the big day

So tomorrow is the big day.

No, it's not my birthday, I'm afraid.

Although truth be told, MY BIRTHDAY would be a big day, for sure.  The biggest day EVER!  The most important day to celebrate in the history of the world!

Or at least in the history of Canada.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of Canada...

That's right, my friends, tomorrow is CANADA DAY!

MOUSES!

So we are havin' birthday celebrations and all that, but it's not MY birthday we'll be celebratin'.

On the other paw...

WHY THE MOUSES NOT?

HEY PEEPERS!  YOU THINK ANYONE WOULD OBJECT IF I, SEVILLE THE CAT, WERE TO COMMANDEER CANADA DAY AND TURN IT INTO A  DAY CELEBRATIN' ME?

'Cause quite frankly, a day celebratin' me sounds like the perfect day, for sure, and...

YOU THINK THEY WOULD MIND, PEEPERS?

REALLY?

WHY?

MOUSES!

Personally, I think a national holiday celebratin' Seville the Cat - that would be me - would be THE BEST national holiday anyone could hope to have.  We'd have niptinis along with salmon steaks drenched in nip sauce.  And some nice nippy ice cream for dessert, and...

Oohhh...  And for entertainment, cats across the country could gather, playin' with biff bags and nip mice and wand toys and...

Oohhh...  And peeps could set up giant chesterfields for scratchin', and...

OOHHH...  And on this day celebratin' Seville the Cat - once again, that would be me - every cat in the land gets first choice of all the prime spots in the house.  BY LAW.

In other words, peeps can sit on the floor.

OOHHH...  And if peeps don't like sittin' on the floor, they can go out the door!

Makin' sure they return in time to serve us our din-dins, of course.

AND AS FOR TREATS, THERE WILL BE AN UNLIMITED SUPPLY.

Now I ask you, does this not sound like a good way to celebrate the first of July?

AND I, bein' the cat bein' honoured on this wonderfully special day, DECREE THERE WILL BE NO FIREWORKS ALLOWED.

'Cause they're super scary, you know?

And...

And...

And...

HEY PEEPERS!  I'M OFFICIALLY CHANGIN' TOMORROW TO SEVILLE THE CAT DAY.

Okay?

Okay.

I'll start contactin' news outlets now.

Hmmm...  Better give a heads up to the Prime Minister, too.  This is the kind of stuff he really needs to know.

Plus, he might not have enough catnip and nip mice on paw.  He might need to go shoppin' on his way home.

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.

put 'em to better use

Christmas and New Year's are long gone, now.  Even Little Christmas has passed. The holidays are all over for another year and it's time to get back to business, for sure.

This is a new year and it's bringin' a lot of changes to my house.  There are so many things I need to do.

For starters, I need to get workin' on my campaign for the Senate.  I have some super great ideas to implement.  I have some of the best ideas the Senate has heard of or seen in a very long time. Now all I've gotta do is get myself appointed.  MOUSES!

And speakin' of the Senate and campaigns and whatnot, I should just clarify somethin'.  Here in Canada, Senators are not elected.  They're appointed by the Prime Minister.  Well technically, they're appointed by the Governor General after bein' recommended by the Prime Minister. Recommended, summoned, whatever...  So I don't need to win an election.  I just need to be recommended.

But I still need to mount a campaign of sorts.  Not a campaign for an election but rather, a campaign to help the Prime Minister see the wisdom of appointin' me, Nerissa the Cat, to the Canadian Senate.  MOUSES!

If you wanna help with this here campaign of mine, please feel free to contact the Prime Minister of Canada and let him know what you think.  Feel free to tweet him, give him a call or even send him a letter.

If you're tweetin', please remember to include the hashtag #Niss4Senate.   I appear to be the only one usin' this hashtag at the mo.  I'm pretty sure it will be more effective once it starts trendin' but I kinda think that in order for it to trend, there has to be more than just me usin' it.  You know?

And if you should choose to go the snail mail route, I just wanna say that this form of mail doesn't really travel at the speed of snails.  It's more like that of a turtle, I should think.  Turtles, tortoises, whatever...  Does anyone really know the difference?  Does anyone really care?  Probably the turtles and tortoises do but what about the rabbits and hares?

I'm bettin' that you're all wonderin' what ideas I intend to bring forth once appointed to the Senate.  I have a list of stuff.  A to-do list, of sorts.  Gonna reveal those things in future posts right here on Nerissa's Life.  As loyal readers of my blog, you'll be the very first to know.  Pretty exciting, for sure.

Are you wonderin' what other things I have in store for the new year?  Well...

Well I'm gonna start crackin' the whip with the peeps.  They've been slackin'.  Slackin' BIG time. Time for me to put a stop to their ridiculous behavior.

Now that the hustle and bustle of the holidays is over, the peeps need to start puttin' their paws to better use.  Better use than what they were doin' with their paws before the holidays, for sure.


There was a lot of baking going on at my house in the weeks prior to Christmas and do you know what? Not a single one of those recipes used nip as a main ingredient.  Not a single one.  MOUSES!

That kind of behaviour has gotta stop.  If Peep #1 wants to bake, at least half of the recipes she uses should include nip.  I'm thinkin' that's more than fair. I mean, we cats outnumber the peeps in this house so technically, more than half the recipes should include the nip but I'm tryin' to go easy on the peep... FOR NOW.  We can always renegotiate nip percentages, next year.

Secondly, there has been way too much knittin' goin' on.  That's gonna have to stop.

To be fair, much of the knittin' prior to the holidays was elfin' work being done for Santa and those knitted biff bags and mice were stuffed with nip so, of course, knittin' of that sort may continue as much as desired.  Any kind of knittin' that includes nip is a-okay in my books.

But scarves?  And sweaters?  I don't wear scarves nor do I wear sweaters so stuff like that is just a waste of good yarn.  Plus, Peep #1 has a tendency to knit scarves usin' lacy patterns.  Oh sure, they look pretty and whatnot but do you know that you get when you try to stuff a lacy scarf with nip?  You get an empty scarf and a whole bunch of nip, lyin' on the floor.  I can attest to that from my own personal experience.

And if you try to play with said lacy scarf, you get scolded.  I can attest to that, too.  Yup, I can attest to that, for sure.  MOUSES!

Now if the peep starts knittin' comfy blankies, we can talk.  Especially if those blankies are stuffed with the nip.

Of  course, my sister Mason made a New Year's Resolution to learn how to knit, this year.  Well technically, I made that resolution for her but it's still a resolution and it's still for the new year so it still counts.  Mason can knit all she likes.  I have faith that she will put her newly acquired knittin' skills to good use.  I have faith that whatever Mason knits will include the nip.  MOUSES!

The peep needs to start puttin' her paws to better use.  I'm thinkin'...  chin tickles, behind-the-ear scritches and tummy rubs.  And that's just for starters.

With the new year we have new episodes of Murdoch Mysteries.  And Downton Abbey is back on PBS.  Gotta love shows like those 'cause they provide quality cuddlin' time with the peeps.  Nothin' like spendin' a few hours with your peeps while they tickle your chin and rub your tummy.  That's gotta be one of the best ways to spend an evenin', for sure.

I suppose I shouldn't monopolise all the peep's time, though.  Peep #1 does need to get back to workin' on her own writing.  She'll never be as prolific a writer as I but still, she needs at least a few hours of computer time a week if she's ever gonna finish that book of hers.

And she needs to take the Christmas tree down, too.  Like I said, the holidays are over now for the year but the Christmas tree in the livin' room is still up.  We cats have been tryin' to help by knockin' down some of the breakable rollables every now and then. Every day we knock down a few more but the peep, bein' a peep, keeps putting 'em back up.  What a peep.

The Christmas tree went up late last year so I'm bettin' it will come down late, too.  I wonder if the peep will get it down by Valentine's Day.  Valentine's Day, I can handle but it had better be down by Easter.  Easter is just way too late.  MOUSES!

censored!

Hey there, you ol' Nosey-Neighbour-Cat, I'll shake your paw but I've only got one thing to say to you and that's, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!

Okay, that never actually happened.

Now don't get me wrong, Nosey-Neighbour-Cat was in my house.  Oh yeah, he was in my house, for sure.  He was hangin' around an awful lot and snuck in when none of us cats were lookin'.  Then he went out last Wednesday night and we cats all breathed a collective sigh of relief 'cause to tell you the truth, none of us actually like him.  But he doesn't like us, either, so it all evens out, I suppose.

Then late Friday afternoon, Peep #1 went into the garage lookin' for a plant pot.  She found a pot, all right, but do you know what else she found?  She found that darned cat!  He must have been in there for over a day 'cause the last time the peep had had the garage door open was on Thursday mornin' when she was puttin' the garbage out for collection.  She hadn't realised he had snuck in when she wasn't lookin'.  Oh yeah, he's a super sneaky character is that Nosey-Neighbour-Cat. Super sneaky, for sure.  MOUSES!

Anywho...  Peep #1 felt sorry for Nosey-Neighbour-Cat on account of his havin' been locked in our garage for so long and she felt kind of guilty, too, as she had been the one to accidentally lock him in there.  So when he asked to come back into my house, she went and opened the window.  Again I must say...  MOUSES!

Well that happened, Friday.  Today is Sunday and today is the day he finally left.  Got my paws crossed that he'll go to his own house, eat his own food, breath his own air, use his own litter box and pester his own peeps.  Got my paws crossed but truth be told, it might just be wishful thinkin' on my part.  Once more I must say...  MOUSES!

Now you're all probably wonderin' why I didn't say somethin' to that ol' Nosey-Neighbour-Cat before this mornin'.  You're probably wonderin' why I didn't tell him to get the heck back to his own house and stay there.  Believe you me, I thought about it.  I thought about it long and hard but then I thought better of it and held my tongue.

You ever hear of the expression, the cat's got your tongue?  Well, I'm a cat and I was holdin' my own tongue on account of knowin' that I shouldn't just blurt out whatever was on my mind without thinkin' about the ramifications of blurtin' without thinkin' because I'm a better cat than that. MOUSES!

Durin' the last day and a half, the rest of my fur-fam had been givin' Nosey-Neighbour-Cat a pretty hard time.  There wasn't any fighting.  No fur flew or anythin' like that.  But my sibs were actin' pretty rudely towards him, for sure.  They ostracised him.

No, they didn't turn him into an ostrich.  They didn't even call him an ostrich.  They didn't really call him any names at all.  They just ignored him.

That's right, my fur-fam ignored Nosey-Neighbour-Cat and they did so really rudely.  It's definitely possibly to ignore someone politely but that is not what my fur-fam did.  Not what they did at all.

My fur-fam went out of their way to let Nosey-Neighbour-Cat know he was bein' ignored.  He must have felt so unwelcome, which, to be honest, he was but still...  I'm thinkin' his feelings must have been smartin', for sure.  Yeah, it was pretty rude.

Nosey-Neighbour-Cat camped out on top of the kitchen cupboards and the refrigerator for a whole day and a half, only coming down for meals and group photos.  Oh yeah, there were no group photos taken.  MOUSES!

Okay, he came down to eat and use the litter box.  The peeps didn't actually feed him 'cause they were seriously hopin' he'd get the hint and head on back to his own house with his own peeps but Nosey-Neighbour-Cat has a way of helpin' himself.  He even tore into an unopened bag of kibble.  Could you believe it?  He didn't like what the peep had left in our snackin' bowls and wanted somethin' else so he tore right into the bag and, as I said, helped himself.  He also ate soft food from our plates and, I believe, knocked a tin off the counter, at one point, to get at the fanciest of the feasts.  Again I must say...  MOUSES!

The rest of my fur-fam were behavin' like cliquey teenage girls in a high school cafeteria.  You know, the ones featured on so many movies 'bout high school cafeterias.  They were sittin' everywhere but where Nosey-Neighbour-Cat was sittin'.  Makin' him feel like he didn't have a friend in the world.  Of course, at my house, he really doesn't have any friends but he always had his own house to go to.  Over there, they love him.  Why he wants to hang out with us is one of the great unanswered mysteries of the century.  Well that and who let the dogs out but I've pretty much given up on the findin' the answer 'bout those dogs.  Once more I must say...  MOUSES!

I seriously considered join' my fur-fam in the ostracisation of Nosey-Neighbour-Cat.  I thought, everyone else is doin' it so why shouldn't I join in on the fun, too?

Then I thought better.  Partly 'cause even those it might be fun for the ostracisers, for the ostracisee, fun is definitely missin' from the equation.

But my main reason for not participatin' in the ostracisation of the most nosey cat in the neighbourhood, EVER, was that I realised that I was a better cat than that.  I realised that this was my moment to shine.  To rise above the general fray and be a shining example for mancats, everywhere.

Also, it occurred to me that this whole ostracising business could very well be some sort of test bein' given to me by the universe.  A test to see if I, Nerissa the Cat, really am qualified to be appointed to the Senate of Canada.  To see if I, Nerissa the Cat, should be representin' the Province of Nova Scotia in the Canadian Senate.

Representin' Nova Scotia in the Senate would be a very prestigious honour.  Although a political position, there is some diplomacy involved.  And politeness, too.  Nothin' wrong with a little politeness.  Politeness can go a long way, for sure.

You ever hear that ol' expression 'bout catchin' more flies with honey than vinegar?  Well, it's true. Vinegar won't catch you a fly at all.  Not that anyone actually wants to go out catchin' flies - I'm more inclined to swat them away, myself - but I'm sure you get my point.

It occurred to me that when I'm appointed to the Senate of Canada, I'm gonna have to be somewhat diplomatic 'bout certain things.  It also occurred to me that as practise makes perfect, I should start practicin' the art of diplomacy on Nosey-Neighbour-Cat.  No one ever said this bein' a Senator stuff was gonna be easy!

So I refrained from the ostracisation of that nosey neighbourin' cat of mine.  At one point, I even extended him a paw when he passed me while jumpin' down from the cupboards.

Several times over the last day and half, I was tempted to give him a piece of my mind.  To tell him to, you know, get out of my house and go back from whence he came.  But instead of just blurtin' out whatever I was thinkin', I censored myself.  That's right, I was censored!  I held my tongue like a real mancat does and instead, offered up a smile with merely the suggestion of the fact that his peeps were probably missin' him and he might wanna go home to let 'em know he was okay.

I kept thinkin' of the honey and vinegar thing and remindin' myself that blurtin' without thinkin' usually comes back to bite you in tail when you're least expectin' it.  I also reminded myself that bites to tail are extremely painful, at best.

Now today, my brothers and sisters are snickerin' behind my back 'cause I wouldn't join in on their fun but I pointed out to them that firstly, by bein' polite, I managed to get that ol' Nosey-Neighbour-Cat to leave our house, this mornin'.  Their tactics were gettin' them nowhere.  They were gettin' Nosey-Neighbour-Cat to go nowhere, too.

I also reminded my fur-fam that I need to look out for my own political career. I really want that appointment to the Senate and if I'm gonna get it, I've gotta show Canadians that I can be a responsible politician and behave with the necessary decorum.  I need to be polite.  I need to be diplomatic.  I need to behave with maturity.  I need to behave, appropriately.   I mean...  It's not like I wanna run for Prime Minister or anythin'.  MOUSES!

and in other news...

I threw up.  Yeah, I did. MOUSES!

I don't do a lot of horkin' blog posts.  In fact, this might be my very first one.  Thing is, I don't do a lot of horkin' so if I were relyin' upon horkin' incidents to induce the writing of blog posts, I wouldn't be writin' many posts on my blog.

Now if my Aunties Primrose or Blossom were the authors of Nerissa's Life, it would be an entirely different story. Those two have been horkin' on a regular basis for seventeen years.  MOUSES!

But my aunties are not the authors of this here blog.  I, Nerissa the Cat, am the sole author of Nerissa's Life.  I write all my own stuff.

Dare I say it?   Yeah, why not?  MOUSES!

I suppose the big news wasn't really that I threw up, though.  The big news was where and when I did it.  Let me explain...

The other night, I insisted upon sleepin' in my office.  I don't do that a lot but the other night, I was determined.   I begged and I begged and I begged and finally, Peep #1 relented.  I was in.  But why should I have to beg to sleep in my office?  It is my office.  Surely I have a right to sleep in it. Again I must say, MOUSES!

Actually, sleepin' in my office is not recommended on account of there bein' no litter box in there.   What's more, once the door is closed, access to the kitchen is lost which means, no snacks.  I do enjoy a midnight snack but figured I could forgo late-night snackin' on this one occasion.

Anywho...  sometime durin' the night, my tummy felt a little queasy and decided to act up like an actin' troupe doin' improvisational juggling gymnastics and you guessed it...  I threw up.

By mornin', I was feelin' fine.  I managed to enjoy my regular breakfast and perform my ritual mornin' garden inspection all before headin' back into my office to check my mail, visit with pals on Twitter and Facebook and finally, do a little work on my blog.

That was when Peep #1 called out to me sayin', "Nissy, I need to check my e-mail before you start blogging."   She sat down at my desk, swung her legs around the chair and emitted a loud cry. "Ewww!" could be heard throughout the land.  Did you hear it? Yeah, I'm bettin' you did.  MOUSES!

I looked at the peep.  The peep looked at me.  "Yeah, I threw up last night, Peepers.  Did I forget to mention that?" I asked, scratchin' behind my ear.  "Why did you go and put your rear paw in it?  You should learn to be more careful," I explained.

I shall not repeat the dialogue which ensued for fear of my blog bein' beeped out of existence by the foul language police.  MOUSES!

And in other news...  I'm past 3700 likes on my Facebook page now.  Ever so excited 'bout that. I'm really hopin' to make it to 5000 by Christmas.  I wonder if I could ask for likes when I write to Santa.  Hmmm...  I wonder if he can arrange that.  Probably.  Santa can arrange most things when he puts his mind to it.

And I have over 4000 pals on Twitter.  That's pretty excitin'.  Perhaps I should ask Santa to help me with that, as well.  Help me reach 5000.  I'll have to think about that.

Of course, I'm still hopin' for a Senate appointment.  Feel free to mention that fact to Prime Minister Stephen Harper if you're ever talkin' or tweetin' with him.  I'm sure he'd appreciate the reminder. #Niss4Senate for sure!

Oh, and nosey-neighbour-cat's sister is headin' off to law school, today.  That's a good thing, I think. If I ever get that Senate appointment, I might find myself in need of a lawyer.  It seems that a lot of 'em, do.

And speakin' of politics, I hear that some peeps at Toronto City Hall are gettin' into the discussion 'bout changin' the wordin' of our National Anthem.  Some peeps don't like the fact that it uses the word, "sons," thereby excludin' all the daughters.  What about the cats?

I asked Peep #1 what she thought about this.  As one of those daughters, I figured she'd have an opinion about it but I was wrong.  Peep #1 said, "Frankly, my dear Nissy, I don't give a mouse." Scratch that.  Actually, she just said she couldn't care less as she had bigger fish to fry.

I said in reply, "Fish?  Really?  You're fryin' fish?  Pass a plate on over to me, would ya?"  I never did get any of that fish.  MOUSES!

And the peep planted more plumeria seed.  Guess she did that instead of fryin' the fish.

But will the woman never learn?  Rockies are wreakin' havoc on the plumies she has and she goes and plants more seed.  Honestly, I've gotta wonder 'bout my peep.

On the other paw, I'm hard at work developin' a new feature for my blog. That's right, I have somethin' new in the works.  Unfortunately, there's somethin' else in those works, pluggin' them up.

You see, I'm havin' a tough time figurin' out how to make the technical stuff for this feature work.  I sure could do with some better IT support, you know? Peep #1 is pretty much useless and, I'm afraid, she's all I've got.  MOUSES!

Well that's all the news for today.  I think I've pretty much covered everything.  Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go see if the peep ever caught any of those bigger fish and if so, I'm gonna get her to fry some of 'em up.  I think she can probably handle that.