Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts

Wednesday, 21 September 2022

my muse


Have you ever wondered...


Have you ever wondered...


Have you ever happened to wonder how I, Seville the Cat, come up with ideas for my blog posts twice a week?  What inspires me?  What is my muse?  My muse I use to create that with which I amuse?


Funny you should ask that, my friends.  Yup, it's funny you should ask that, for sure; on account of my wonderin' about it, myself, just this mornin', and...


Okay, so I wasn't so much wonderin' as I was thinkin', on account of my already knowin' how I come up with my ideas and therefore not needin' to wonder how I do it.  But thinkin' about such things is what a cat like me does.  Yup, I am one thinkin' cat, for sure.  You know, on account of my thinkin' all the time 'bout a myriad of stuff INCLUDIN' my upcomin' blog posts and how lucky...


Lucky?


Hmmm....


Fortunate, maybe.


Hmmm...


Deservin'.


*snaps claws*


That's it!


MOUSES!


Actually, perhaps derservin' isn't the right word, after all.  Do I DESERVE to live with a couple of super silly, foolish, accident-prone - maybe even a little hapless - peeps who provide me with endless ideas for blog posts on account of their bein' so...


Well...


Well what I said above.


MOUSES!


I guess what I really am is observant.


Yeah, observant.  Observant is the right word, for sure.


Yup, I'm one extra-special, super-duper observant cat; SO WHEN THE PEEPS do stupid stuff - which appears to come quite naturally to them - I'm right there with pen and paper in paw, ready to take it all down and turn it into a blog post for all my wonderful readers out there to read.


Oh sure, sometimes I embellish a bit.  A teeny tiny bit, perhaps.  A really minuscule, teeny tiny, so-small-you-almost-can't-see-it bit.   Sometimes I might add just a tad of a little somethin'-somethin' here and there for effect, but...


But mainly...


But mainly, I just tell it like it is.


Yup, the peeps really are that silly and stupid and stuff.


Turns out, when a kitty has peeps like mine, there's really no need for said kitty to embellish.


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.


Sunday, 19 June 2022

I'm back


So I'm back.


There's no need to applaud.


MOUSES!


I said...  I'M BACK.


MOUSES!


My gosh, a kitty goes on a little hiatus, and although he refuses the expected fanfare upon his return - not to mention the offer of a small to medium-sized parade, what does a kitty get?


Nothin' but grief.


MOUSES!


Okay, so there was actually no grief.


Actually, there was nothin' at all!


DID YOU HEAR ME?


I said, I'M BACK.


MOUSES!


Nothin' but crickets.


MOUSES!


So anyway...


So anyway, there's nothin' to worry 'bout, 'bout my not bloggin' for the last few weeks.  Some stuff cropped up.  Personal stuff.  Well personal peep stuff, I suppose, which is not of any importance 'cept for the fact that it interfered with my bloggin' schedule, which actually IS important but as I said, the actual personal peep stuff is definitely not.  But Peepers' personal peep predicament has all been taken care of now, so there's really no need to go on palavering 'bout it, and...


And anyway...


I'M BACK.


Hmph, I'm havin' a really hard time hearin' the cries of joy and adulation regardin' my return, over the sound of all those crickets.


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.

Sunday, 19 January 2020

I got probs

Please excuse the poor grammar, my friends, but like I said...

I GOT PROBS!

In other words, I have BIG problems, for sure.

MOUSES!

So it's like this:  Due to technical difficulties, I shall be off-line until further notice.  I will be unable to check in on Facebook and Twitter, and unable to approve comments on my blog.

Okay, so you may have already noticed I HAVE BEEN off-line since Tuesday night.  I shall continue to be off-line until tomorrow or Tuesday.

The problem is...

I GOT PROBS!

And my biggest problem is the peep.

MOUSES!

It all started with the Windows 10 upgrade...

...WHICH PEEPERS NEVER DID.

MOUSES!

Well the deadline for goin' from seven to ten was this past week.  Meanwhile, the peep got me a new computer.  It was time.  My old one was pretty old and probably all clogged up with cat hair and stuff, anyway.

And the new computer was gonna have the new Windows 10 already on it.

But all the pictures of me and my book and stuff had to be transferred from the old computer to the new one, and the computer store is pretty far away from my house, and it's winter in Canada and roads are bad, and...

And MEANWHILE, the phone stopped workin'.  Likely on account of the freezin' rain and ice we had on Sunday.

That didn't help.

So the phone peeps are comin' tomorrow to fix the phone line, and hopefully set up my new computer, too, which Peepers is pickin' up - well by the time this post goes live it'll have been PICKED up - with all my files transferred onto it on Saturday.  I figure if I purr really nicely at the phone guy and maybe rub up against him and give him a little tickle with my whiskers, I can get him to set up the computer for me...

...'CAUSE YOU KNOW PEEPERS WILL NEVER FIGURE OUT HOW TO DO IT.

And in case you're wonderin' how you're able to read this post without my bein' able to be on-line, it's 'cause I spent last Tuesday furiously workin' away on posts for Wednesday and today, then scheduled 'em to publish automatically.  HOPEFULLY - paws crossed - by this comin' Wednesday, everythin' will be sorted.  But if not, I WILL BE BACK.  I just don't know exactly when.

MOUSES!
 
I'm tellin' ya, I have THE WORST IT SUPPORT in the history of IT support.

Oh sure, Peepers can spell and stuff - KINDA, as long as the words she's spellin' aren't too long  - and she's okay with helpin' me with editin', but when it comes to bein' IT support, she's about as useless as an ice cube at the north pole.

Or a hot water bottle in a sauna.

Or a...

Well you get the picture, I am sure.

MOUSES!

Wednesday, 4 September 2019

terrible twos

Peepers walked into my office, wanting to know what Rushy and I were up to.  She looked over at my brother, concern written all over her face.  "Rushton, why are your cheeks puffed out like that?  Do you have a sore tooth?"

Gasping for air, Rushy fell to the floor.  "No.  NO!  No, no dental.  No dental required," he wheezed, limply holding one front paw in the air.  "I was only holding my breath," and he wheezed some more.

The peep narrowed eyes.  "Why?" she asked, suspiciously.

Not that the peep asked why in a suspicious manner, but rather, she WAS suspicious when she was doin' the asking.

"Can't talk now!" and Rushy took a giant gulp of air in preparation to hold his breath once more.

Well he must have swallowed that air 'cause then came the hiccups.  MOUSES!
 
Yup, saw that one comin' a mile away.

I stopped typing long enough to turn around in my chair and look at the peep.  "Peepers, he's threatening to hold his breath until he passes out unless I promise to stop blogging about him.  Or at least, until I promise to stop writing embarrassing things about him on Nerissa's Life."

The peep and I locked eyes.

"You wanna tell him, or shall I?" I asked her.

Scooping my long-haired freak of a brother up in her arms, Peepers said, "Rushton, stop that right now.  Take a breath for goodness sake.  You NEED to breathe."

Moments before again almost passing out, Rushton obliged and took a deep breath.

The peep sighed and gave Rushy a scratch under his chin.  "Yeah, that's not going to work," she whispered in his ear.

"TOLD YOU!" I cried, looking up from the computer screen.  "Told you your threats weren't gonna work, Rushy.  You should have listened to me in the first place."

"Rushy," began the peep, "you can't use the threat of doing something that will hurt you more than it will hurt the person - or in this case cat - you're threatening."  She held up a paw...  I mean, hand.  "Not that I want you doing anything to hurt Seville.  I don't want you to do anything where you'll hurt yourself, either.  Rushton, threatening to hold your breath until you pass out can only hurt you, so Seville isn't going to feel very threatened by your...  Well...  Threat."

Rushy appeared to mull over the peep's words for a bit before saying, "But I've watched people do exactly that on TV.  More than once, too!"

Peepers furrowed her brow.  "What have you been watching?  Shows on parenting?  Programs about dealing with the terrible twos?"

Rushy shook his head back and forth.  "No, I've been watching the news.  Politics, I think."

The peep rolled her eyes and under her breath, muttered, "Oh."

Still sitting at the computer, I shook my head in disgust.  "Tsk tsk."

"But Peepers..." Rushy whined like a toddler on catnip, "I watched on TV where some guy was ranting and raving and flinging his arms in the air and making all sorts of threats just to get what he wanted, and..."

"DID he get what he wanted?" the peep asked.

Rushy pondered the peep's question.  "I think we find that out in season two."

I imagined the peep was rolling her eyes again but didn't turn 'round to look, on account of my busily typing.  "Rushy, what was that you said, again?  Can you repeat that last line?  I want to make sure I use your exact words so that..."

"THAT DOES IT!" yelled my brother.  "See what he's doing, Peepers?  He's writing about me on his blog again!  He's making me look bad."

"Not bad," I denied.  "Silly, perhaps, but not bad.  At least not in an evil kinda way.  But seriously, I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried."

"PEEPERS..." wailed Rushy.

"PEEPERS..." I furiously typed.

"PEEPERS..." Rushy cried again, this time more loudly.

At that point I turned 'round.  "Rushton, your dialogue is gettin' a little repetitive.  You wanna come up with...."

BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP BEEP BEEP!  BEEP!

"An expletive or two?  That'll do.  Mouses Rushy, I didn't even know you knew words like that."

The peep suddenly appeared by my side, her paw...  I mean, hand, hoverin' over the keyboard.  "I think that's enough blogging for today, Seville."  Her words were quiet but firm.  She obviously meant business.  MOUSES!

"FINE," and I started to shut down the computer.  "But since I'm apparently done writing for the day, you think you could rustle up some snacks for your two favourite kitties?"

"You're pushing it, Seville, but okay."

Leaving my office with the peep trailing behind, I elbowed Rushton in his side.  "Hey Rushy, I dare you to eat whatever Peepers gives us in like...  Uh...  One minute.  Yeah, I dare you to scarf it all done."

"Okay Sivvers, but eating that quickly, I'll likely hork it right back up."

I smiled to myself.  Next week's blog post was practically writing itself.

MOUSES!

Sunday, 27 May 2018

the agreement

It has come to my attention, SOME peeps think I mock 'em too much.

Scratch that.

It has come to my attention, ONE peep thinks I mock her too much.

Better.

But...

It has come to my attention, ONE peep thinks I mock her too much, and the other peep is hunky dory, a-okay, with that situation.

Best.

MOUSES!

What?  What's that, Peepers?  What's that you're babblin' on about now?

Oh.

Hmmm...

So it has since come to my attention, one peep AND SEVERAL CATS think I mock 'em too much.

HMMM...

Well that's just life, I suppose, and there's nothin' I'm gonna be changin' about it.

So...

So MOUSES!

You know, truth is, I wouldn't be mockin' Peep #1 and my fur-sibs all the time in the first place, if they weren't always doin' things requirin' me to mock.

Why just the other day...

Oh my mouses, where do I even begin?

I mean, EVERY SINGLE DAY Peep #1 and my fur-sibs give me reasons to mock 'em.  Every single day.  Every single one!  Three hundred and sixty-five days of the year.  Three hundred and sixty five: That's how many days they give me stuff I can use for mockin'.

MULTIPLE TIMES a day, too.  That's right, my friends, two or three times a day.  Sometimes four.  Sometimes even more!

I'm like spoiled for reasons for mockin'.

You might not realise this, but I have to whittle down the available mockable incidents.

I DO!

The daily whittlin' of MIs - that's Mockable Incidents, for those not in the know - is like a full-time job, for sure.

In fact, Peep #1 and my fur-sibs give me SO VERY MANY REASONS to mock 'em, and I have to spend SO VERY MUCH TIME decidin' which incidents are the most mockable, it's amazin' I have any time left to do any actual mockin'!

SERIOUSLY.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', Seville must be exaggerating, 'cause just how many stupid things can a peep and three fur-sibs in the course of one day, do?

My friends, you would be surprised, for sure.

MOUSES!

I'm tellin' ya, it's like they're in a competition of some kind.  A competition where the winner is the one who does the most stupid stuff.  The most stupid stuff, the most times.  The most stupid...

Well you get the picture, I am sure.

MOUSES!

Now I must admit, SOMETIMES, the stupid stuff they do is kinda repetitive.  Too repetitive for me to blog 'bout more than seven or eight times.

Actually, it's amazin' how many times Peep #1 has done the same stupid things, over and over and over again.

She's clearly a slow learner, for sure.

And as for those fur-sibs of mine, well I've lost track of the number of times they've done certain stupid things, repeatedly.  They must be slow learners, too.

MOUSES!

And as for Peep #2?

Well...

Well let's just say, Peep #2 and I have kinda come to an agreement of sorts.  I keep my mockin' to my fur-sibs and Peep #1, and Peep #2 gives me extra treats.

SWEET.

MOUSES!

Wednesday, 7 March 2018

cock of the walk

So this mornin', I was sittin' at my desk, wonderin' what I should blog about today.  Should I blog about those two long-haired marmie freak brothers of mine?  Should I blog about my two butter-wouldn't-melt-in-their-mouths, meddlin' sisters?  Or should I blog about my weird and not-so-wonderful peeps?

HMMM...

Well I thought about it.

Then I thought about it some more.

I thought, and I thought, and I thought.

And then, WITH A GREAT FLASH OF LIGHT, it came to me.

Okay, so there were no actual flashes of light.

MOUSES!

BUT, at that very moment, I did happen to look up from my desk.  And there, struttin' down the driveway like he owned the joint, was...

A crow.

Could you believe it?

That's what I said: A CROW!  And he was walkin' instead of flyin', too.

Actually, he was struttin'.  Like I said, he was struttin' around like he owned the joint.  He must have thought he was the cock of the walk, for sure.

MOUSES!

You ever notice that when crows walk, or strut, or whatever it is that they do, they're not the most graceful of birds?  They're not the most graceful of beings, at all.  They kinda bob their heads backwards and forwards, and up and down, like they're peckin' at invisible seed in the air.

It's kinda weird, actually.

MOUSES!

Nope, they have no grace, AT ALL, while walkin'.

Unlike us cats.

CRASH!!!

Okay, so unlike most of us cats, I should say.

WHAT DID YOU BREAK THIS TIME, ANDY?

Seriously, my friends, I don't even know why I even bother askin', anymore.  I've lost track of the number of things Andy has run in...

CRASH!!!

And there he goes again.

MOUSES!

But like I was sayin' before, crows don't walk with the grace of us cats.

Yeah.  Right.  That's what I was sayin' before Andy went and proved me wrong, AGAIN.

Of course, it's not entirely his fault.  His paws ARE the size of snowshoes.  Snowshoes belongin' to a Sasquatch, that is.

MOUSES!

I'm tellin' ya, that brother of mine has the grace of a...  A...  A...

HMMM...

Never mind.

MOUSES!

Rushy is much more graceful when he walks.

Of course, that's not sayin' much.  It's not like the bar was set all that high with Andy.

CRASH!!!

If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was doin' it on purpose.

And the peep wonders why we go through so many dishes.

MOUSES!

Of course, if the peep were smart, she wouldn't keep buyin' the kind of plates we can break.

CRASH!!!

On second thought, that up and down, backwards and forwards head bobbin' crow, struttin' down my driveway like he owned the joint this mornin', is soundin'' more and more graceful by the minute.

CRASH!!!

Oh for the love of mouses, what WILL he break next?

Sunday, 16 July 2017

my apologies

It is with deepest regret...

Hmmm...

It is with my most sincere apologies...

HMMM...

I would like to extend...

HMMM...

For mousin' out loud.  I'm sorry.  Okay?  I'M SORRY!  Are you satisfied now?  MOUSES!

On the other paw, I'm thinkin' that might not be the best openin' for a letter of apology, ever, after all.  It's back to the drawin' board for me.  MOUSES!

But I don't have a drawin' board to get back to.  MOUSES!

OH PEEPERS....

Hey Peepers!  You have a drawin' board handy?  You wanna write this letter of apology for me?

Actually, it would be far more appropriate for the letter to come from you, anyway, 'cause after all, it was you who messed everythin' up the other day and...

What?  You don't remember messin' everythin' up?  Oh my mouses, Peepers.  Of course you did.

Oh yeah, it was DEFINITELY you.  You were definitely to blame.  Haven't you heard that ol' sayin'? You know the one.  The one that goes like, When in doubt, blame the peep.

Yeah, that one.  EVERYONE says it so it must be true.

Who's everyone, you ask?  Well...  Well me, for one.  And everybody else I know, too.  It's quite a well established sayin', Peepers.  It's very well known.  I believe Nissy invented it and...

IT'S A SAYIN'!  WHO AM I TO DISAGREE WITH A SAYIN'?  WHO ARE YOU TO DISAGREE WITH A SAYIN', EITHER?  Who?  WHO?  WHO?

Anyway...

Anyway, AS EVERYONE KNOWS, when in doubt, one should always blame the peep.  So I'm thinkin'...  I'm thinkin', if anyone has gotta apologize, it should be a peep, and the peep I'm thinkin' who should be apologizin', is you.

Not MY fault you don't understand the sayin'.  But your lack of understandin' is beside the point.  All you really need know is how to write a letter of apology.

'Nough of your babblin', woman.  Let's get down to business here, shall we?

Hmmm....

I'm thinkin' you should address the letter to the world 'cause I..  I mean, YOU, kinda messed up the world the other day when...

I'M GETTIN' TO THAT PART, WOMAN.  MOUSES!

Peepers, last Wednesday, when I hit the publish button on my blog, I kinda broke the Internet.

I MEAN, when I hit the publish button, YOU kinda broke the Internet.

Why was it you?  'CAUSE YOU'RE MY IT SUPPORT, THAT'S WHY.  Don't you know anythin', Peepers?  MOUSES!

For mousin' out loud.  Peep #1 is as dense as a century-old fruit cake, soaked in a barrel of rum.  It's no wonder she doesn't have a clue 'bout...

Hang on there for a mo.  Maybe all that rum is the reason she's...

Yup, her brain must be addled, or pickled, or whatever, for sure.  MOUSES!

Anyway Peepers, the thing is, when I hit the publish button on Wednesday, my blog published and everythin', but no one could read it.  No one could access my blog at all.  And when I say no one, I mean NO ONE, as in not a single man, woman, or cat, anywhere.  Not from New Zealand, or England, or the United States, or anywhere else!  I couldn't even access it myself, and it's my blog. All I got was a "Site cannot be found" message.  I don't know how you did it but CLEARLY Peepers, YOU BROKE THE INTERNET.

Pish posh, oh my gosh.  The fact that I was the one who actually hit the publish button is neither here nor there.  Nor anywhere!  As my IT Support, it is YOUR duty to make my blog run smoothly, and as you were derelict in your duties, it was YOUR fault the Internet broke.  Yours and only yours and besides, do I have to remind you again?   When in doubt, blame the peep.  Not that there is any doubt in my mind that you are to blame, but still...

Oh my mouses, how DOES one reason with an unreasonable rum-soaked-fruitcake dense, brain addled peep?

So like I was sayin' before I had to explain like, EVERYTHIN', to you, you need to write up a letter of apology addressed to the whole wide world, on account of your breakin' the Internet, and...

Peepers.

PEEPERS.

PEEPERS!

Where are you goin' now?

And why are you coverin' your ears like that?

AND WHY ARE YOU MAKIN' THOSE WEIRD NAH-NAH-NAH-NAH-NAH-NAH AWFUL KIND OF SINGING NOISES THAT REALLY AREN'T SINGING NOISES AT ALL?

Peepers, you've already broken the Internet this week.  You tryin' to break everyone's eardrums, too?

MOUSES!

PS.  As soon as I got hold of the peeps where my blog is registered, they fixed everythin' up RIGHT AWAY.  Like seriously, they fixed it within minutes.  But please note, it was I, Seville the Cat, who contacted them and NOT the first peep.  I should have them for IT support.  At least they know what they're doin', UNLIKE MY PEEP.  MOUSES!

Sunday, 14 May 2017

Seville the Cat here

Hey ho!  Seville the Cat here, bringin' you the most up-to-date news, from rural Nova Scotia.

Hmmm...

Hey ho!  Seville the Cat here, bringin' you MY VERSION of the most up-to-date news, from rural Nova Scotia.

Hmmm....

Hey ho!  Seville the Cat here, bringin' you a whole bunch of stuff I'm makin' up off the top of my head on account of my not havin' anythin' interestin' to blog about today, from rural Nova Scotia.

BETTER.  MOUSES!

Sometimes a cat has just gotta do, what a cat has gotta do.  MOUSES!

So as you might have guessed, there has been NOTHIN' interestin' goin' on at my house for the last couple of days.

Well...  Nothin' noteworthy, I guess.  Nothin' worth bloggin' about, for sure.  MOUSES!

On the other paw...

Nope, sorry.  That information was marked private and personal, and the peep said I couldn't go 'round tellin' the whole wide world.  Not even if it was the ONLY real news I had to tell!

But on the OTHER paw, peeps go around tellin' the whole wide world all their private and personal stuff all the time!  Sometimes that stuff is so private and so personal, the world DOESN'T EVEN WANNA KNOW, but does that stop those peeps?  No sirree.  It doesn't stop 'em at all.  They just go around blabbin' like there's no tomorrow and...

What?  WHAT?  What's that you're sayin', Peepers?  You're sayin' that under no circumstances am I to tell my readers that my sister Mason was feelin' a little under the weather, and ended up with a bit of a dirty bum?  FINE.  MOUSES!

Oh-oh.

Hmmm...

Pretend you didn't hear 'bout that, okay?

And if you can't pretend you didn't hear it, pretend you didn't hear it from ME.  MOUSES!

So what should I blog about today?

I KNOW!  Hey Peepers!  I need to borrow your flashy box.  I need to take a picture of my din-dins.

What?  WHAT?  What's that you're sayin', Peepers?  You're sayin' that under no circumstances do I need to take a picture of my dinner?

Are you sure about that, Peepers?  'Cause peeps take pictures of their dinners, and post those pictures on the Internet, all the time.  And when I say all the time, I really mean ALL the time.  If it weren't for peeps postin' pictures of their dinners, social media would come to a complete standstill, for sure.

Well...  Pictures of their dinners and cute cat videos, that is.  MOUSES!

So that brings me back to square one on the search for a bloggin' topic for today.

Hmmm...

GOT IT.  Peep #1 planted another two azalea bushes yesterday.

And she RE-planted 'em again this mornin'. MOUSES!

Don't worry, Peepers.  I'll be sure to let my readers know that you didn't replant those two azalea bushes just for the fun of replanting 'em.  'Cause believe you me, I watched you replanting 'em this mornin', and it didn't look like you were havin' any fun, at all.  MOUSES!

Yeah, Yeah...  I'll mention the rockies.  Keep your pants on, woman.

And when I say keep your pants on, I mean KEEP YOUR PANTS ON.  World Naked Gardenin' Day was last weekend, not today.  MOUSES!

So anyway, as you might have guessed, the rocky raccoons were back again and last night, they dug up the two azaleas Peep #1 planted yesterday.  But this time, they just left 'em next to where they had been planted, instead of tryin' to haul 'em off into the jungle and...

What?  WHAT?  What's that you're sayin', Peepers?  You're sayin' that under no circumstances am I tell my readers we live in a jungle?

REALLY?  When was the last time you weeded?  MOUSES!

Hehehehehee...  Okay, perhaps that is a bit of an exaggeration.  Not even a whole bazillion gazillion weeds do a jungle make.  Close, but not quite.  Now a million bazillion gazillion weeds would be a TOTALLY different story, for sure.

HEY PEEPERS!  How come I'm findin' your hair all over my office?  You sheddin' or somethin'?

OR ARE YOU GOIN' BALD?

That's not good, Peepers.  Seriously, that's not good at all.  Take my word for it.  The bald look is not a good look for you 'cause Kojak, you are not, and...

GET A GRIP, WOMAN.  If you don't wanna go bald, just stop pullin' on your hair like that.  Stop yankin' it out!  Didn't anyone ever tell you, yanked out hair might not grow back and like I said, Kojak, you are not, and...

What?  WHAT?

FINE.

MOUSES!

Apparently, accordin' to the peep...

But then what does she know?  I mean, she's just a peep and...

What Peepers?

FINE.

MOUSES!

APPARENTLY, accordin' to the peep - while bearing in mind she is just a peep - she's pullin' her hair out on account of my blog post today, and SHE SAYS, since today is Mother's Day, I should go easy on her and give her break.

I guess I could do that.

It IS Mother's Day and all.

And she IS kinda my mother, even though we don't look at all alike.  You know, on account of my bein' way cuter.  Plus, I'm a redhead.  And then there's that whole business of the tail.

My tail.  I'M the one with the tail.  The peep doesn't have a tail.  Not one I've noticed, at least.

I guess I COULD give her a break...

But don't worry friends, I'll be back in FULL FORCE on Wednesday.  Ol' Peepers here can yank out the remainin' hair on her head, then.   MOUSES!

Wednesday, 23 March 2016

whatcha doin'?

Whatcha doin' there, Peepers?  Writing something?  Anything that might be of interest to me?

Mouses Peepers, you've written absolutely nothing.  That there is what one would call a blank screen.  Blank as in, you know... blank.  Got nothing on it at all.

What am I talking about?  Actually, I think you mean about what am I talking but that aside, I'm referring to that ol' blank computer screen sitting there in front of you.  I hate to say it but you've got nothing but screen.

Now I know, if you were playing basketball or something and you had nothing but net, that might be a good thing but that's an entirely different matter, if you know what I mean.  MOUSES!

So anyway, Peepers, you need some help?  Let me go get my fee schedule for you and then we'll talk.  MOUSES!

Now first things first, Peepers.  Before you do anything else you need to put your paws on the keyboard and prepare yourself for typing.  You need to have paws at the ready, so to speak, for when inspiration hits you.  That's right, Lady Inspiration is gonna hit you and then you're gonna start hitting those keys.  That's how we professional writers do it, you see.

Secondly, close your eyes.  That's right, Peepers, close your eyes and wait for Lady Inspiration to strike

By the way, Peepers...  Perhaps I should have asked this first but uh...  You do know how to type with your eyes closed, right?  You do?  Excellent.  Not that it would matter much anyway considering how little you've typed.

What's that, Peepers?  Don't blame ME.  I'm not the one sitting there in front of a computer with a blank screen.  Clearly you have typed absolutely nothing and the proof is right there in front of you, in the form of that there screen with nothing on it.  MOUSES!

Peepers, would you like me to get you a cup of nip tea or something?  I find my writing is much better after having imbibed in a little nip, myself.  You think a little nip tea would help you, too, 'cause judging by that blank screen, you're in need of all the help you can get and...

Mason, stop distracting Peep #1 with your incessant questions about whatever you're questioning her.  She needs to concentrate on her writing, here, if she's ever gonna get anything done.

Okay Peepers, now we wait.  Yup, now we sit and wait.  We wait for Lady Inspiration to make an appearance.

Er-hmm...  Anything yet, Peepers?  I don't see your fingers moving.  You haven't typed a single word. Not even a letter.  Not even a punctuation mark or anything.  MOUSES!

We'll just wait a little longer then.

Anything now, Peepers?  Anything at all?

Peepers?  PEEPERS?  PEEPERS!!!  You still awake there, Peepers?  Just checking.

By gosh, it never takes me this long to come up with something about which to write.  I come up with a blog post twice a week, every week, and I can say with utmost certainty that I have never - EVER - taken this long to come up with a post.  Hmmm...

Peepers, anyone ever tell you you're not really cut out for this writing thing?  'Cause if no one else has told you, I might....

Peepers!  It's working!  Lady Inspiration has arrived.  The screen is...

Wait a minute.  Why is the computer screen going all dark and...

WHAT DID YOU DO?  That's my computer you're using and you've gone and...

Oh.  Oh?  What the mouses?  Uh Peepers, how come the computer is shutting down?  That's what the computer does when it shuts down.  How come it's doing that?  You haven't done any of your writing yet.

Really?  Well why the mouses did you not say that before?  For mousin' out loud.  MOUSES!

Next time when you've finished all your writing for the day and saved the file and are shutting the computer down when I come into the office Peepers, let me know BEFORE I waste all this time helping you write whatever you've already finished writing, okay?  My time could have been far better spent biffing a nippy biff bag around or something like that.  Actually, my time could have been far better spent taking a nap or pretty much anything else.  Truth be told, my time would have been better spent watching a bug sitting on a window - not that we have any bugs on windows at this time of year but still...  Suffice it to say, it would save a whole lot of effort on my part if I didn't need to help you when you're not actually in need of my help.

Not that you don't need my help.  I mean, you do tend to need my help on a daily basis, Peepers, especially when it comes to writing but still...

Just be sure that next time you speak up before we repeat what happened here.  No more repeat performances of this are allowed.  Okay?  Okay.  Now I think I'll go find myself a nip mouse or something 'cause let me tell you, I really need a nip mouse right about now and that, Peepers, is a fact, for sure.  MOUSES!



Wednesday, 4 November 2015

facing fear

So the peep has joined a local writer's group. Apparently, she was invited.  Invited.  The peep!  Can you believe it?  Don't they know that I, Seville the Cat, am the real writer in this here family?  MOUSES!

Anyway, Peep #1 joined this writing group and sure enough, right off the bat, she came begging - yes, BEGGING - to me for help.  Her exact words were, "Help!"  Okay, that was actually her exact word but you get my drift, I am sure.  MOUSES!

I have discovered that Peep #1 isn't used to writing stuff in her own voice.  When she writes, she writes fiction and hides behind either the plot or the characters or sometimes even both.  She never writes really serious stuff as I do and that, my friends, is why she needs my help.  As you all know, I write serious stuff all the time and when doing so, I use my own voice.

Dare I say it once more?  Sure, why not?  MOUSES!

So the scaredy-cat peep...

Hmmm...  Scaredy-PEEP is more like it.

So the scaredy-peep came running to me, begging for my assistance.  Figures.  We've been down this road before.

I, not being one to mince words simply said, "Give it here, Peepers.  I'll see what I can do."

Of course, the peep then complained, saying she simply needed help and wasn't asking me to do her homework for her to which I replied, "What do think I am?  Some kind of teacher?  MOUSES!"

Peep #1 then stomped out of my office in a huff as I called out behind her, "You'll get my bill in the mail!" although to be perfectly honest, I'll probably just paw it over to her and save myself a stamp.

So here I am, writing Peep #1's writing assignment for her.

Now Peep #1's writing assignment was about fear and/or courage.  Fear?  Courage?  Rather apropos, if you know what I mean.  Well at least the fear part is.

So let's get down to business and talk about this here thing called fear, shall we?  Let's talk about the peep's inability to write using her own voice.  Why she apparently can't do that.  Well the answer is clear.  It's all about fear.

That's right, the peep is too scared to write using her own voice.  Too scared to let other peeps see or hear what she really thinks and probably way too scared to hear any replies.  So when Peep #1 writes, she uses characters and plots to get her message across. Kind of a roundabout way of doing things if you ask me.

Now the peep would argue that I, Seville the Cat, use humour behind which to hide but quite frankly, I have to disagree.  I know there are peeps out there who do that but that kind of thing is simply not for me.  Firstly, I'm not a peep; I'm a cat.  Secondly, I use humour to entertain and not to hide.

If I were to hide behind something, I'd hide behind a piece of furniture or an appliance.  Or better yet, underneath one.  I mean, what is gonna protect me more?  A big ol' chunk of steel and wood or a little wee joke?  Seriously, think about it for a minute, would you?  Peeps can see right through jokes whereas they cannot see through carbon steel.  MOUSES!

Why just last week, my sister Constance had to visit the doctor again.  Yeah, she's been going there every week ever since she broke her leg but that's beside the point.  The thing is, Connie doesn't like going to see the doctor because - you guessed it - she's afraid.  She's scared.  It's all about fear.

But when Constance is scared, does she hide behind a joke as the peep falsely accuses me of doing?  Or does she hide behind some made-up character's voice as the peep actually does?  Of course not!  Connie is a cat and therefore, she's smart.  That's why when Connie hides, she hides behind furniture and appliances and the like.  In fact, last week Constance hid behind the chest freezer, the upright freezer, the trunks under the stairwell, underneath the living room chesterfield, behind those big old trunks a second time and even up on the ledge leading into the basement although truth be told, that last spot turned out not be a very good hiding spot at all as the peep could see her, plain as day, even if she was out of reach.  Bottom line is, forty minutes later, Connie had to go visit the doctor after all.

Now the lesson to be learned here is...  Peep #1 is way more persistent than anyone ever thought.

Scratch that.  A better lesson to be learned is that if you're going to hide, hide somewhere where you'll actually be hidden and not behind something silly like humour or someone else's voice or...

Nah, scratch that, too.  The REAL lesson to be learned here is that the best way to face fear is to do exactly that.  To simply face it.  Let me explain.

Six months ago, after my brother Nerissa's death, I was handed the reigns of this here blog, Nerissa's Life.  It was scary.  Scary as all get out.  I had never written a thing before in my life and now was expected to come up with a blog post twice a week, every week.  I didn't think I could do it at all.

But did I run?  Did I cower and hide?  Did I ask the peep to write my blog posts for me?

OF COURSE NOT!

I sat right down at the computer and tried to figure out how to turn it on.  Yeah, that part was hard, I have to admit, but once I had tackled the whole on/off switch thingy, I started writing right away.  I wrote and I wrote and I WROTE.  I wrote as much as my little paws could handle.  And once that was done, I discovered that I, Seville the Cat, could actually write after all.  There had never been any reason to be afraid.  There had never been anything to fear.

Six months later, I will admit that every now and then, I still do get a little scared about writing. Sometimes I'll find a topic I think might be too much to handle.  Sometimes I can't find a topic at all! Yeah, that can be really scary, for sure.  But as with all fears, the best way to overcome them is to face them.  To just go ahead and do it and that is exactly what I did.

So as I sit here at my desk, I'm wondering...  Should I press print and give this here text to the peep to hand in or should I go tell the peep that to overcome her fear, she needs to face that very fear itself. She needs to write about something serious, using her own voice and she needs to do it on her own.

I'm torn.  Torn between doing the right thing and pressing delete or doing the wrong thing, handing the peep this text and earning a little nip money on the side.  Decisions, decisions...  What to do?  What to do?

Hah!  Nip money always trumps all else.

"Oh Peepers....  I have your assignment for you.  And please pay with cash.  I don't accept cheques.  MOUSES!"

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

Yesterday was a bittersweet day at my house.  Yesterday would have been Nissy's fourth blogoversary had my amazing brother still been with us, writing this here blog.  Yesterday was a day that should have been full of celebrations but instead, it was marked with such sadness, for we all miss Nissy so very much.  purrs






Sunday, 18 October 2015

respect

At my house, the peeps have learned to respect the cat with the sharpest claws.

Okay, maybe that's not quite right.  Truth is, they respect the cat who has the sharpest wit and isn't afraid to use his claws.

And that would be me. MOUSES!

Now that we have that out of the way, let's talk some more about this thing called respect, shall we?

The other day, I heard someone say, "He don't respect me."  Now lack of respect for the English language and grammar aside, there most definitely is something to be said about the lack of respect in today's society.  As a cat and a blogger, I am faced with this lack of respect on an almost daily basis and I have to say, it's beginning to get on my nerves.  MOUSES!

Are you aware that some peeps out there don't consider me to be their equal?  It's true.

Part of that lack of respect is, I do believe, the fact that I'm a cat.  Can you believe it?  The fact that I walk on four paws instead of two, and happen to have a tail, is no reason to disrespect me. Again I must say, MOUSES!

You know, when one walks on four paws instead of two, one is far less likely to fall down. MOUSES!

For example, when I write a particularly engaging post on my blog, everyone and all their uncles assume the peep has written it.  Same thing if I happen to win an award.  Used to happen with Nissy, too.

You might find it hard to believe but it's a fact.  I've heard these people with my very own ears. "Oh, but it's really you writing," they say to the peep, winking uncontrollably like they have a whole beach full of sand in their eyes.  And although the peep always answers with, "No, it's Seville's blog," they just keep on winking.  Yup, winking up a storm.  A sandstorm, in fact.   The sandstorm of all sandstorms, to be sure.

They're trying to trip up the peep, I do believe, and it makes me worry.  Makes me worry that one day, they will trip up Peep #1 on account of her walking on only two feet.  As I mentioned earlier, walking on four paws is a far more stable way to walk.  MOUSES!

Why does everyone assume Peep #1, simply by virtue of her being a peep, is a better writer than I, Seville the Cat?  It makes no sense.  Have they actually read any of her stuff?  MOUSES!

Truth be told, the peep and I both have blogs.  At least I assume the peep still has hers.  Hasn't been updated in I don't know how long.  No, seriously, I don't know.  I'm not sure anyone does. Yes, my friends, it has been that long.  She's an incredibly inconsistent blogger.  The only thing consistent about her blogging is her inconsistency.  MOUSES!

What's more, nobody reads the peep's blog and when I say nobody, I really do mean nobody.  I could make some silly joke about a guy named Nobody being the only reader she has but honestly, even he doesn't read The Peep's Cheeps any more.  It's because she never updates it, you see.

So who's the better writer, huh?  The peep or me? Clearly, it's me.  Oh should that be I?  Hmmm... Yup, clearly it is I.  You see?  Peep probably doesn't even know that.  MOUSES!

But as a blogging kitty, I get the double-whammy lack of respect.  Not only are there those who don't respect us kitties, but there are those who don't respect us bloggers, either.  Let me tell you what happened just last week.

As you know, here in Canada, we have an election coming up.  Tomorrow, in fact.  In fact, by the time some of you read this here blog post, the election might already have been past.  What you might also already know is that in this election, peeps have to prove they are who they say they are, before they can vote.

Ignoring the whole issue that as a cat I don't get to vote which clearly indicates a great lack of respect towards the feline species...

Okay, moving on.

The other day, our weekly local paper reported that in order to vote, peeps needed to show photo ID. Something like a driver's licence.  Yup, that's what they said.  They said, well, rather they wrote, that photo ID was required.  Not helpful or useful but rather, required.

Now here's the thing.  That's not true.  It's not true at all.  Not even in the least.  And had that reporter read the blog post I had written the week before, "get out and vote," he would have known that.  MOUSES!

Some might say I'm making mountains out of molehills but to those people I would answer, molehills are mountains.  No self-respecting cat ever ignores a molehill because as cats, we like to keep track of all resident moles.

But mole counting aside, this is really serious stuff.  The fact is that in order to vote in tomorrow's election, you can use photo ID such as a driver's licence but there are all sorts of other forms of ID you can use, too.  And they don't have to have your picture on them, either.  There are well over three dozen non-photo forms of identification Elections Canada will accept, as long as one of those pieces of ID has your current address on it.  Plus, there's even a third option where you can have another voter attest to your identity.

So what happens when someone reads in the paper that they don't get to vote unless they show photo ID?  What happens to the person who reads that and doesn't have any photo ID?  I can tell you what might happen.  They just might read that and decide, since they won't be allowed to vote anyway, they won't bother going to the polling station.

Now do you see why this is such an important error?  One moment of carelessness and...   MOUSES!

For my blog post, I got my information straight from the horse's mouth.  Okay, maybe there weren't any actual horses involved.  No ponies either.  But my facts were absolutely factual.  I took them straight from the literature mailed out by Elections Canada and double-checked them on their on-line site.  The peep even spoke with an Elections Canada official although truth be told, she did that after my post had already been published.  But the bottom line is, my facts were fact and to this day, remain factual.

But back to the issue of respect or lack thereof.

Peeps naturally respect newspapers.  Read it in a paper and it's like it's written in stone. Newsflash...  Newspapers haven't been printed in stone since Bedrock's The Daily Granite went on-line.  MOUSES!

But does the public show the same respect they have for newspapers, to bloggers and more importantly, blogging kitties, too?  Sadly, no.

You see, if a blogging kitty, such as myself, publishes something contradictory to what a real newspaper publishes, it will always be assumed that the newspaper is correct and that I, as a kitty and a blogger, am not.  Obviously, this shows a lack of respect.  A lack of respect directed towards the blogging kitties of the world.  MOUSES!

When you're publishing something important, you've gotta check your facts. Check 'em once, twice and even thrice.

What do you think would happen if a Toronto paper accidentally published misinformation about the score at a Blue Jays' game?  A riot, most likely. Good thing that didn't happen. MOUSES!

And for anyone reading this blog post before tomorrow's election...  You do NOT need photo ID in order to vote! You do need identification, yes. It does not need to be of the photographic kind.  And if you have any questions at all, check with Elections Canada at elections.ca or call 'em up at 1-800-463-6868,  They'll tell you what you really do need and exactly what you don't.

And most importantly of all, show respect for your country and respect for democracy by voting tomorrow.   October 19th is the big day!  Canadian citizens, 18-years-old and older, each have one vote so VOTE TOMORROW or forever hold your peace.  Or at least until the next election.  MOUSES!

Wednesday, 1 July 2015

Happy Canada Day!

Happy Canada Day!

Sort of.

MOUSES!

My very first Canada Day on the job as Chief Blogger of the Family and I've already messed up. MOUSES!

Although technically, it was not I who messed up.  It was the peep and boy-oh-boy, did she ever make a mess of my blog. MOUSES!

I had this big adventure type of post planned for today.  It was big.  It was super big.

You see, my sister Mason...  Oops!  I had better not tell you about the actual adventure, just in case I can salvage something for a future post.

What I can tell you is the following...  PEEP #1 MESSED UP BIG TIME!  (No mouses required.)

Nissy used to always say he had the worst IT support on the planet and let me tell you, I had never really believed him until yesterday but now I know for a fact that what he claimed was absolutely true.

Perhaps I should start from the beginning...

The other day, something really exciting happened at my house and I wanted to tell you all about it so I wrote the most amazing blog post to let you all in on this exciting event.  Then I called out, "Oh Peepers...  I need a few pictures for my blog post .  You want to whip up a paw full for me?"  Well the peep got working on those pictures right away.  She did act quite promptly, I have to give her that.

But then the next thing I knew, there was fur flying all over the place.  Okay it wasn't exactly fur.  It was more like hair.  Peep hair.  She was practically yanking it out of her head in frustration.  And there were some words said, too, which I will not repeat here as Nerissa's Life is a family-friendly blog but let me put it this way...   THEY WERE A WHOLE LOT STRONGER THAN MOUSES. MOUSES!

I tried to console the peep.  May I get you some coffee?  Tea?  Cake?

Now an offer of cake usually puts a gleam in Peep #1's eye but ever since I ordered those cakes on-line and offered her some, the gleam has been a bit dull.  You see, the peep thought I was offering her Black Forest Cake or Lemon Chiffon or something like that but really, they were fishcakes.  What did she expect?  I'm a cat.  I'm not allowed chocolate and I don't like lemon so of course I was going to go the fishcake route.  MOUSES!

Anyway, the peep turned down the coffee, tea and fishcakes.  I think she was looking for something stronger.

Apparently, the site Peep #1 always used when doing up pictures for Nissy has changed a whole whack of stuff.  She can't Google images to be used as stickers anymore or maybe she can but doesn't know how.

You've got to understand something about my first peep.  When it comes to technology, she's barely hanging on by a thread.  Even the smallest of changes can turn her world upside down and that thread she's hanging onto will snap in an instant.  She just can't take it.  She can't adapt.

But back to those pictures.  Peep #1 got to thinking and thought she had figured it out.  If she went to a second site she sometimes used, she could grab a picture of what she needed, there.  She knew she'd have to cut out the image to turn it into a sticker once back on the first site.  And she knew she'd have to do that every single time she wanted to use it. Not the best of situations but she figured she had no choice.

So after grabbing the image, the peep went back to the first site and started my picture all over again but alas, that image she had grabbed to make into a sticker?  It had gone missing!  Peep says it's somewhere in the computer in some unknown file or something but I'm thinking it took one look at her pulling out her hair and ran away as fast as it could.  The peep looked really scary.

Once resigned to not being able to use the stickers she had wanted to use, the peep went back to work on my picture, starting from the beginning, once more.  She then started working on making a sticker of me.

FIVE TIMES she had to cut out that picture of me.  FIVE TIMES!!!  In her frazzled state, she kept making mistakes.  Even the fifth attempt wasn't great but at least it was something.  MOUSES!

Eventually she ended up with this stupid picture of me alongside two measly little stickers.  The edges of my beautiful marmalade fur are all hazy because the peep wasn't seeing clearly due to the state she was in.  I think she was shedding a few tears.

Basically, the picture sucks.  Sucks big time.  It's the suckiest picture I ever have seen. MOUSES!

So I told the peep to take a break and come back to the picture-making later because I still needed at least another three of them, you see, and I was hoping they wouldn't suck as badly as the first.  I went outside for a stroll with her where I raced across the front yard and climbed right up the big linden tree.  Then I allowed her to assist in my decent as climbing up is always less scary than climbing back down.  Don't worry, I didn't make the peep climb the tree or anything.  She just had to reach up and grab me once I found my way to a low branch.  Then we went inside to get back to work.

And that's when there was no Internet connection.  MOUSES!

About half an hour later, the Internet was back on-line, as was the peep.  She briefly attempted a second picture but again, it just wasn't working.  Finally, she gave up.  What a peep.

Okay I will admit that even I was feeling sorry for the peep at this point.  I've never seen such a pathetic, despondent, bedraggled looking peep in my life.  She was a mess.

Beginning to feel a little sorry for myself, too, I went into the kitchen to see if there were any of those fishcakes left.  Nothing.  MOUSES!

So here I am, moping about on Canada Day, late afternoon.  I have no special Canada Day post. No nice pictures.  No adventure.  Basically, I have nothing.  Nothing but a technologically challenged peep.

Staring longingly out my office window, I can see that the sun is shining and it's a beautiful summer day.  I should be spending the afternoon munching on grilled burgers and sipping iced nip tea. Getting tummy rubs and ear scritches, too.  I SHOULD be enjoying this wonderful Canada Day afternoon.

But instead, I'm spending Canada Day in my office, typing up a blog post to use as a less-than-perfect, fill-in post because I can't use the good adventure one I planned to use. This is not how I had intended on spending Canada Day. MOUSES!

I sure do hope you're all having a way better Canada Day than I.  And I sure do hope that next year, I'll do better.  Maybe by then the peep will have figured out how to make me some pictures. MOUSES!


Sunday, 10 May 2015

the break-in

Seville pawed at the door. Grabbing the doorknob between both front paws, he tried to twist it open but to no avail.  "Awww... MOUSES!  Peep has gone and locked my office door."  He sat back on his haunches, debating what to do next.

"Peep #1 is out in the garden," Seville's brother, Rushton, informed him. "Why don't you just go ask her to open up the door?"

"Nah, that won't work," muttered Seville.  "I'm thinking there's some reason I'm not supposed to be in the office by myself."

"Probably has something to do with your occasional spraying issues," suggested Rushy.

Seville glared at Rushton.  "You pee on a peep ONE time and ya never hear the end of it."

"Only the once?" questioned Rushton.  "I'm pretty sure it was at least twice."

"Nope, just the once.  Well just the once for Peep #1.  I might have peed on Peep #2 too but I'm pretty sure I only peed once per peep.  These things happen.  They can't be helped.  But my point is, peeps never let these things go.  If Nissy were here, he would say MOUSES!"

"Yup," Rushton nodded in agreement, "Nissy would say MOUSES! to that, for sure."

The two cats sat in silence, staring at the locked office door.

Several minutes passed before Rushton finally spoke up.  "Well what are you going to do?  Today's Sunday and you have a blog post to write."

"I know...  I know..." muttered Seville.  "Wait, I do know!  I'll pick the lock.  Should be easy enough. Peeps do it on television all the time.  I need a hairpin or something, I think.  Would you happen to have a hairpin on paw, Rushy?"

Rushton rolled his eyes.  "I may be a long-haired kitty but I most definitely do not use hairpins."

"No matter.  I see something else I can use."  Reaching over to his brother, Seville plucked a long, white whisker. "This will work nicely," he smiled.

"Ouch!" Rushton cried.  "For mousin' out loud...  That hurt!  I'm getting out of here before you pull out any more of my whiskers.  You had better watch out or I'll go tell the peep what you're doing."

"Tell if you like, Rushy, but having given me that whisker makes you an accomplice.  You had better keep that in mind."

"I didn't give you anything.  You STOLE that...  Awww...  MOUSES!" and with that, Rushton headed into the kitchen to look for a snack.

Seville beamed when he heard the locking mechanism on the office door make a welcoming click. The doorknob turned easily now and he pushed open the door.  "Now to get to work," and he trotted over to the desk.  Once turned on, the computer hummed to life.

"Whatcha doing?" Mason asked after running into the office and plunking her tail down next to Seville.  "Rushy said you were starting work on your blog post."

Seville glanced over at his sister, Mason.  Noticing that she appeared to be out of breath he asked, "Better question is, what were you doing?  You're panting."

"I was outside in the garden, supervising Peep #1.  She's digging up primroses for the animal shelter plant sale," answered Mason.

"The peep is selling off the primroses?  Nissy's primroses?  MOUSES!"

"Just the extras.  I was very careful to allow her to dig up only the extras.  The ones we don't need."  Mason began to wash a paw but between licks, added, "Besides, the sale is still two weeks away.  If she digs up any of the wrong ones, we can just plant them back in the garden when she's not looking."

Seville nodded in agreement.  "Yeah, we've done that before.  Drives the peep crazy."

"I think you mean crazier," giggled Mason, emphasising the 'er' at the end of the word.  She began to work on washing her other front paw before asking, "What are you going to blog about?"

"Not sure yet.  Hmmm....  Password!  Blogger wants a password?  MOUSES!"

"Nissy was very pro passwords," Mason informed Seville.  "Surely you knew that."

"Someone looking for a password?" Anderson asked, strutting into the office, flipping his floofy tail this way and that.  "Nissy lock you out of the blog?"

"Looking that way."  Seville typed in MOUSES! only to find that it wasn't correct.  "MOUSES!"

"Try nip," suggested Anderson.

"Or niphead," offered Mason.

"How about cheesynippizza?" offered Andy.

Seville typed in FursibsDriveYouCrazy but alas, that didn't work either.

"Why not just go and ask Peep #1?" suggested Mason.  "I'm pretty sure she knows all the passwords Nissy used."

"No....  She doesn't know I'm here in the office," explained Seville, rubbing his temple with a paw.

"Oh yeah," nodded Mason.  "It's because of your spraying issues, isn't it?"

Seville rolled his eyes to the sky.  "I've said it before and I'll say it again.  You pee on a peep once...."

"Two peeps, once each," Mason quickly added.

"...and you never hear the end of it.  Peeps just never let these things go."

"Unlike Seville," Anderson whispered in Mason's ear, "who thinks nothing of letting go when peeing on peeps."

"MOUSES!" cried Seville.

Feeling a presence standing behind them, all three cats turned slowly to find Peep #1 standing there, hands on hips and looking rather displeased.  They all spun their heads back to face the computer screen in unison, donning the most innocent-looking expressions possible.


"My little blogmeister," said the peep.  "Nissy's Blogger password was my little blogmeister, no spaces."

Seville typed in the suggested password and the blog opened at last.  "I'm in!  Thanks Peepers.  You're a peep.  And I mean that only in the most nicest of ways."

"I know you do," said Peep #1, giving Seville a kiss on the back of his head.  "Just don't spray anything in here, okay?  No spraying allowed."

"I only..." began Seville before stopping himself short.

Sometimes it was better to just let things go, he thought to himself.  Arguing with the peep about the difference between peeing once on each of two peeps and peeing on one peep, twice, could wait for another day.  Maybe he could blog about it sometime. Yup, definitely a good blog post idea but not for today.  Today he would blog about....

MOUSES!