that's pretty rude

You heard what I said there, Peepers.  I said, THAT'S PRETTY RUDE.

MOUSES!

Although truth be told, there was nothin' pretty about it.

MOUSES!

On the other paw, there was me, and I'm pretty.  Well, handsome is the better word.  After all, I am a MANcat, you see.

MOUSES!

Now where was I?  Ah yes, I was tellin' you how you were rude.

Peepers; You. Were. Rude.  Your behaviour was rude.  You were behaving rudely, ol' peep.  You were bein' RUDE.  Are you gettin' the drift there, Peepers?  You catchin' on to what I'm sayin'?  Need I say it once more?

YOU. WERE. RUDE.

MOUSES!

And your point would be, Peepers?  How does a cat bein' able to look at a queen have anythin' to do with you starin' at me?  I mean, first of all, you're not a cat.  You're not even close.  You're nothin' more than a peep.  And secondly, you're not a queen.  You're not a princess, either.  At least I don't think you're any kinda royalty.  You have a crown or somethin' stashed under the nightstand or in a kitchen cupboard there, Peepers?

BwahahahahahahahaHA...  Sometimes I crack myself up.  As if kings and queens were in the habit of hiding the royal jewels under bedroom furniture and in kitchen cupboards and stuff.  Mouses, I'm one funny cat.

THAT'S FUNNY AS IN HA-HA, PEEPERS.  NOT FUNNY AS IN STRANGE.

Like I said before, you're so rude.

But back to the topic at paw.  You, Peepers, were staring at me.  That's right.  I saw you staring at me out of the corner of my eye.  You, a peep, staring at me.  Me, a cat.  And not just any cat, either.  ME, Seville the Cat.

And as a cat, I don't like bein' stared at.  We cats generally don't.  ESPECIALLY not by peeps.

IT'S RUDE.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin' there, Peepers.  You're thinking 'bout how I, Seville the Cat, am so irresistibly charming and handsome, you can't help but stare at me.

WELL GET OVER IT PEEPERS 'cause like I said, I don't like bein' stared at.  It's RUDE.

MOUSES!

What's more, I'm gettin' tired of hearing 'bout how my irresistible charm is the reason you can't keep your paws off me and are always pickin' me up and givin' me kisses and stuff.

Like your bad behaviour is somehow MY fault.

Which it's not.

MOUSES!

But back to how you are rude.  Peepers, there's no doubt about it.  You are one rude peep, for sure.  Sittin' there on the chesterfield, gawkin' and starin', and starin' and gawkin', at ME.  So please go back to your knittin' and your TV watchin' and keep your eyes OFF me.

MOUSES!

Oh Peepers....

OH PEEPERS...

PEEPERS!

Peepers, I've been sittin' here on the chesterfield for like five whole minutes, and not once have you looked over at me to see if I was okay or if I was in need of a cuddle or chin scritch or tummy rub.  Not once.  Not once, I tell you.  Not even once!

Now you're bein' RUDER than rude.  NOW YOU'RE IGNORING ME.

MOUSES!

a cat can look at a queen

A CAT CAN LOOK AT A QUEEN

And your point would be, Peepers?

And FYI ya ol' peep, YOU ain't no queen.

MOUSES!

Gosh darn it, when a kitty like me starts usin' double negatives and imaginary words like ain't, you KNOW a kitty must have his knickers all knotted, for sure.

Not that I wear knickers, but you know, it's an expression of sorts.

MOUSES!

So why do I have imaginary knotted knickers, you ask?

Good question.  And for that excellent question of yours, I have an equally excellent answer, for sure.

Just give me a second to think about it.

Now why was I... ?

Oh yeah, now I remember.

MOUSES!

So this morning, sometime between my breakkies and elevenses, I caught Peep #1 looking at me.

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?

MOUSES!

There she was, staring.  Staring at me.  ME!

MOUSES!

Well right away I knew somethin' was up.  Somethin; sinister, no doubt.  Odds were, she was secretly planning and plotting, and plotting and planning, and planning and...

Well odds were, she was thinking about doing something untoward, TO ME.

You know, like clipping my claws, or somethin' like that.

MOUSES!

But I, being the dignified kitty I am, held my head high, looked her straight in the eye, and said...

STOP LOOKING AT ME!

And that, my friends, was when the peep came up with the line, A cat can look at a queen, you know.

What the mouses does THAT have to do with anything?

Firstly, I'm not a queen.  A king maybe, sure, but I'm certainly not a queen.

And secondly, as much as she might want to BE one, the peep is most definitely NOT a cat.

Not even close.

I mean...

Well...

Well I mean, the peep is...

The peep is nothing more than a...

A PEEP!

MOUSES!

a cat can look at a peep

Whatcha doin' there, Peepers?  How come you're lookin' at me like that?

Because I'M lookin' at you, you say?  Your excuse is, you're simply lookin' at me back?

Hmmm....

First of all, there, Peepers - I, Seville the Cat, am a cat.  Kinda self-explanatory, that.  At least I would think.  You know, on account of cat bein' right there in my name at all, and...

Well I'm gettin' to that.  MOUSES!

Thing is, like I was sayin' before bein' so rudely interrupted: I'm a cat.  And CATS are allowed to look at peeps any time they please.  You've never heard how a cat can look at a queen?  Well that's 'cause they're cats.  And if a cat can look at a queen, a cat can most CERTAINLY look at a peep.

Peeps, on the other paw...  Well peeps can't just go 'round lookin' at queens and kings and things.  A peep directs an unsavoury glance toward a king or a queen, and a peep might just find herself thrown into a dungeon or somethin' like that.

Just pointin' that out to you, Peepers, in case you ever get an inkling to go gawkin' at Her Majesty the Queen.

MOUSES!

But gettin' back on topic here.  Like I said before, a CAT can look at a queen.  And if a cat can look at a queen, I CAN GUARANTEE YOU, a cat can look at a peep.  And I, Seville the Cat, am all cat.

MOUSES!

Well I'm just gettin' to that!

Boy-oh-boy, a kitty can't even finish a sentence 'round here without bein' interrupted and stuff.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, LIKE I WAS SAYIN', a cat has every right to look at a peep if said cat wishes to do so, BUT...

But I wasn't even lookin' at you in the first place.

*furiously shakes head in denial*

No sirree.  I, Seville the Cat, was lookin' at your yarn.

MOUSES!

Now did I SAY I was gonna grab hold of your yarn and start slobberin' all over it and stuff?  Did I?  DID I?

Not that I wasn't intendin' to do exactly that, BUT...

But did I SAY I was gonna do somethin' like that?

Or are you just jumpin' to conclusions?

And speakin' of jumpin', we cats are better at THAT than peeps, too.

Just sayin'...

MOUSES!

NO...  No, we're not better at jumpin' to conclusions than peeps.  We're better at jumpin', in general.  You might wanna keep that in mind if you think that by sittin' on that there chesterfield, your yarn is out of my reach.

MOUSES!

Peepers, Peepers, Peepers...  Whatever makes you think I wouldn't be better at knittin' than you?  Remember how I'm a cat?  Well we cats are better at almost everythin' you peeps can do.

Like what, you ask?

Well...

Well like yarn work, for starters.  Yeah, workin' with yarn.  We cats don't need no stinkin' knittin' needles to play with a stupid ol' ball of yarn.  Why, we cats are perfectly capable of playin' with yarn without a single knittin' needle in sight.  And that's somethin' a peep simply cannot do.

Yeah, yeah...   Peeps do do that cat's cradle thingamajig with strings and things, but...

But did you notice how it's called a CAT'S cradle, and not a peep's cradle?  Huh?  HUH?  Well, DID YOU?

MOUSES!

You're still not convinced of my yarn work superiority, huh?

Hmmm...

Well then why don't you let me show you?  Let me prove to you my infinite superiority.  Here, paw me over that ball of yarn, and...

What, you can't bring yourself to share your stupid ol' ball of yarn with the one and only SEVILLE THE CAT?

For mousin' out loud.

What a selfish, selfish, SELFISH peep you are.

You're a real YARN hog, for sure.

And did I happen to mention you were selfish?

MOUSES!

they've GOT to be kiddin'

They've got to be kiddin'.

There's NO WAY this can be true.

This has gotta be FAKE news, for sure. MOUSES!

Uh-huh.  Yeah.  Uh...  Ummm...  Eh?

Well I'll be...

MOUSES!

Accordin' to all my many sources, this comin' Saturday is...

Wait for it...

World Naked Gardenin' Day.

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?

MOUSES!

I'm tellin' ya, as if peeps don't get into enough trouble already, now they have a World Naked Gardenin' Day.  A day for gardenin', naked?  A day for gettin' naked, and gardenin'?  A DAY FOR...

MOUSES!

What WILL they think of next.

Or maybe...  Maybe the problem is, they're not actually thinkin' at all.

Typical peep behaviour, for sure.  MOUSES!

You know, once, way back when, I accidentally walked into the bathroom when a peep was steppin' into the shower and let me tell you, my friends...

...THERE ARE SOME THINGS A KITTY CAN NEVER UNSEE.

It's 'cause of stuff like this that bathroom doors have locks.  And believe-you-me, locks on bathrooms doors are meant to be used, for sure.

It's bad enough that a kitty has to be careful when walkin' into a bathroom, but now a kitty has to watch out for naked peeps out in the garden, too?

When will the craziness end?  MOUSES!

And I have a question.  Will all those naked peeps runnin' around neighbourhood gardens in all their nakedness, remember to wear their sunscreen. 'Cause seriously, my friends, if not, they could be gettin' sunburns in places where normally, the sun just isn't supposed to shine.

And how 'bout straw hats?  Are they allowed to wear those?  You know, to protect themselves from gettin' wrinkles on their faces and stuff, although truth be told, there isn't a straw hat big enough to protect 'em from gettin' wrinkles...  You know...  Elsewhere. MOUSES!

Hehehehehee...

I just thought of somethin'.  If the first Saturday of May is World Naked Gardening Day, is the first Sunday in May, World Poison Ivy Treatment Day?  'Cause I'm thinkin' there will be more than a few peeps in need of a full body treatment, for sure.

And what about poison oak?

AND THEN THERE ARE NETTLES.

You know, once, way back when, before I was even born, Peep #1 ran through a patch of raspberry canes with her shorts on.

Yeah, stupid, I know.  But what do you expect from a peep?

But my point is, at least she was wearin' SOMETHIN'.  Imagine runnin' through a patch of raspberry canes with nothin' on at all?

MOUSES!

And what if a bird flyin' overhead decides to... You know...  Do what birds so often do?  The peeps won't have any protection at all.

And what if it rains?  Are umbrellas allowed?  Of course, gardenin' while holdin' an umbrella is not the easiest of things to do in the first place.  I would imagine that naked gardenin' while holdin' an umbrella is even harder to do.

I just thought of somethin'.

WILL THERE BE NAKED GARDENING TOURS?

And I thought squirrels were crazy.  Clearly, the peeps have out-squirrelled the squirrelliness of the squirrelliest of squirrels, for sure.

MOUSES!

Makes a kitty wonder why all the peeps in the world haven't all been locked up by now.  You know, for their own good.  To protect 'em from themselves and stuff.  Stuff like sunburns and poison ivy and poison oak.

BUT OH NO...  Peeps have got to be a allowed to be peeps, and lettin' them loose on the world is all part of their bein'...  You know...  PEEPS.

It's like peeps think they are cats or somethin'.  Just 'cause a cat can walk around in the garden wearin' nothin' but his natural furs, doesn't mean peeps can do so, too.  I mean, a cat can look at a queen.  Peeps stare too hard at the Queen and they might be gettin' a visit from the Royal Guard. MOUSES!

But back to this naked gardenin' business at paw.

Listen up all you peeps out there. DON'T YOU COME CRYIN' TO ME ON SUNDAY WHEN YOU'RE COVERED IN POISON OAK AND HAVE A SUNBURN IN PLACES WHERE THE SUN SIMPLY ISN'T SUPPOSED TO SHINE.  MOUSES!

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

And in other news...

Reports are comin' in from all four corners of the world.  Cats have been buying RECORD NUMBERS of flashy boxes, smart phones and other recording devices, preparing to take pictures of sunburned, poison ivy stricken peeps.

MOUSES!

that feeling

You ever get that feelin'? You know the one.  That feelin' that someone is watchin' you.  Maybe even starin' at you. Yeah, that's the one.

Well I get that feelin' all the time.  And when I say all the time, I mean, ALL THE TIME.  Why just a couple days ago, my second nap of the afternoon was totally ruined when I sensed that someone was watchin' me.  Starin' at me.  Woke me right up, right there, and right then. MOUSES!

So I opened my eyes and what did I see?  Peep #1.  Figures.  MOUSES!

Yeah, Peep #1 thinks she's entitled to look at me as much as she likes.  She says she can't help it. She says it's my own fault.  She says it's my own fault for bein' so cute, you see.

Well let me tell you somethin':  I CAN'T HELP BEIN' CUTE!  It just comes to me naturally. MOUSES!

But the night before last, I got Peep #1 back.

Oh yeah.

So the peep was lyin' there, sound asleep, when somethin' got her to wake up.  I'm not quite sure what that somethin' was but it might - MIGHT - have had somethin' to do with a certain noise made by a certain marmalade cat.

Anyway...

So the peep was lyin' there, sound asleep.  Then she woke up.  And when she opened her eyes, what did she see?  She saw me.  MOUSES!

There I was, as good as gold...

And when I say I was as good as gold, I quite literally mean as good as gold, on account of my, firstly, bein' very good and secondly, my orange fur bein' golden orange in colour and uh...  um...

Now where was I?  Oh yeah.

Anyway...

So there I was, starin' at the peep.  Just starin' at her. Starin'!  Like she does to me.  MOUSES!

Well apparently, accordin' to the peep, wakin' up to find me starin' at her is unnerving.

NOW SHE KNOWS HOW I FEEL.  MOUSES!

I figure that if a cat can look at a queen, said cat can most certainly look at their peep.

Of course, the jury is still out on whether or not peeps may stare at their cats.

Actually, that's not true.  The jury came back on that one and they decided that it is rude for a peep to stare at a cat without the cat's written permission.  Written.  As in written on paper, and not some stupid rumour or heresay or anythin' else like that.  MOUSES!

And speakin' of stuff that was written...

Way back when, some peep wrote a nursery rhyme statin' that a cat went all the way to London to look at the Queen.  This peep also made mention of mice.  Or a mouse.  One little mouse, I do believe.  One little mouse who was under a chair and since it was the Queen's chair, I'm thinkin' it was actually a throne and...

Hmmm...

Only throne we have at my house is the one in the bathroom and it's not so much a throne as it is a...  Well...  You know...  A toilet.

Plus, no mice live under there.  MOUSES!

But that begs the question...

How come peeps get thrones and cats get litter boxes?  I mean, if a cat can scare a wee little mouse sittin' under the Queen's chair, aka throne, aka toilet, SURELY said cat shouldn't have to do his or her business in a plastic litter box.  After all, I...  uh...  um...

Now where was I again?

Oh yeah.

The thing is, no cat should ever be subjected to a peep starin' at him so much that the starin' wakes said cat up from his afternoon nap.  MOUSES!