is practically falling apart.  We're making repairs as fast as we can but," and the mouse pointed to the far corner of the hall where I had noticed construction being done earlier, "as you can see, they won't be completed any time in the near future."

"WOW.  I feel for you, guys.  Really, I do.  Looks like you have a big old mess on our paws but," and I narrowed my eyes, "you're not getting my kitty condo and that's just how it is.  MOUSES!"

The great halls of Mouseland suddenly became deathly quiet and I'd swear you could hear a kitten's whisker fall on a deeply piled rug.

"What can I say, mice?  The condo belongs to us cats.  Besides, I'm not sure if you noticed or anything but it's not in all that great shape, either.  Needs some new carpeting in spots.  Got my paws crossed Santa will take care of that in a couple of months."

"Anyway," and I strode across the hall with an air of determination, "exactly who is to blame for your residence falling apart?  Someone must be.  Someone must be responsible for the neglect.  Make him fix it up.  After all, it's kind of HIS FAULT!"

At that, all the mice began to talk in unison but I couldn't make heads nor tails about what they were saying.  The mice who had been working in the construction area began constructing once more and I crept up behind them.  Suddenly, one turned toward me and put down the hammer he was using.

I peered at this new mouse and licked my lips with a grin.  I even made a sudden move towards him but alas, I couldn't spook him at all.  He stood his ground and smiled back at me, almost knowingly.

This mouse was different from the rest and that was for sure.  He had an air of authority about him and confidence, too, and yet not so overly confident as to be annoying if you know what I mean. He was clearly in charge but not bossing everyone around.

I approached closer, giving the air a good sniff.  "Excuse me, Sir, but you don't smell quite right for a mouse in charge of this place..  I don't smell any of that stinky ol' Gorgonzola cheese at all."  I inhaled even more deeply.  There was a cheesy smell all right but not...  "Cheddar!" I cried.  "You've been snacking on Canadian Cheddar.  Ten...  No...  Twelve-years-old.  Am I right?"

We were nose to nose now, this new mouse and I.  I gazed into his eyes and wondered, could this be The Big Cheese in disguise?

"Of course!" and I slapped a paw to my head.  "You changed your hair.  I should of known.  NICE. Yup, yup...  Very nice hair, indeed."

I turned to the little grey mouse who had summoned me earlier and whispered in his ear, "Get the name of his groomer for me, would you?  I could do with a groomer like that.  He's good."

"So why AM I here?" I asked.  "Anyone know?  Taking my kitty condo is a non-starter but I'll tell you what I will do.  I'll lend a paw with helping to fix up this residence of yours.  What needs to be done first?  Might I suggest you get rid of these Gorgonzola cheese crumbs lying about?"  I picked up a couple crumbs and tossed them out of my way.  "Crumbs like that are gonna stink up the place, for sure."

Grabbing a broom, I started sweeping the area and noticed the mouse with the nice hair heading back to his work, hammering supports together for what I assumed was part of a foundation.  "Seriously, mouse," I cried over to him.  "You really ought to make whoever refused to take care of this mess earlier, fix it up now.  After all, if the place hadn't been neglected for so long, it wouldn't have fallen into this state of disrepair."

And then all of a sudden, just for good measure and kind of on a whim, I cried out at the top of my lungs, the cry of my people.  "MOUSES!" I yelled.  I yelled as loudly as I could.

"Mice," I heard echoing from all four corners of the Mouseland hall.  "The plural of mouse is mice."

"Nice to hear the Grammar Mice Police are still with us," I smirked to myself.  "I was wondering when they'd make their presence known.  Was even kind of missing them, there, for a moment at least. Thought they might all have gone home."

Then back to work I went, sweeping Gorgonzola cheese crumbs off the Mouseland residence floor, surrounded by mice who were busily repairing damaged floors, walls and ceilings along with goodness knows what else.

stay the course!

"Psst...  CAT!"

I opened one eye. Standing before me was a little grey mouse. "Awww...  Not again. MOUSES!"

"So you're awake, Mr. Cat?"

I opened my other eye. "Well I am now.  Again I say, MOUSES!"

"Good.  Please follow me, Mr. Cat.  You assistance is required."

I stood on all four paws, stretching first my front legs and then my hind ones.  Letting out a big yawn, I glared at the little mouse standing before me, clutching his mouse-sized clipboard. "Seriously mouse, I was having a good dream involving cheesy nip pizzas before you woke me up. You need to stop doing that.  MOUSES!"

The little mouse whom I assumed to be M1 although, truth be told, looked identical to all the other mice of Mouseland, save one, raised an eyebrow.

"Every time I snack on cheese..."  I studied the mouse before me.  "Hmmm...  Maybe I should start snacking on mice instead."

Narrowing his eyes, M1 leaned forward to whisper, "We're not nearly as tasty as you might think. Stick with the cheese, Cat.  MOUSES!"  The little mouse's eyes grew wide as he covered his gaping mouth with both paws.  His mouse-sized clipboard clattered to the ground and off in the distance I heard the whispers of the Grammar Mice correcting him, "Mice.  The plural of mouse, is mice."

"Hah!  Even the mice are using MOUSES! now," I said with a smirk.  "Worth being awakened to hear that.  Lead the way, M1.  What's up?  What's going on in Mouseland now?  Cat got your cheese?  The Big Cheese doing cheesy stuff?  Is he still eating that cheese with the stink?"  M1 ignored my questions as I followed him out of the room.

Turning the corner, the air grew thick and hazy.  Neon-coloured swirls swirled before my eyes and there were flashes of blinding light.  All of a sudden, a wave of icy cold water splashed in my face. "What the mouses?"  I wiped the water away from my face with a paw but it left an odd taste in my mouth.  A taste akin to salt water and Gorgonzola cheese.  "That's new," I sputtered.  "What's up with the cheesy water, mouse?  And -  And are we on some kind of boat or something?  Where's the great hall of Mouseland?"

"We've entered the Gorgonzola Stream!" yelled the mouse, trying to be heard over the sound of waves crashing against a rocky shore.  "Hang on!  We're in for a rough ride."

My paws were slipping and sliding on what appeared to be the oily deck of a trawler of some sort. At the helm, I could see a larger mouse with a suspiciously long tail whom I immediately recognised as The Big Cheese.  "Where are we headed?" I yelled.

M1 was clinging for dear life to the guard rail of the trawler, his clipboard long gone.  "JUST HANG ON!" he cried back to me.  "We're caught in the stream.  If The Big Cheese can't steer us clear, we'll hit the shore!"

I could hear bells ringing in the distance and a deafening fog horn that sounded as if it was getting closer and closer by the minute but even louder than the foghorn was the sound of The Big Cheese's voice yelling, "STAY THE COURSE!  WE HAVE TO STAY THE COURSE!"

"Why did you bring me here, M1?" I yelled at the little grey mouse.  "We're headed towards those rocks.  You couldn't have chosen a worse time for a cruise."

"STAY THE COURSE!" The Big Cheese continued to yell.  I could see the ship's wheel spinning out of control beneath his paws.  M1 was right.  We were caught up in this Gorgonzola Stream - whatever that was - being taken to places unknown.

The foghorn was still blasting its warnings of the rocky shores ahead and bells were incessantly ringing off in the distance.  I desperately wanted to cover my ears with my paws but didn't dare release my grip of the trawler's guard rails.

I looked over my left shoulder.  Off in the distance there appeared to be a series of locks and further beyond that, a peaceful cove where the sun was shining and there was not a storm cloud in sight.  I briefly questioned the logistics of what I was seeing before realising that the laws of physics and whatnot in Mouseland differed from those in the rest of universe.

"Big Cheese!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.  "Steer to the left or the port side or whatever you want to call it.  There are peaceful waters over there."

"He can't hear you," little M1 yelled over to me.  "He hears nothing but the cries of the Gorgonzola Stream."

"Cries of the stream?  What are you talking about M1?  Is the stream alive or something?"

"No, it's just a stream.  A current, actually.  A powerful current of melted Gorgonzola cheese."

I shook my head in dismay and looked longingly over the port side of the ship.  If I could just make it to those locks.  "Are those locks Canadian Cheese Consortium infrastructure?" I asked M1.

"They're not what you think," the little mouse cried back.

"STAY THE COURSE!" the Big Cheese continued to cry.

"It's not water in those locks," little M1 explained.  "They're holding areas for various other cheese streams.  From when the Canadian Cheese Consortium was more diversified.  The Big Cheese has ignored them for ages."

There was no doubt in my mind that we needed out of this stream of Gorgonzola Cheese as its course was clearly unclear.  Dangerous and unacceptable and as The Big Cheese appeared to be either unwilling or incapable to steer us away, I knew I would have to take on the job, myself. Bravely letting go of the trawler's guard rail with one paw, I dug my claws into the oily deck. "It's going take me weeks to clean this mess off my paws," I growled to myself.  I managed to make my way a few feet across the deck before experiencing the sensation of being lifted into the air. Had the trawler collided with the shore?  Was I being tossed overboard?  "CAT OVERBOARD!" I cried, trying to be heard over the ringing of those stupid bells in the distance, the foghorn that was now proving to be quite annoying and the cries of The Big Cheese to stay the course.

"There you are, Seville. Time for bed.  Did you have a bedtime snack?" Peep #1 asked me.

"As a matter of fact, I helped myself to a little cheese earlier in the evening," I explained to the peep.  "Maybe I should have gone for the Temptations."

I glanced over the peep's shoulder and into the kitchen.  All evidence of Mouseland, the raging waters and the ship that was clearly off-course had disappeared but I knew with certainty that not only would the sun rise in the morning but that Mouseland would appear, once more, too.  Probably the next time I snacked on some cheese. MOUSES!

head in the sand

Feeling a little peckish, I sauntered into the kitchen only to find my sister, Mason, already snacking on a bowl of kibble. "That the best on offer today?" I asked.

"Looks like it.  Checked on the island but there was nothing save a vase of sweet peas."

"Why would you want to save a vase of sweet peas, Mason?"  I shook my head, trying to figure out what sweet peas had to do with savings accounts.  I then glanced in the direction of the refrigerator and a brilliant idea came to mind.  "Mason, help me with this door, would you?"

Mason stopped eating her kibble.  "Do you think we can get it open?  I tried earlier but with this new fridge, I can't reach the handle.  All I could open was the freezer part at the bottom and everything in there was frozen."

I braced myself on all fours.  "Hop on my back, Mason.  You should be able to open the door if I give you a boost."

Within five minutes, we had the fridge door open.  Standing on our hind legs, we stared inside.  The top shelves were out of reach but there, on the bottom shelf, was a box of Camembert.  With one swipe of a paw, I had that cheese onto the kitchen floor and out of its box.  Success.

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

Mason smacked her lips with pleasure.  "That was delicious!" she declared, "even if it was a tad on the cold side.  Ice cold Camembert isn't nearly as bad as I've heard it to be.  Pass me some of those broken crackers, would you Sivvers?"

I obliged by stomping on a few crackers and pushing the broken bits over to my sister before stating, "That was good.  I think I'll take a little nap.  Maybe I can score some tummy rubs or something from a peep," and off I went in the direction of the family room.  Minutes later, I was sound asleep.

"Psst...  PSST...  CAT!"

"Awww...  MOUSES!" I mumbled under my breath.  I let out a big yarn.  A HUGE yawn. My teeth gleamed in the moonlight streaming through the family room window.

The little grey mouse standing before me and clutching a mouse-sized clipboard, sniffed the air. "You have cheese breath," he declared.  "Camembert, to be exact.  No wonder I was sent to summon you tonight."

"Better cheese on my breath than mouse, I should think," and I slowly rose to my feet.  Getting in a good stretch, I asked, "What is it this time?  What has The Big Cheese done now?"

"He hasn't done a thing," explained the little grey mouse.  "That's the whole problem.  Please follow me as I'm on a tight schedule."

"You're always on a tight schedule," I muttered while following the little grey mouse out of the room. "Sometimes I think you just make that schedule stuff up.  Just once I'd like to actually see that schedule of yours."  We turned the corner and, as expected, the air in what should have been the kitchen turned thick and hazy.  Coloured lines swirled before my very eyes and flashes of light burst here and there.  We had arrived in the great hall of Mouseland.

I peered around but saw no sign of any mice anywhere.  As if reading my mind, the little grey mouse explained how it was summer break.  "Then why am I here?" I asked him.  "Surely I must deserve a summer break from Mouseland, too."

The mouse just stared at me as if I had said something ridiculous.  "Please..." he uttered in an exasperated tone.  "Come this way."

Obediently, I followed the mouse to the end of the hall and watched as he magically disappeared through a wall.  "MOUSES!"

"Mice." I heard emanating from beyond the wall.  "The plural of mouse is mice."

"Ah-hah!  The grammar mice aren't on holiday," I declared.  "Wonder if I can walk through that wall, too."  I closed my eyes and forged ahead.  "OUCH!"  I rubbed my nose where I had smacked it into the wall.  "Darn it.  Why didn't that trick work for me, too?"

I opened my eyes and the wall before me moved.  The little grey mouse stood on the other side, staring up at me.  "Mr. Cat, it's not a wall.  It's a door.  I walked though that little mouse hole at the bottom.  You, on the other paw, need to use the doorknob and open the door!"

"Oh, yeah.  Knew that," I said, still rubbing my nose and crossing my claws that it wouldn't leave a bruise.

"Hurry up, Cat.  We're running late.  I'll brief you along the way.  I need you to have a little chat with The Big Cheese."

"But I thought you said he didn't do anything."

"I did," explained the mouse, "and that's why we need you to talk to him."

Before long, I was standing in front of an office door. Not willing to fall for the same trick, twice, I reached for the doorknob and turned it.  The door opened and a blast of hot air hit me in the face.  I jumped back in shock and disbelief.

It wasn't just the temperature of the room I found to be disturbing.  It was its appearance, too.  The floor was covered in several inches of sand.  Wall-to-wall sand, everywhere.  And on those walls surrounding the sand, were pictures of ostriches.  I looked at the pictures and then at the little grey mouse. "The Big Cheese likes them," he explained, shrugging his shoulders.  "I don't know why. He just does."

The Big Cheese was in the office, too.  He was lying on his back next to a mouse-sized refrigerator that was chugging away as all get-out, trying to keep cool in the rising temperatures.  The door to the fridge was open and every now and then The Big Cheese would reach inside to extract a paw full of soft cheese.  I momentarily wondered if said cheese was Camembert which should be served at room temperature but not when the temperature in the room was this high.

I peered inside The Big Cheese's fridge and saw that it was stuffed to the brim with various types of soft cheese.  Then I looked outside the office window and saw truck after truck after truck, lined up on the street.  Each one clearly belonging to the Canadian Cheese Consortium and every one packed full of soft cheese.  Suddenly I realised exactly what was going on.

"You can't just ignore it," I said to The Big Cheese.  "Ignoring the facts won't make them go away."

The Big Cheese turned toward me and I saw gooey melted cheese dripping from the corners of his mouth.

"Just look at you, man!  I mean mouse!  I mean man!" I cried.  "LOOK AT YOU!!!  Lying here in this sweltering heat, pretending that everything is normal.  Pretending there aren't truckloads of soft cheese lining the streets due to a glut of soft cheese on the world market.  Bet that glut has lowered its price, and all.  Bet it's lowering Consortium profits, too.  Have you done anything to address this issue?"

I paused for a moment and fanned my face with a paw.  "Why it feels like it's a hundred degrees in your office, I couldn't tell you, although truth be told, as these temperatures are melting all the soft cheeses, it might be the reason no one wants to buy any of it.  You ever think about diversifying and trying to sell some different types of cheese?"

"I don't feel the heat at all," The Big Cheese sneered.  "This is normal for this time of year.  It's always warm in summer.  NOTHING to do with any kind of warming trend.  The globe is not warming at all.  In fact, I forbid you to even talk about such things!"

I rolled my eyes.  "You're in some kind of state of denial," I told him.  "If it wasn't so hot in here, you wouldn't be chilling your soft cheeses like that," and I pointed to the little refrigerator, still chugging away, trying its might to spew out cold air.

"Don't know what you're talking about, Cat," and The Big Cheese wiped a stream of melted cheese from his mouth.  "Like I said, there's nothing wrong with the temperature in this room.  Nothing wrong with Consortium profits, either.  In fact, I'm predicting we'll have a surplus of profits by year-end."

"A surplus of profits?" I questioned.  "That doesn't sound quite right, Mr. Cheese."

There was a commotion in the hall and I looked outside.  Several little mice wearing ragtag clothing wandered past, carrying slips of pink paper in their paws.

The Big Cheese motioned to the little grey mouse who had summoned me.  "Close that door," he ordered.

I glared at The Big Cheese.  "Who were those mice?" I demanded.  "Clearly, there are mice in Mouseland who can barely afford to clothe themselves.  And they looked so thin.  They work - or worked - for the Canadian Cheese Consortium but they look like they don't have even enough cheese to eat, themselves."

"Then let them eat cake.  CHEESECAKE!" The Big Cheese cried with a flourish, before stuffing another paw full of soft cheese into his mouth.

I stared at The Big Cheese in disbelief.  There was simply no way to reason with the mouse. Whether he was truly oblivious to the facts before him or simply refusing to admit things were not going as planned, he was determined to ignore the state of affairs the Canadian Cheese Consortium was in.  I turned to the little grey mouse who had summoned me.  "There's nothing I can do with him," I declared.

"But Mr. Cat, we need you to reason with him," the little mouse said in a low voice.  "Get him to address the issues at paw instead of pretending all is well in the Canadian Cheese Consortium.  The mice of Mouseland are counting on you."

"I'm sorry little guy, there's nothing I can..."

Then all of a sudden, I felt myself being lifted up.  The air around me cooled and the smell of melting cheese and mouse breath disappeared.  "I'm heading up to bed, Seville," I heard Peep #1 say. "And I'm turning off the fan down here so why don't you come upstairs, too."

I looked into the peep's eyes.  "Awww... MOUSES!" I cried.

"Were you dreaming about chasing cute little mice through fields?" the peep asked me with a smile.

"Not exactly, Peepers.  I was... Uh...  Never mind.  You probably wouldn't understand, anyway.  MOUSES!"