thirty-two weeks

Social distancin', people.  SOCIAL DISTANCIN'!!!

What?  What's that you're sayin' there, little birdy?

Oh.

Hmmm...

Well then...

Social distancin' birdies.  SOCIAL DISTANCIN'!!!

I'm tellin' ya, those birdies are gettin' WAY TOO CLOSE to me, for comfort.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', why would I, Seville THE CAT, mind little birdies gettin' close enough for me to reach out a paw, and...

'Cause peeps frown over my reachin' out my paws to touch birdies, that's why.

MOUSES!

If you remember, my last blog post was about those blue jays eatin' us out of house and home and if you're wonderin' if they're still doin' that, wonder no more.  They are still doin' it, for sure.

MOUSES!

But this here post isn't just 'bout blue jays.  No sirree.  This here post is 'bout blue jays and chickadees and woodpeckers, too!

Not to mention a squirrel.

MOUSES!

This mornin' I made myself comfy on the love seat out there on the veranda waitin' for the Bird TV show to begin, when all of a sudden, the veranda EXPLODED with a flurry of activity.  Next thing I knew, there were birds of all sorts flyin' about.  No fewer than six blue jays were knockin' about the cylindrical feeders and scatterin' seed all over the ground, chickadees were dartin' in and out of the globe theatre..  I mean, feeder, and a woodpecker was hangin' from the suet one and peckin' away.  Mere minutes later, a big ol' grey squirrel came along and decided to join in on the fun.

Now you'd think that I, Seville THE CAT, would appreciate such a lively show, but...

BUT THE BIRDIES WERE GETTIN' WAY TOO CLOSE TO ME, FOR SURE!

HAVE THEY NEVER HEARD OF SOCIAL DISTANCIN', THESE BIRDS?

I'm tellin' ya, peeps here in Nova Scotia have been social distancin' for the last one hundred and seventy-four million, one hundred and eighty-two thousand, four hundred cat seconds, due to this ol' pandemic thingy, but birds?

APPARENTLY BIRDS CAN'T SOCIAL DISTANCE FOR EVEN ONE HOUR.

MOUSES!

Now I don't expect them to social distance 'mongst themselves.  I did, but I don't anymore, for that was a waste of expectations, for sure.

BUT THE LEAST THEY CAN DO IS SOCIAL DISTANCE FROM ME.

Why, you ask?  Why do I want those blue jays and chickadees and woodpeckers to keep six paws away from me at all times?

Well...

Well 'cause I'm a cat.  And cats, given the opportunity of havin' a blue jay sit there starin' at 'em merely inches away, are likely to succumb to temptation, and...

DON'T GET YOUR KNICKERS IN A TWIST THERE, WOMAN!  I TOLD 'EM TO SOCIAL DISTANCE AND THEY DIDN'T, SO IT'S NOT MY FAULT IF I CATCH A BIRDIE OR TWO.  NOT MY FAULT AT ALL!  IF THEY WERE ABIDIN'  BY THE PUBLIC HEALTH DIRECTIVES, THEY'D BE OUT OF MY REACH AND YOUR KNICKERS WOULD REMAIN UNTWISTED.

MOUSES!

As I was sayin' before havin' to explain somethin' to Peepers, when birdies fail to social distance, cats are likely to succumb to temptation and get in trouble from their peeps.

That cheeky blue jay is just lucky he can fly faster than I can swat.

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.

what a pig

What a pig.

WHAT. A. PIG.

WHAT A MESSY, GOOD-FOR-NOTHIN'-SLOPPY-EATIN' PIG.

MOUSES!

No Peepers, I'm not talkin' about you.

This time.

MOUSES!

Hey Peepers!  Come take a gander at this.

NO, it's not a goose.  What the mouses are you talkin' about, woman?  What the....

OH...  I see: gander...  Like in male goose.  Sometimes I really wonder 'bout you.  *scratches behind an ear*  You truly are a very silly peep.

MOUSES!

But it is a bird, I'm talkin' about, here.  Yup, it's a blue jay bird.  A messy, good-for-nothin'-sloppy-eatin' blue jay kinda bird.

What do you MEAN I should be nice?  Have you watched these blue jays eatin' at the feeders?  Have you?  HAVE YOU?  Have you honestly watched 'em at all?  'Cause let me tell you somethin', Peepers.  Let me tell you...

Let me tell you, although they may be pretty birds with their bright blue plumage and stuff, THEY EAT LIKE PIGS.  PIGS, I TELL YOU!  Pigs.

Just look at that one goin' at the feeder over there.  He sits on the edge and 'cause he's too heavy for the feeder - probably on account of his stuffin' his mouth with a whole feeder's worth of seed yesterday - he tips it way over, practically on its side.  Then he sticks his beak in and starts pushin' the seeds outta the feeder and onto the ground.  Sweeping 'em away in a mad sweepin' frenzy!  THEN, after he's emptied out a good inch of seed, he swoops down onto the ground and stuffs his face with bird seed 'til...

'Till...

'TILL HE'S READY TO FLY UP TO THE FEEDER AND START ALL OVER AGAIN.

HE'S EATIN' US OUT OF HOUSE AND HOME!

MOUSES!

And if that's not enough, the little chickadees are havin' a hard time gettin' to the feeders to eat.

AND...

AND...

And I'm thinkin', Peepers...

Don't look at me like that.  I THINK. 

Of all the cheeky good-for-nothin' peeps.

MOUSES!

I'M THINKIN' that the more money you have to spend on feedin' those darned sloppy eatin' birds, the less money you'll have for the important things in life, like...

Well...

ME.

MOUSES!

Go on out there, Peepers.  Go tell off those birds.  SOMEBODY has gotta do it and, quite frankly, they're more likely to listen to you than me.  You know, on account of their flyin' off when they see me comin' because I'm a cat.

Plus...

Well...

Well I'm currently in need of a snack.

AND...

And the blue jays would probably appreciate my gettin' that snack in the kitchen and not out on the veranda 'cause if there's one thing birds like less than cats, it's a hungry cat in need of a snack.

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.

the voice

Melodious, dulcet tones...

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', I, Seville the Cat, cannot possibly be talking 'bout my peep.

And do you know what?

YOU'RE RIGHT.

MOUSES!

Hehehehehehehe...


So about whom am I talkin', you ask?

Could it be...

Could it be...

COULD IT BE, ME?

Meh, probably not.  To be totally honest - which, by the way, is the best kinda honest to be - my voice is not overly melodious.

Although to be TOTALLY honest, one of the reasons my voice is not melodious is on account of my not likin' the way the word, melodious, sounds.  I mean, it sounds kinda like...

ODIOUS.

MOUSES!

Now if we were talking 'bout Mason's litter box habits...

'Cept Peep #1 says I'm not allowed to talk 'bout my sister's litter box habits anymore.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of Mason, her voice isn't melodious, either.

Mason's voice is more like uh...

Hmmm...

Ever heard a blue jay squawk?  Or better yet, ever heard a whole big angry hoard of blue jays squawkin'?

Yeah, well THAT'S what Mason sounds like when she speaks.

Of course, she only speaks when she isn't purrin', and Mason does purr a lot.  It's sorta her thing, you see.  Purrin', I mean.  But when she's not purrin', she's squawkin' like a crazed hoard of angry blue jays, for sure.

Which, at times, might be confused with a nest full of baby crows askin' for food.

Or a nest of hungry dinosaurs, too.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of blue jays, NOTHIN' gets 'em goin' better than when they hear my Peep #1 doin' her caterwaulin' routine.

Yup, word on the street is that orders have come down, straight from the upper echelons in Ottawa, for Peep #1 to stop singin', these days.  Yup, TOTAL truth.  TOTALLY.  I heard it from a guy, who heard it from a guy, who heard it from a weasel, and everythin'.

MOUSES!

Now Andy's voice...

Well that's a chirrupy kinda thing.

'Cept...

'Cept he chirrups in a really needy and demandin' kinda way.

ESPECIALLY when there's food on the go.

MOUSES!

But back to those melodious, dulcet tones I mentioned before.   Whose voice sounds anythin' like that?

Well...

WELL THAT WOULD BE RUSHTON, OF COURSE.

MOUSES!

Yeah, my brother Rushy does have a really nice voice.   He's not a blue jay impersonatin' cat, for sure.  And he doesn't sound like Peep #1 caterwaulin'...  I mean, SINGIN', either.  He actually sounds pretty nice.  Yup, Rushy has a super sweet voice, for sure.

Not super sweet in a sickly kinda way, of course.

Sweet as in...

Well...

SWEET.

MOUSES!

freak out!

"I thought we had cats," the peep fumed, placing her hands on her hips in a disgruntled fashion.  "I THOUGHT WE HAD CATS."

"What's up, Peepers?" I asked.  "Havin' a bad day, are we?"

The peep narrowed her eyes.  "Since you ask, Seville, the blue jays have been making a mess of my potted lettuce seeds."

I looked over at the plant pots in which the peep had planted her lettuce the day before and sure enough, there was a blue jay struttin' about in one, just like he owned the joint.  The bird looked over at me and nonchalantly gave me the feather.  MOUSES!

"So uh...  What's your point there, Peepers?  What does that there blue jay have to do with us cats?" I asked.

The peep let out a loud sigh.  Loud enough for at least half the world to hear, I'm sure.  "You'd think that in a multi-cat household, the birds would stay away from my plants."

"Well if you don't want the birds to visit," I began, "you should probably stop feeding 'em."

"I'm NOT feeding them," she replied.  "I'm certainly not feeding them lettuce seed."

I screwed up my nose.  "Um..  APPARENTLY, Peepers, you are.  MOUSES!"

"Ugh," and Ol' Peepers spun on her heels and began to head for the house.

"No need to freak out about it!" I called out to her.  Then, turnin' to my fur-sibs, I began clickin' my claws to an upbeat beat.

And now, for a musical interlude from the Back Street Cats.

"Aaahh FREAK OUT!" we sang.  "Le freak, see'est Chic.  FREAK OUT!"

Peep #1 turned back to face us again, staring at my fur-sibs and me with disgust.

"Don't speak, Monique," we sang.

"Who the mouses is Monique?" the peep asked.

"I don't know," I answered, "but whoever she is, her name rhymes with speak."

At that moment, the blue jay dancin' in the plant pots with the lettuce seeds, stopped dancin' and gave me the feather again.

Or maybe he was givin' it to the peep.

MOUSES!

"Freak out!  Peep's seeds, your beak," we continued to sing.

The peep rolled her eyes.

"Plant more, next week," I suggested, all the while keepin' in tune.

The peep threw her arms up in the air.  "HAS THE WHOLE WORLD GONE CRAZY?" she cried out to no one in particular.  She looked like she was about to give up on the conversation.  Either that or...  You know...  Freak out.  I looked over at the bird again who was now actively pecking away at the soil in the plant pot.  Every now and then he'd find a lettuce seed and swallow it whole.

Not that one would not swallow lettuce seeds whole, mind you.   I mean, they are kinda small.  Not worth the bother of cutting 'em up with a knife, for sure.

"Aren't you going to do ANYTHING about that bird?" the peep cried.

I shrugged my shoulders.  "Like what?"

"Like...  Like...  Like scare him off.  Shoo him away.  ACT LIKE CATS, for goodness sake."

I looked at my fur-sibs and my fur-sibs looked right back at me.  We knew exactly what we needed to do.  Huddling together, we formed a plan of action.

And now, for another musical interlude from the Back Street Cats: 

"They'll be swinging, swaying, records playing.  Dancing in the street," we sang.  "Doesn't matter what you wear, even feathers in your hair.  Every cat, grab a bird.  Birds right 'round the world... WILL BE dancin' in the street.  They'll be swinging, swaying, plant pot playing..."

The peep just stood there, her mouth hangin' halfway to the ground.  Gathering her senses, she calmly stated, "You cats are all nuts.  Every single one of you is nuts.  NUTS."

"Nuts?" I questioned.  "Now if you wanna talk nuts, Peepers, we should consult the squirrels.  HEY BIRD!" I called out to the blue jay.  "You know where the squirrels are today?  You seen any of  'em hangin' about?"

The blue jay once again gave me the feather.  Then he went back to struttin' about in the plant pot, lookin' for more lettuce seed.

"Look, Peepers, we tried," I sighed.  "Like I said before: If you don't wanna attract the birds, you've gotta stop feeding 'em.  They seem to really like lettuce seed so uh...  So why don't you start by stop feeding 'em that.  MOUSES!'