show some respect

You ever notice...

You ever notice how peeps, BEIN' PEEPS, show us kitties absolutely no respect?

And when I say no, I mean no as in a nothin' nadda nincompoop kinda way.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, there I was, mindin' my own business, havin' a little nap on the floor next to Peep #1's feet, when all of a sudden...

When all of a sudden, I smelled somethin' kinda funky, in an icky, stinky kinda way.

Of course, I immediately thought my sister, Mason, must have used the litter box 'cause uh...  You know...  Mason does kinda have stinky poo.

MOUSES!

But no, Mason was lyin' there on the floor next to me, sound asleep.  I knew she was sleepin' on account of her snorin'.  And I knew she was not the source of the smell as not even Mason can stink up a litter box without first visitin' it.

MOUSES!

So I gave the air another sniff, and realised the smell I was smellin' wasn't actually that kinda smell after all.

It was more like...

Hmmm...

It was more like...

Valerian?

MOUSES!

Well at the thought of gettin' my paws on some valerian root, I immediately perked up my ears.  I perked up my nose, too, and I started sniffin' some more.  I sniffed all about!  And I looked about, too, but for the nine lives of me, there wasn't a sign of valerian root anywhere to be found.

Except for the smell...

MOUSES!

It was at that point when I rolled onto my back, givin' the peep better access to my tummy.  You know, to give it a good rub with her foot.

I do so enjoy a good tummy rub.  Don't you?

And oddly enough, that's when I smelled the valerian root once more.

Where oh where oh where could it be?

MOUSES!

And THAT'S when it occurred to me.

THAT'S when I remembered.

THAT'S WHEN I REALISED...

That's when it dawned on me that valerian root smells like...

STINKY FEET.

MOUSES!

"Hey Peepers!" I cried.  "Show some respect for the cat, would ya?  GET YOUR ICKY OL' MOUSED-UP STINKY FEET OUTTA MY FACE, AND..."

Hmmm...

"Wait a minute, there, Peepers.  Hold off on that last order.  On second thought, get those feet of yours back rubbin' my tummy, 'cause you know what?  You know that smell of your stinky ol' feet?  Turns out, to a cat who likes the valerian root, that's not such a bad smell, after all."

MOUSES!

a rose by any other...

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

Who. The Mouses. Cares.

SERIOUSLY.  Who cares?  It's actually not a question.  It's more like a statement, for sure.

I mean...

Well, I mean...  I mean, it's like this:  Roses smell okay, I guess.  They smell okay if you like that kinda thing.  If you like the smell of roses, that is.

But me?  Well, I'm a cat.  And cats like other smelly things.

Actually, that didn't come out quite right.  What I meant to say was, we cats like way better smells than rose-like stinks.

MOUSES!

Had he been smart, that Shakespeare dude would have written about catnip.

The nip by any other name would smell as sweet, for sure.

Now THAT'S a quote worth repeatin'.

MOUSES!

But you know peeps: They NEVER makin' the effort to write about the important things in life.

MOUSES!

Now OBVIOUSLY, nip is one of the best smellin' things in the world.  It just is.  But there are some other things that smell pretty good, too.

Valerian root, for one.

Oohhh...  And stinky feet!

Okay, so those two smells are really one and the same.  But it's a VERY GOOD smell, for sure.

MOUSES!

Peeps, on the other paw, are all messed up when it comes to smells.  They like smells like...  Well...

Well like stinky ol' ROSES, I guess.

And oranges.  My gosh, if there ever was a stinkier stink than that of an orange, it would be...

It would probably be a lemon.

MOUSES!

You know, just the other day, Peep #1 complained 'bout my havin' tuna breath.  Can you believe it?

Yeah, that's right.  The one who thinks nothin' of stickin' her nose in a rose, complained about the smell of some tuna on my breath.  Like I said, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?

Never have I heard such nonsense comin' from a lemony-orange, rose-sniffin'...

Well actually, Peep #1 says stupid stuff all the time, so perhaps I have heard such nonsense before.  But this incident made it onto the list of TOP TEN stupid things she has said, for sure.

MOUSES!

Let's just say, when it comes to smells, peeps have very little taste.

It is a generally accepted fact that we cats have WAY BETTER sniffin' abilities than peeps.  But the truth is, we have more than that.  It's not just that we can smell stuff better.  We also desire to smell better stuff.  Better stuff like nip and Valerian - ie. stinky feet - and uh...  Tuna.  MOUSES!

And actually, we, ourselves, smell better, too.  I mean, we cats smell great!  If we've been rollin' around in the nip, we might smell like nip, and if we've been rubbin' up against some Valerian root, we might be so fortunate as to smell like stinky feet.

But peeps?  HA!  They go 'round sprayin' themselves with bottles of stink, and end up smellin' like roses.

MOUSES!

And don't even get me started on that stinky, minty-fresh toothpaste they use.

Complainin' about my tuna breath, indeed.  I'd take tuna breath over peppermint, any day, for sure.

MOUSES!

The only part of a peep that ever smells decent is their feet, and ONLY 'cause the smell is often reminiscent of the heavenly perfume of Valerian root.

We cats, however, smell good from the tips of our ears, to the ends of our tails, and I HAVE PROOF of that, for sure.

Why, just the other day, my brother Anderson was tryin' to sniff my butt.

I, of course, gave him a good smacky-paw to the face, sending him reeling.

Okay, so MAYBE I actually fizzed a little and ran behind the couch, but it's the same thing, really.

REALLY!

Okay, so maybe not.  But my point is, you never see peeps sniffin' each others' butts, do you?

Thought not.

And that, my friends, is a good thing, 'cause in all honestly, no one ever wants to go 'round sniffin' rose-scented butts.

MOUSES!

Mr. Stinkybums

Yesterday morning, the second peep was searching, high and low, all over the kitchen.  Searching for orange juice.

Now I'm not really into orange juice, myself.  Nor am I into oranges, what with their being citrus and my being a cat and cats not liking citrus and all BUT I was somewhat amused by the search for this long lost glass of juice.  Peep #2 claimed that orange juice had been poured but there was not a drop of the orange stuff in sight.

That was until...

Until Peep #2 came across a bowl of cereal sitting on the kitchen island, filled to the brim with...  you guessed it... ORANGE JUICE.  MOUSES!

Raisin bran with orange juice is, I am told, an unacceptable combination for peeps.

But boy-oh-boy is it funny.  I laughed so hard I nearly coughed up a fur ball.  Peep #1 was laughing, too.  She laughed so hard that for a moment, I thought she had turned into a lion or something.  Yup, she was roaring with laughter, for sure.

In case you were wondering, cereal is supposed to eaten with milk.  MOUSES!

Oh gosh, I love milk.  Not allowed the stuff, though, on account of my lactose intolerance.  I quite like the cat milk variety but we don't always have it on paw.  The peeps really should be better at keeping a good supply of it in the house.

It's really not fair.  My two marmie brothers and I are all lactose intolerant so none of us are allowed milk or cream although as you may know, I have been known to scarf down a piece of cheese every now and then.  Andy likes cheese, too.  Rushton isn't into the stuff.

You may remember that due to Anderson's lactose intolerance, he was knighted Sir Fartsalot. MOUSES!

Andy claims he was knighted by Queen Elizabeth, herself, but I'm not so sure about that.  I think it was Peep #1 who gave him the name...  Title...  Whatever.

The other day, the first peep gave Andy another name...  Mr. Stinkybums.  She said it right to his face and everything.  Kind of rude if you ask me although, truth be told, kind of true, too. MOUSES!

Then yesterday, I overheard the peeps talking.  I wasn't supposed to be listening in but being a curious cat, I did and I overheard a peepsified conversation.  Word on the street is that first thing tomorrow morning, Peep #1 is calling my doctor's office to make an appointment for Sir Fartsalot - A.K.A. Mr. Stinkybums - to visit the groomer.  He's going to be having a bath.  Andy isn't aware of this bathing plan so don't tell him, okay?  I'm thinking he's not going to like it.  Peep #1 told Peep #2 that Andy will feel way better after he's all nice and clean and sweet smelling and everything but even she is scared to let him in on the secret.

The peep shouldn't be scared but I can tell you who should.  The person who should be scared is the person who will be giving Andy that bath!  Have you seen the size of that boy's paws?  You'll notice that neither of my peeps volunteered for the job.

And if I overheard correctly, Andy is going to be loosing a little of the floof in his tail region, too.  He wears his fur, pantaloon style, if you know what I mean but all that excess floof appears to be part of his problem.  MOUSES!

Oh my gosh...  I just HAVE to tell you what happened.

When the peeps first moved into this house, before I was even born, there was a pool surrounded by a deck.  The peeps never used the pool and decided to get rid of it, a few years ago but peep stuff happened and it was only this year that they took action.  Yeah, I know, I've got a couple of procrastinating peeps.

Anyway, long tail short.  Sorry about that.  I mean, long tale short.  No, sorry.  Long story short, as of last week, the pool is now gone.  The deck is still there but the pool disappeared into nothingness.  It just disappeared into thin air like magic.  Yup, it's true.  One moment it was there and the next moment - about ten days later - it was gone.  MOUSES!

But the big news isn't the magical disappearing act.  The big news is that where that icky old pool once stood is now the most amazing, incredible, too-good-to-believe, mind-bogglingly huge, giant sandbox.

I took one look at that amazing sandbox and said to the peeps... WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG???

To think that the world's most incredible sandbox was lying there, hidden away underneath that pool for all those years.

Oh gosh, it really is fantastic.  Mason and I have both been frolicking about in the sand.  Mason likes to run and pounce on the sand, catching imaginary sand monsters or something.  Personally, I like to roll in it.  I roll this way and that until I'm covered with the stuff.  Then I come inside the house and give myself a good shake. It's nice to share the sand with the peeps.

And no, Mr. Stinkybums isn't allowed in our new sandbox until he has been all destinkafied by the groomer.  MOUSES!

Now from what I've heard, Peep #1 is planning on planting a garden in our new sandbox.  As you can imagine, I'm not too thrilled with this idea.  It's pretty much perfect just the way it is and clearly does not require any gardening interference on her part.

Of course, is she were to plant nip...

By the way, OUR NIP PLANTS ARE GROWING!  They're not very big yet but they most definitely are growing.  Didn't know the peep had it in her, to be honest.  She proved me wrong.  She actually can grow something worth growing.  MOUSES!

The valerian is growing, too.  Right now, the plants are blooming but the flowers are pretty stinky, if you ask me.  The peep seems to like how they smell.  Like baby powder, she says.  To each his own, I suppose.

Personally, I'm waiting until the peep harvests the valerian root.  Funny thing is, Peep #1 thinks the roots of the valerian are stinky whereas I think they smell great.  Peep wouldn't know a good stink if it rose up and slapped her in the face.  MOUSES!

You know, some peeps say that valerian root smells like stinky feet.  I wonder if that's why my sister Mason has such a fascination with the peeps' shoes.  Just saying...

Mr. Stinkybums has not yet encountered the root of the valerian. Wait 'til he tries it!  He's going to love it, for sure.  Currently however, he's having difficulty getting the stench of those baby powder-scented flowers past his nose just as the peeps are having difficulty getting the smell of Mr. Stinkybums past theirs and as I, Seville, am have difficulty getting the smell of orange juice infused raisin bran past mine.

Now the scent of nip flowers, on the other paw, is really quite delightful.  MOUSES!

nippy fresh breath

Hey everybody!  Sivvers here...

Gosh, this blogging stuff is really hard. Nissy made it look so easy but let me tell you, it's not.  It's darned tootin' difficult!  Firstly, you have to come up with a topic and then...  Then you have to write about it!  MOUSES!

So this morning I was pulling my whiskers this way and that and getting my tail all in a dither, wondering what on earth I would write about.  I was at a loss.  I was beginning to think I had writer's block and wondering if that was anything like the crystals block - which I have had, twice, although nothing in the last couple of years thank goodnees but both times I did have them, I had to be hospitalised so I was hoping against all hope that writer's block was nothing like the crystals block because I really didn't want to go into hospital again. Whatever was blocking me, I was going to have to unblock myself.

Then it came to me.  NIP!

What better thing to write about than nip?

An Ode to the Nip...

Nah, I'm not really a poet although I did write that one poem way back when.  Remember that? Nissy told you all about it, I believe.  I wrote it after my first bout with the crystals.

Easy Peasy

The more I drink,
the more I pee.
The more I pee,
the easier it be.
Easy peasy.
That's the key!

Yeah, I wrote that poem way back when for Peep #1.  I gave it to her for Valentine's Day, I do believe.  Right after I peed on her.  Yup, that was the peeing on the peep incident to which I alluded in my last blog post.  The peeing on the first peep incident, to be exact.

So anyway, I hemmed and I hawed and then I hawed and I hemmed and then finally, I decided exactly what to do.  I decided that I'd leave the sonnets to Shakespeare and instead, write in regular old prose.

So I struck a pose!

Then I remembered the difference between prose and pose and realised that that one little letter 'r' made a world of difference, for sure, and got down to business.

NIP.

As many of you know, my late brother Nissy was a true connoisseur of the nip.  He was a bit of a nip expert, you see.  Actually, he was a bit of a niphead, too.

Knowing Nissy's political aspirations, I often wondered why Nissy didn't consider starting up his own political party.  The Nip Party...   Has a nice ring to it, don't you agree?  Of course, peeps might think it's the wrong kind of party or something, I suppose.  Guess that's why Nissy didn't want to do that.  He was one very wise kitty, for sure.

But just as my family and I will always love my brother Nissy, we will also always love the nip. Rest assured, nip will always be an important topic of conversation at my house and here on this blog, too.

And I actually have some important nip-related news.  At Christmas, Peep #1 finally broke down and admitted her lack of nip-growing skills.  Total disaster on the nip-growing front.  For years she has tried and for years she has failed.  Got to give her top grades for consistency even though it's a kind of consistency we can all certainly do without.

So anyway, the peep promised that she would give us a belated Christmas gift of nip plants as soon as the nurseries were open and sure enough, she kept her promise.  Last week, she arrived home one day with three lovely catnip plants.

Of course, I immediately checked out their providence as I remembered way back when, when Nissy had been fooled by a big old plant of lemon balm. It did look like nip, I'll grant you that. Looked a lot like nip, for sure.  But the smell...  The smell!  It was so gross.  It smelled of lemons!  MOUSES!

And then there was the Valerian.  You send a peep out for nip and what does she bring home?  VALERIAN!

Actually, I have to admit that I quite enjoyed the Valerian root.  Nissy wasn't into it.  Said it smelled like stinky feet. Guess it all depends upon whose feet you're used to sniffing.  MOUSES!

Well like I said, I checked out the plants the peep brought home and found them to indeed be nip. Three beautiful catnip plants.

The peep set them aside on the driveway, waiting to be planted over the weekend.  Silly peep.

So the very next morning, I went outside to check on the nip plants for Peep #1 and what did I find? Nothing but stubble!  Someone had found those three nip plants and mowed them down to the ground.  MOUSES!

No, it wasn't mice.  Wasn't slugs or other thugs, either.  It was a fur-sib, I think.  Of course, my brothers and sisters all denied any knowledge of the incident but I'm pretty sure I could detect a certain nippy freshness to Mason's breath.  Mason claimed she had used nip-flavoured toothpaste that morning but I don't think anyone has invented that yet.  The Peep should have installed surveillance cameras by those nip plants, for sure.

Well the remnants of the nip plants were indeed planted over the weekend and are now safe and sound in a cage.  That's right, they're caged.  Big old dog crate with the bottom sawed off is protecting them from becoming snacking material by any marauding cats.

And marauding fur-sibs, too.

You know, Nissy had been saving up his pennies...

Scratch that.  Nissy had been saving up his nickels and dimes - on account of the Canadian government getting rid of all the pennies - to invest in nip futures.  He said that nip futures were going to be THE NEXT BIG THING.  But like I told my sister Mason...  There can be no future in nip that has been nipped in the bud and that's a fact, for sure.

So anyway, that's all for today about the nip.  I'll be back again on Sunday.  Paws crossed there will be no nipping of the nip between now and then.  Got to give those plants a chance to grow. MOUSES!

interestin'...

So Jon Stewart is leavin' the Daily Show, huh? Interestin'...

What is even more interestin' is who will be his replacement and what is the most interestin' of all is why no one from the show has contacted me. I mean, who better to replace Jon Stewart than I, Nerissa the Cat?   Who wouldn't wanna see me on nightly TV?   MOUSES!

Now that bein' said, Jon Stewart is gonna be super hard to replace.  The man is in a league of his own, for sure.  No one - and when I say no one, I mean NO ONE, except possibly that Rick Mercer dude - has ever done the kind of stuff that Jon Stewart has done or at least if they have, I wasn't award of them doin' so which makes me kinda think that, like I said before, the man is in a league of his own.  Again I must say, MOUSES!

Of course, the man is not the King of the Run-on-Sentence but only one of us can be King and... Well..  That would be me.  I mean, I.  Hmmm..  Yup, I is exactly what I mean although it really does sound kinda weird, I'll give you that, for sure.

So if the powers-that-be are lookin' to find some peep to fill Jon Stewart's shoes, they're gonna have a tough time with that.  Even I would have an awfully tough time fillin' his shoes but you see, since I don't wear shoes, on account of my bein' a cat and all, I wouldn't even try.  I might try to walk in his pawprints or somethin' like that but I would never actually try to fill his shoes.

My sister, Mason, might wanna try that though.  Fill his shoes, I mean.  Mason is into shoes. She's always tryin' to play with the peeps' shoes.  Give her a pair of shoes and she'll stick her paws in 'em, stick her head 'em, chew on 'em, attack 'em and even possibly try to fling 'em across the room whereas I, Nerissa the Cat, am just not into that.

And speakin' of shoes...  My brother Seville has discovered Valerian root.  You ever try the stuff?  I don't like it myself.  Smells like stinky feet or at least, that's what they say.  Peep #1 grew some Valerian and I gave it a sniff but it did nothin' for me.  Seville, on the other paw, was right into it.  He found a root growin' out of the bottom of a pot and was on that root like nip on cheese or better yet, me on a nip mouse.  You give me a nip mouse and I'm gonna be on that, for sure.

Now of course, I have no idea whether or not Jon Stewart's shoes smell like Valerian root and therefore, like stinky feet but IF they do, Seville would wanna try to fill 'em, for sure.  He'd be stickin' his head in those shoes and dreamin' of Valerian root.  You see, that's what cats like Seville do. MOUSES!

Once I came inside the house with stinky paws but it was a totally different kind of stink.  It happened last year, before Peep #1 went and ruined our outdoor loo by plantin' all those primroses in it.  Anywho...  There I was, diggin' in the loo when I accidentally dug in the wrong spot, diggin' up someone else's...  poo.

Diggin' in that exact spot was not a good idea, I can assure you.  Not that it actually was an idea. Wasn't done intentionally or anythin'.  I dug in the wrong spot totally by accident but let me tell you, I'll never do that again.  And the worst part was the embarrassment of the whole situation.  I had to ask Peep #1 to clean off my paws for me 'cause quite frankly, I wasn't touchin' that stuff,  myself. MOUSES!

But back to the topic at paw.  I can think of no valid reason why I, Nerissa the Cat, should not be offered the job of replacin' Jon Stewart on the Daily Show.  Can you?

Don't answer that.

But if your answer is no, you can go ahead and answer it all you like.

Normally I don't like the word no but I've found that if one words the question carefully enough, an answer of no can be kind of like the cat's meow.

And in other news, Valentine's Day is this weekend.  Yup, only a few days away so if you haven't made preparations, now is the time to prepare those preparations, for sure.

I've decided to break with tradition this year and give the peeps nothin' but love for Valentine's Day. In previous years, I've given Peep #1 stuff like a rose bush or a bottle of stink but those prezzies always came back to haunt me.  For instance, the potted rose I gave her a couple of years ago ended up occupyin' a sunpuddle in the sunroom.  It was a really good sunpuddle, too.  Can't tell you how much I missed lying in that sunpuddle on account of that stupid ol' rose bush sittin' there. Sittin' there in the middle of my favourite sunpuddle and tauntin' me.  MOUSES!  I am never makin' that mistake again.

And as for givin' the peep a bottle of stink...  Do you know what happens when your peep puts on that stinky stuff just prior to pickin' you up and givin' you a cuddle?  I can tell you exactly what happens.  You end up stinkin' of stink, too.

Now if someone were to invent nip perfume...

Hmmm....  I think I shall put inventin' nip perfume on my to-do list.  There's nothin' stinky 'bout nip stink and that's a fact, for sure.

And one last bit of news is that we have now officially run out of places to put any more snow so if any of you are talkin' with Mother Nature, please inform her that she has sent enough of the white stuff and is to send us no more.  I'm tired of walkin' through it and the peeps are tired of shovellin' it but most importantly, we've simply run out of room.

The weatherpeeps are threatening that there will be more white stuff arrivin' this Friday but if they're right, I'm gonna pack up all that snow and mark it with, "return to sender."  I've had it with the white stuff.  I'd say, "I've had it up to here," but quite frankly, I can't reach the 'here.'  I'd have to get the big ladder out of the garage to reach the 'here' in 'had it up to here' but I can't do that on account of the pile of white stuff, blockin' me from gettin' into the garage.  MOUSES!

So there you have it, my friends.  That's the news of the hour.  The news of the day.  The news of the week, for sure.  If I happen to hear from the Daily Show in the next day or two, I'll let you know. If not, I'll see on you Sunday.  Enjoy the rest of your week.  purrs

I have nip!

Nip farmin'...  HERE I COME.

That's right.  I have nip!

Santa was very good to us kitties on the nip front, this year.  There were nip mice and biff bags galore. You know what biff bags are, don't you?  They're little knitted bags containing nip that we cats can biff about. Thus the name, biff bags.  Of course, since they contain nip, we don't do a lot of biffin' with them. More slobberin' than biffin', really.  Nip is meant to be sniffed and licked and slobbered over...  not biffed.

Anywho...  Santa brought all of us cats toys with nip and so far, no one has peed on any of 'em. Yeah, it happens.  Not this year though and thank goodness for that.

But my brother, Seville, peed on the peep.  Yup, he peed on the peep, yesterday.  Actually, he sprayed her.  Yup, he sprayed Peep #1.  It did not go over well.  Guess he was lettin' her know she was his or somethin'.  Don't know what got into him.  The rest of us just rub up against the peeps' legs like normal cats do.  MOUSES!

But back to the nip.

Santa wasn't the only one bearin' nip, this year.  One of my amazin' bloggin' buddies sent me the most incredible nip that I have ever sniffed and believe you me, I, Nerissa the Cat, have sniffed some pretty fantastic nip in my time.  I'm not sure if I'm allowed to reveal my pal's name.  Might be a secret or somethin'.  But I sure do wanna thank him 'cause let me tell you, that nip is incredible stuff.  Mixed in with the nip is Valerian root and honeysuckle and a little cat mint, too.  It's heavenly. Mouses that stuff is good.

Peep #1 has promised to do us up some fabric crinkle toys with that special nip blend.  She's gonna do 'em up after the holidays are all over and things are gettin' back to normal.  As if my house is ever normal.  Excuse me while I drop everythin' and laugh myself silly for the next half-hour or so.   I swear, my peeps live in a constant state of delusion.  Deludin' themselves into thinkin' our house can be anythin' but confusing.  Delusional confusion is the normal state of affairs 'round here.  Yup, that's the normal state of affairs, for sure.

But once things are back to our normal state of delusional confusion, the peep is gonna do up those crinkle toys.  Gonna make one for my pal who sent me the special nip blend, too.  He's gonna love it 'cause you know, it's nip!

The peeps got us some nip, too.  Well...  sort of.

Under the Christmas tree, this year, I found a card from the peeps.  In that card was a promissory note for full-grown nip plants in the spring.  As soon as the nurseries open up for the season, Peep #1 is gonna head out and get us some nip plants.  Nip plants we can plant in the garden, allowin' us to grow our very own nip.

Guess the peep has given up on growin' the stuff from seed.  One dismal failure after another, that has been.  Don't know what her problem is.  The woman grows all sorts of stuff from seed.  Even things like plumeria and linden trees.

Of course, plumeria and linden trees are useless to me.  The only thing those plumies are good for is ten pin plumie bowlin' in the sunroom.  Pretty good game when the plants are small but the bigger they get, the harder it is to knock 'em down in their pots, if you know what I mean.

And linden trees!  Don't get me started on those.  Oh yeah, they look pretty, growin' out there in the garden and whatnot but there are no horizontal branches on those trees.  Totally useless for climbin'.  Totally useless, for sure.  MOUSES!

But give the peep a package of nip seed and you know what you get?  Nothin'.  Give her two packages of nip seed and do you know what you get?  Nothin' times two.  Give her three packages...   You get the picture, I am sure.  Doesn't matter how many times you multiply nothin' with somethin' you still end up with nothin'.  Again I must say, MOUSES!

This time, the peep is gettin' grown-up plants, already growin' and everythin'.  But with her track record on the nip growin' front, I don't think she can be trusted with those plants.  No, these plants will be cared for by none other than me.  I'm gonna be a nip farmer.

And remember how I asked Santa to bring Peep #1 a Growin' Nip for Dummies book for Christmas? Well that didn't happen.  Santa ran into a slight problem with that.  Apparently, the book on Growin' Nip for Dummies has not yet been written.  He told me I should write one myself.

And I was all prepared to write that book, Growin' Nip for Dummies, too.  I began with the title but then I thought... MOUSES! that can't be right.  What is the Claus insinuating 'bout me?

To tell you the truth, I don't think Santa was insinuating anythin' but still, the title of the book threw me for a bit of a loop.  It's all in how you say it, you see. It's a matter of interpretation.

Growin' Nip for Dummies...  Is it a book written so that peeps like my peep can grow nip?  Peeps who might have been exposed as dummies on the nip growin' front, before?  OR is it a book 'bout growin' nip that you will then give to dummies.  You know, nip FOR dummies.  MOUSES!

I, Nerissa the Cat, may be a lot of things but a dummy I am not.  No way, no how, can anyone call me that.  Gotta rework the title of my book, I think.  Probably a good idea, anyway.  That dummy franchise thing-a-ma-jig has already been taken.

NIP GROWIN': Dumbed Down for a Certain Incompetent Peep.  Kinda catchy, don't you think?

Anywho...  As soon as the nip plants are available in the spring, I'll be gettin' mine and I'll plant 'em and water 'em and feed 'em with...  Well actually, I'll supervise the peep doin' all that stuff.  I'm gonna be more of a gentleman nip farmer, if you know what I mean.

I'll supervise the peep while she plants 'em and waters 'em and feeds 'em with whatever nip plants like to eat.  I'm thinkin' it's not Fancy Feast or anythin' like that but whatever it is, it's gotta be good. Only the best for my nip plants, for sure.  Gotta make sure that the peep gives my nip plants the very best of care.

This is gonna be the start of a whole new career for me.  I've been savin' up my bottle money to invest in nip futures for what seems like forever.  I'm sure I've got lots of bottle money saved up in my froggy bank.

I know, most cats have piggy banks but long, long ago I made the mistake of sendin' the peep out to get me a piggy bank and instead, she came home with one that is most definitely not a pig but rather, a frog.  What a peep.

But whether it be a pig or a frog, it's still a bank.  And it's the bank containin' all my bottle money and my potential investment in nip futures.  I'm thinkin' that by growin' some nip myself...

Actually, I'm not sure what I'm thinkin'. I don't really think that's how these investment futures work.  I need to figure that one out.

But in the meantime, I'm gonna start up my nip farm.  With only a pawful of plants, it will be a rather small farm, at first.  Kinda piddly, actually.  But it's a start.  That's what's important.  My plants will grow and as they do, so will my farm.  My nip-growin' farm...  WONDERFUL.  Yup, nip farmin'...  HERE I COME.  It's gonna be amazin'.  Gonna be amazin', for sure.  MOUSES!

the root of the matter

About a month ago or so, the peeps had the driveway painted.

Yeah, I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin' that my peeps got out there and spray painted that ol' driveway in a bright yellow and blue checkerboard pattern, overlaid with purple and orange polka dots along with a few golden stars.  And that could have happened!  It was actually under consideration but I got a whiff of those plans of theirs and put the kibosh on 'em.  MOUSES!

Needless to say, the driveway was painted black.  Some sort of sealant, I understand. Somethin' to seal the driveway in and keep it from flyin' away or whatever driveways like to do.  Weird, I know. Welcome to my life.

Anywho...  In order to paint the driveway black, stuff that was on said driveway had to be moved.  Some of the things needin' to be moved were pots of plants.  Some of those plants were meant to be there and others were...  well...  there just were.  They just were there.  Goodness knows for what reason.  Peep never got around to plantin' them, I guess.  I don't think they were ever supposed to be sittin' on the driveway but they were so they needed movin'.

Two of the pots needin' to be moved had some valerian growin' in 'em.  Ever heard of the stuff?

I first encountered valerian, last year, when Ol' Peepers went shoppin' for nip and came home with valerian, also known as Valeriana officinalis but never known as the nip.  MOUSES!

At the time, I gave the plants a good sniff and explained to Peep #1 that the plants were not, in fact, nip.  They didn't look like nip, nor did they smell like nip.  Also, after sniffing 'em, I, Nerissa the Cat, was not nipped.  Again I say, MOUSES!

Peep #1 ignored me.  She said they were pretty.  Pretty?  Who cares about pretty when you're wantin' the nip?

Since then, the number of valerian plants in and about these parts has increased.  I must sadly report that the number of nip plants in the garden has not but that, my friends, is another post for another day.

While there is still a scarcity of nip plants, the valerian ones have been multiplyin', explainin' those two pots of the stuff that were sittin' on the driveway.

Now those two pots in question had been sittin' on that driveway for most of the summer.  They had been sittin' in that very same spot and some leaves had settled in and around them. Unbeknownst to the peep, the valerian plants had sent their roots out through the holes in the bottoms of those pots and into those leaves which were beginnin' to decompose.  When Peep #1 moved the pots, she dislodged said roots.

Bein' fairly unobservant 'cause, you know, she's just a peep, Peep #1 moved the pots of valerian and thought nothin' more of it.

Next thing we knew, Seville was on the scene.  Was it a bird?  Was it a plane?  NO, it was my brother and he was goin' insane!

That marmie brother of mine was right there, sniffin' out what needed to be sniffed.  It was like the valerian was callin' him or somethin'.  I looked at Seville and shook my head in dismay.  He was actin' like the valerian was nip.  MOUSES!

I remembered how Peep #1 had been ravin' about the scent of the valerian in the summer.  She had been stickin' her nose in the flowers and oohin' and ahhin' over, from what I could tell, pretty much nothin'.  It's not like it was nip.

The fact that the peep liked the smell of the valerian was inconsequential.  Peeps like all sorts of weird smells.  It takes a cat's educated nose to sniff out the good ones.

I pawed my way over to Seville to see just what was the attraction.  Seville was goin' nuts, rubbin' his cheek against one of those valerian roots protrudin' from the pot.  He looked like he was in Heaven.  Again, I shook my head in dismay.

"Smells like stinky feet!" Seville cried. "Niss, you have got to try this."

I stared at my brother in disbelief. Stinky feet?  MOUSES!

I then made a mental note to tell my sister, Mason, about the valerian roots. She has a thing for the peeps' shoes. I'm thinkin' there might be a connection.

Valeriana officinalis...  the official smell of stinky feet.  Again I must say, MOUSES!

As I, Nerissa the Cat, was not interested in immersing myself in the smell of stinky feet, I padded into my office and flipped on the ol' computer.  I needed to do a little research on this valerian plant.

What I found was shocking.  Surprisingly, this valerian stuff is sold to peeps.  Sold to peeps, for peeps.  Some sort of sleep aid or somethin'.

How odd.  Yes, I found it to be very odd that peeps would take the stuff to make 'em sleepy while my brother was outside, rollin' in it and gettin' nipped.

Then I thought about the fact that my true love, the one and only true nip, is also used by peeps in strange ways.  It's used to calm 'em.  It's true.  Peeps don't get nipped on the nip.  Never once have I seen my peeps nipped on the nip.  In fact, it has the opposite effect.  Peeps don't know what's good for 'em, you see.  Obviously, the same thing applies to this here valerian.

What's more, when Peep #1 was ravin' about the smell of the valerian, she was sniffin' the flowers. She was not rollin' around on the roots.  Looks like my peep is not a lover of the smell of stinky feet unlike my sister Mason and apparently, my brother Seville, too.  But then, we all know that peeps have strange senses of smell.  I mean, they even buy bottles of stink.  MOUSES!

Of course, seein' peeps rollin' around on the driveway, rubbin' their faces up against the roots of a valerian plant, would be quite a sight to see, for sure.  Perhaps their aversion to such an act is an aversion to the act itself and not the smell of the stinky feet.  I shall have to pay closer attention to my peeps and their interactions with their shoes.  I shall have to observe whether or not either of them likes to stick their nose in those shoes, as my sister Mason so loves to do.

I should clarify that Mason likes to stick her nose in the peeps' shoes. She doesn't stick her nose in her own shoes.  That's probably because Mason, bein' a cat, does not wear any shoes.  MOUSES!

Luckily for me, as we're headin' into the cooler weather of a Canadian fall and then, of course, winter, there will be ample opportunities to observe the peeps with their shoes.  Cooler weather usually brings the peeps into their indoor habitat where, quite often, lyin' about are shoes.

As for me, I, Nerissa the Cat, am still a lover of the one and only true nip.  Nothin' beats a good biff bag or nip mouse, filled with the nip.  The proper nip.  The nip of cats, everywhere.  Rest assured that when I write my letter to Santa, I shall be askin' for nip and NOT, my friends, the smell of stinky feet.  MOUSES!