"Because it's getting cold outside, Seville, and in case you hadn't noticed, there is no sun. The sky has clouded over." The peep narrowed her eyes, suspiciously. "Why don't you want me going into the kitchen?"
"Ummm... Because uh.... Because... Because it's... Uh... Because it's not dinnertime yet?" I answered. Sorta.
The peep narrowed her eyes even more. "You're up to something," she said. "Spit it out."
I obligingly coughed up a large hair ball. MOUSES!
"What the heck? What was that?" The peep squealed as a small dark grey somethin' flew right past her head.
I innocently looked about. "What was what?" I asked. "You seein' things again, there, Peepers? Maybe the cold has gotten to you. Why don't you come inside?" I stepped away from the door to the kitchen, allowin' Peep #1 to pass.
Just then, a loud crash come from the next room. "GOTTA RUN!" I cried, and disappeared into the family room. Moments later, I reappeared at the door. "Whatever you do, Peepers, don't come in here, okay? We'll talk later," and I turned, goin' back into the room.
"WHAT THE MOUSES IS GOING ON IN HERE?" The peep was standin' at the door to the family room, her hands on her hips and her mouth hangin' halfway to the floor.
"Nothin'," Mason, Andy, Rushy, and I all answered in unison. "Nothin'. Nothin' at all."
Once again, a dark grey object flew past the peep's head.
"Why do you ask?" I enquired. Innocently.
The peep's face turned three shades of purple.
Andy got up on his hind legs and leaned up against the coffee table. That lasted all of five seconds before one paw slipped and he fell flat on his face. The visitor who had been perched on the table just behind him, then fluttered up toward the ceiling fan.
"WHY THE MOUSES IS THERE A BIRD IN THE HOUSE?" the peep cried.
"Because the chicken told him not to cross the road?" I helpfully replied.
"This..." the peep fumed. "This is why you wouldn't let me into the kitchen? This is what you were hiding?"
"Oh my mouses!" I gasped. "Where are my manners? I haven't yet made any introductions. Peepers, this is uh... Um... Bird. Bird?" and I looked up at the ceiling fan. "This, here, is the first peep."
The bird now known as Bird looked down at the peep before taking flight and flying into a window.
I busied myself, examinin' a claw. Meanwhile, Mason flicked her tail in Rushy's face, Rushy tried to catch Mason's tail with a paw, and Andy sat down and started washin' his bum. MOUSES!
The peep turned back to the window where Bird was fluttering up against the glass. She went to lower the upper pane behind which there's no screen, but I, Seville the Cat, was quicker, and lickety-split, I was up on the window ledge on my hind legs, tryin' to catch Bird with my front paws.
"NO!" the peep cried. "Seville, stop that. Stop that right now."
"But Bird needs my help," I explained. "He's stuck in the house and he can't get out."
"I'LL help the bird," the peep said.
"FINE. Suit yourself," and I jumped down. At that moment, Bird gave up on the gettin'-out-through-the-window-business and flew down to me, passin' inches from my nose. I took flight after him (Not literally, of course. I mean, I was on the ground, runnin'. I wasn't actually flyin'. Takin' flight is just an expression, you see.) and together we ran behind a piece of furniture where the peep couldn't get at us.
Scratch that, Bird ran behind a piece of furniture, where neither I nor the peep could follow. MOUSES!
A loud crash came from the kitchen and the peep, Mason, Andy, and I all ran toward it. We found Rushy sittin' next to the bucket belongin' to the spinnin' mop thing. The mop was lyin' on the floor. The peep grumbled somethin' about somethin' (I wasn't payin' that much attention to her so I really don't know what.) and went to pick up the mop as Bird flew straight up like a helicopter from the bucket itself. Then he flew right back down, back into that bucket.
My whiskers twitched. Lookin' at the peep, I said, "Are you gonna get him, or shall I?"
The peep didn't answer but boy-oh-boy was she quick. Quicker than a clowder of cats at a nip farm, I should think.
Okay, so scratch that. A clowder of cats at a nip farm aren't likely to be very quick. They're LIKELY to be nappin' off the snacks they enjoyed after gettin' the munchies from imbibin' on all that nip. MOUSES!
At that moment, the peep grabbed a grocery bag that just HAPPENED to be lyin' on the floor along with some other stuff we cats had inadvertently knocked down while previously chasin' Bird through the kitchen, and placed said bag over the spinnin' mop's bucket. Scowlin' at us, she picked the bucket up and took it outside. The moment she removed the bag from over it, Bird flew up and out at an extraordinarily fast speed, straight toward the tall trees at the edge of the garden.
I looked at the peep, blankly, then busied myself and examined another claw. Meanwhile, Mason again flicked her tail in Rushy's face, and Rushy tried swattin' said tail once more. Andy, bein' Andy, went to wash his bum again but stopped short. "Awww... Where did the pretty birdie go?" he asked. "Did someone go and let him outside?"
MOUSES!