stupid peep

Stupid peep.

MOUSES!

HEY PEEPERS!  PEEPERS!

Are you deaf, woman?

PEEPERS!!!

Don't give me that look.  What did I say?

Well if you'd been payin' attention the FIRST time I called out your name, I wouldn't have had to have been yellin', now would I.

Not a question.  Statement of fact.

MOUSES!

What?

Oh yeah, I had somethin' to say.  And believe-you-me, that somethin' is super duper important, for sure.

So anyway...

So anyway Peepers, you went and hung that bird feeder up way, way, WAY too high.

You know the one.  The red one.  The one hangin' above the railin' on the veranda.

Why?  Why do I say it's too high?

Well...

Well Saffy Saffron Sassifras was watchin' some birdies flittin' about out there yesterday afternoon.  Why they were flittin' in this heat, I don't know, but that's birds for you, I guess.

MOUSES!

But anyway...

But anyway, Saffron was watchin' them birdies and one of 'em flew right over to the feeder and sat on its edge.  And no sooner did he - or she, I didn't ask - land on the feeder, but Saffy was off like a flash.  Why Saffy was runnin' and jumpin' in this heat, I don't know, but that's a Saffy for you, I guess.

MOUSES!

But like I was sayin'...

Like I was sayin', Saffy jumped up onto the railin' with a mind to catchin' that birdie, but do you know what he found out?

Well DO you, Peepers?  DO you?  Do you know what my brother Saffy Saffron Sassifras found out?

Don't bother answerin', ol' peepsqueak of mine, for I shall be happy to give you the answer:  SAFFRON DISCOVERED THAT YOU, PEEPERS, HUNG THAT BIRD FEED UP WAY, WAY, WAY TOO HIGH.

No way, no how, can a kitty reach a birdie sittin' on a feeder hangin' up that high.

Not even when said kitty is up on the railin'.

Note to self: order another kitty-friendly stepladder on-line.  Last one mysteriously disappeared.

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.

that feeling

On Christmas Day, I looked out the livin' room window and...

...and I got all warm and fuzzy inside.

NO...  I was not into the nip.

Okay, so I WAS into the nip, I HAD BEEN into the nip, and I was plannin' on continuing TO BE into the nip for the rest of the day, but...

...but it wasn't the nip that was givin' me that warm and fuzzy feelin' inside.

MOUSES!

You see, I was feelin' all warm and fuzzy inside watchin' the little chickadees flit here and there on the veranda, eating their fill of the seeds in the bird feeders Rushy and I got Peep #2 for Christmas, and knowin' we were instrumental in makin' sure those cute little birdies had full tummies on Christmas day.

MOUSES!

That's right, Rushy and I gave the second peep a couple bird feeders for Christmas, and Peep #1 - AKA Peepers - agreed to be responsible for keepin' the feeders full  You know, she agreed on account of A, our kitty paws not bein' great with pryin' open bird feeders and filling 'em up with seeds; and B, little birdies often get nervous when they see a kitty like me fiddling with their dining room table.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, everythin' was fine and dandy, and goin' all tickety-boo...

...on Christmas Day.

Yup, ON CHRISTMAS DAY, I watched the little birdies eatin' their fill, and got all warm and fuzzy inside.

That was CHRISTMAS DAY.

MOUSES!

The next day, I got myself into position in the big livin' room chair next to the window, and waited for the warm and fuzzies to start, when...

When nothin'.  Nothin' at all.  Absolutely bloomin' NOTHIN'.

MOUSES!

And the next day...

The next day, no birdies came to visit the feeders, either.  Not one!  I never saw one, never heard one, never even got a letter.

MOUSES!

And the day after that?  Yesterday?

SAME THING.

MOUSES!

The birdies have never returned.  Not even for a snack, never mind a meal.  Not even for a morsel!

Clearly, the peep's culinary efforts aren't up to the standards of birds.  CLEARLY, the peep's cookin' is NOT for the birds, after all.  CLEARLY, the peep's kitchen prowess is...  Well...  SUCKY TIMES TWO.  Maybe even a hundred.

MOUSES!

Now I ask you:  HOW HARD CAN IT BE TO OPEN A BAG OF BIRD SEED?  HOW HARD?  Are there other peeps out there who get failin' grades when it comes to preparation of meals for birds?  ARE THERE?  Or is it just MY peep who totally sucks?  Times two.  Probably a hundred.

Seriously, I'm lookin' for answers here, my friends.  Inquirin' minds are NEEDIN' to know.  'CAUSE SERIOUSLY, if ol' Peepers doesn't get her act together and learn how to do this bird feedin' business better, the birdies out there are gonna starve themselves to death!

And any chance of my havin' more warm and fuzzy feelings is gonna fly right out the window with 'em.  Or not with 'em.  You know, 'CAUSE THE BIRDIES AREN'T THERE.

MOUSES!