duh

Duh.  Of COURSE I do, Peepers.  Of course!

Kinda goes without sayin', you know.

MOUSES!

Umm...  That's not a few.

NO.  No, it isn't.  Two is not a few.  Two is a couple.  Everyone knows a few is more than a couple.  A few is more than two.

Don't you know anythin' about treats?

MOUSES!

Okay, so TECHNICALLY, I suppose, three might be a few.  Three is more than two.

Barely.

But techno mumbo jumbo aside, three will simply not do.

MOUSES!

Yeah, yeah...  Yeah, that's right, Peepers.  When Saffy and I ask for a few treats, we're thinkin' more along the lines of seven, eight, nine...  Maybe two dozen.  

You know, that sorta thing.

So three doesn't cut it, you see.

MOUSES!

I DON'T CARE what the package says is a serving size.  Packages can be wrong.

PLUS, I've seen YOU eatin' cookies.  

Okay, so I've never actually seen you eat two dozen mint-chocolate cookies, Peepers.  You do have me there.

BUT...

BUT IF I DID see you sit down and eat two dozen mint-chocolate cookies, I wouldn't give you a hard time about it.  Nope, I wouldn't do that, at all.  I, Seville the Cat, would NEVER give you a hard time 'bout eatin' two dozen mint-chocolate cookies all in one go.

'Cause that would be stupid.  Givin' you a hard time 'bout eatin' so many mint-chocolate cookies, I mean.  Nope, I'd be far better off takin' notes, gatherin' proof, and usin' said proof to my advantage when the need arises, and...

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

OF COURSE I WOULD USE proof of your mint-chocolate cookie-eatin' habits to my advantage.  What kinda cat do you think I am?

Don't answer that.

I'll give you an answer to use.

Smart, Peepers.  Smart is the word for which you're lookin'.  A smart kitty like me gathers proof and sets it aside to use at a later date, and...

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

It. Is. NOT. Blackmail.  It's uh...

Well um...

Hmm...

Okay, so blackmail it is.

MOUSES!

And now that we're on the same page...

Kinda.

So now that we're on the same page, Peepers, let's just assume I have hard evidence of your mint-chocolate cookie-eatin' habits.  

NOW PAW OVER MY TREATS.

And don't you dare stop at a few.

MOUSES!

Oh Peepers...

Oh Pee-pers...

OH PEEEE-PERRRS....

Not answerin', huh?

Hey, PEEPERS!

Ah...  Here she comes now.

MOUSES!

So Peepers, I, Seville the Cat, was just sittin' here in the family room, thinkin' to myself how I was feelin' somewhat uh...  Peckish.  Yeah, peckish is exactly how I feel.  You think you could go get me a treat?

Well that was rude.  That ol' peep of mine just spun on her heels, and walked right out of the room.

MOUSES!

Oh, I know.  I bet she's DESPERATE to get me those treats as fast as she can.  I bet she was in such a hurry, she didn't even have time to tell me what she was doin'.  Bet she'll be right back with my treats, lickety-split.

Hmmm...  It's been like four minutes and she's not yet back with my treats.

MOUSES!

Oh Pee-pers...

OH PEEEE-PERRRS...

WHERE ARE WE ON GETTIN' THOSE TREATS?

She's not answerin' me again.  I'll wait another minute.

Okay, so I'll give her two.  Two minutes, that is.

You know, I'm startin' to think the peep isn't gettin' me my treats.

MOUSES!

Andy, you wanna go check in on the peep?  See if she's gettin' my treats ready?  See if maybe she's havin' a tough time openin' a new package or somethin' like that?

Because.  Because I'm far too weak from hunger to get up and walk those ten steps into the kitchen, myself.  That's why.  Whereas you, brother dear...  Well you could use the exercise, for sure.

MOUSES!

FINE.  But don't expect me to ask her to bring you treats, too.  You'll have to do that, yourself.

MOUSES!

Oh there you are, Peepers.  FINALLY.  I was beginnin' to think you might have gotten lost, or somethin', between here and the kitchen.  You know, 'cause it IS a whole ten steps.

MOUSES!

So uh...  So did you bring me some treats?

What?  No treats?  But...

But...

But...

BUT WHY?

What do you MEAN my treats are out in the kitchen if I want 'em?  OF COURSE I want 'em.  That's why I asked you to go get 'em in the first place!  And you expect me to get up and walk ALL THAT WAY, myself?  WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

Seriously, what do you mean?  I'm not likin' where this conversation is goin', Peepers.  I'm used to havin' you wait on me, paw and paw.  I'm NOT used to havin' to go...  FORAGE  for my treats, like some kinda animal.   Or one of those peep foragers one sees on television these days.  I'm USED to havin' you show me the respect I deserve...

Scratch that.  I seem to remember my coughin' up a hairball, this mornin', near...

Okay, so it was actually more like IN the shoe, but still...

I'm USED to havin' you show me MORE respect than I may or may not deserve, and...

What, AGAIN with the spinnin' on your heels and walkin' out of the room bit?  And while I, Seville the Cat, am talkin' to you, no less?

AND STILL, NO PAW-DELIVERED TREATS.

MOUSES!

Boy-oh-boy, what IS this world comin' to with peeps not behavin' like peeps should?  Peeps behavin' like...  Like...  Like unsophisticated, uncultured, uncouth, heathenish SWINE.

I mean, it's bad enough I'm not bein' served my meals on the good china and crystal, but now I don't even get room service?

MOUSES!

Andy, and just where to do you think YOU'RE goin', huh?

You're WHAT?  You're goin' into the kitchen to go eat MY treats?

MY TREATS?

Well, there's only one thing for it then.

OUTTA MY WAY!  I'M COMIN' THROUGH.  FOR I'M ON A MISSION TO GET ME MY TREATS.

MOUSES!

read me a story

"Read me a story, Peepers.  Please?  I'm havin' a hard time fallin' asleep, but I just KNOW I could fall asleep, lickety-split, if you were to read me a good story.  Doesn't matter which one.  Maybe a fairy tale or somethin'?  PLEASE?"

Seville curled up on the couch, and Peep #1 brought out The Big Book of Fairy Tales, a book containing many of Seville's favourite stories.  "Once upon a time," Peep #1 began.

Seville closed his eyes, and listened.

Once upon a time, a very useless nip grower, and her handsome marmalade cat, along with his four fur-sibs, lived in a tiny cottage at the edge of a terribly dark and scary forest...

"Mason!  MASON!  You'll NEVER guess what I just read.  It was on the front PAGE of the PAPER, and everythin'.  Apparently, the Weasel Syndicate has set up shop in the woods behind our house.  Right out there.  Behind OUR HOUSE.  Can you believe it?  MOUSES!"

Mason rolled her eyes.  "Oh for goodness sake, Seville.  You can't believe everything you read.  Haven't you ever heard of fake news?"

Seville scowled at his sister.  "It's not fake news, Sis.  It's real news.  Printed right there on the cover of somethin' called a tabloid, which is a paper tablet, I do believe.  MOUSES!"

Mason rolled her eyes again.  "Like I said, it's FAKE NEWS, Seville.  You really are the most gullible cat ever, aren't you?"

"I am not.  I'll prove it to you, too.  Prove that it's real, that is," and Seville stomped a paw.  "Tonight, when the peep is fast asleep, I'm gonna sneak out of the house and find those weasels, if it's the last thing I do."

"And it likely will be the last thing you do, if you go wandering around in the woods late at night.  You know perfectly well, Peep #1 doesn't allow us cats out after dark."

"Yeah, well what the peep doesn't know won't hurt her, will it?"

"The question is, will it hurt YOU."  Mason eyed her brother.  "I'll make you a deal.  We'll go in search of those supposed weasels, together, but if we don't - AND WE WON'T - find them within an hour, we'll come home straight away."

Seville considered the offer for a moment before breaking into a large smile.  "DEAL!" and he high-pawed his sister.  "We'll find those weasels before you know it, Sis, 'cause I KNOW they're out there.  Fake news...  Ha!  What WILL you come up with next?  MOUSES!"

Late that night, as the clock struck midnight, Mason and Seville quietly crept through the house, readying themselves for their journey.  Seville opened the back door and together, the two cats stepped out into the darkness.

They approached the edge of the terribly dark and scary forest, and Mason said nervously, "I don't think this is such a good idea after all, Seville."

Seville looked up at the night sky.  "It's a full moon tonight," he remarked.  "There's lots of moonlight, Mason.  It's practically like the middle of the day!  We're gonna be fine."

Entering the forest, Mason and Seville followed a well-trodden path.  Although they had travelled along this particular path many times, even Seville had to admit it looked a lot different at night.  There were shadows where shadows had never before been, and unfamiliar noises such as the hooting of owls could be heard.  He couldn't help but shudder.

After walking for ten minutes or so, the cats came to a fork in the path.  Seville sat back on his haunches and thought.  "Now which way do you suppose we should go?" he asked aloud.

"I think," Mason began, "we should turn right around, and head back home.  Sivvers, Weasel Syndicate or not, we're going to get ourselves lost out here.  If we're not lost already, that is."

"Got that covered!" and Seville pumped the air with a paw.  "I left us a trail to follow home."

Mason looked puzzled.

"Mason, while you've been unnecessarily fretting over our gettin' lost, I, Seville the Cat, have been doin' somethin' to prevent it.  I've been leavin' a trail for us to follow.  One that will take us right back home, when the time comes.  See this bag of treats?" and he held up a now half-empty bag of his favourite temptations.  "You probably thought I was munchin' on these while we've been walkin', but you'd be wrong about that.  Why, I haven't munched on a single one!  No sirree.  Instead, I've been droppin' a treat or two, every few feet, as we've been walkin' along."

Mason's jaw dropped and she looked truly amazed.  For even though Seville's incredible intelligence and foresight were obvious to practically EVERYONE ON THE PLANET, until now, this fact had escaped her.  "Well I'll be..."

Seville smiled, smugly.  "Check it out, Sis.  Come on, I'll show you," and he led Mason back along the path a few paces, pointing out dropped treats here and there, along the way.  "See?  This trail of treats will lead us straight home when the time comes."

Together they turned a corner, but stopped suddenly when they ran smack dab into one of their two long-haired marmie freak brothers.

"Anderson!" Seville cried.  "What the mouses are you doin' out here?"

"Ummph..." Andy mumbled, his mouth full.  Swallowing hard, he began again.  "What are YOU doing out here?" he asked.  "Peep #1 says we cats aren't allowed outside after dark, and we're especially not supposed to be wandering about in this terribly dark and scary forest."


"Since when did you start doin' what the peep says?" Seville asked.

"About half an hour ago, I think.  I wanted to see what you and Mason were up to.  I wanted to see what kind of trouble you were getting into, so that I could tell on you."

Seville peered at his brother.  "And by the way, what were you eatin', before?" he asked.  "Peep #1 also says, we shouldn't just put any ol' thing we find, into our mouths, and..."

Seville stopped mid-sentence as the truth dawned on him.  "ANDY!  WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY TRAIL OF TREATS?"

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

Be sure to return Wednesday to find out what happens next.

the sweet spot

"Whatcha doin' there, Toby?  Waitin' for Christmas?"

My sister, Tobias, turned toward me.   She stared at me for a moment before rollin' her eyes.  "Don't be ridiculous," she said.  "Christmas is a whole month away."

"Then you've got a long wait ahead of you.  Ba-dum-bump.  MOUSES!"

Toby let out a loud sigh.  "You're such a marmie," she said.

"Hey!  Don't diss the marmies."  I thought for a moment.  "Hmmm...  Don't diss the short-haired marmalade cats like me, that is.  You wanna diss those long-haired marmie freak brothers of mine, you go right on ahead.  MOUSES!"

Toby and I sat there for a moment, not knowin' what to say.  I looked up at the ceilin'.  I saw her lookin' down at the floor.  Finally, I asked, "So anyway, what are you doin'?  You never did say."

"I'm waiting," she answered.  She sounded bored.

"I knew it.  You ARE waitin' for Christmas, just like I said."

"No Seville.  I'm waiting for treats."

"Treats?  Why didn't you say so?  In that case, I'll wait right here with you," and I settled down beside my little sister.  "So uh...  Where are the treats?"

"They haven't appeared yet," was her reply.

"Appeared?  As in uh...  Well uh..."  I hesitated.  "Like magic?"

Toby thought for a moment.  "I wouldn't call it magic, exactly.  Peep #1 isn't a magician, is she?" she asked.

"Well I've never seen her pull a rabbit out of a hat.  But then, she wears the wrong kinda hats.  Ba-dum-bump.  MOUSES!"

Toby and I both got a chuckle out of that.

"So uh...  Might I assume," I began again, "that you're waitin' for treats from the peep?"

Toby nodded affirmatively.

"I never just sit around, waiting for the peep," I explained.  "I go get her when I need treats.  And meow.  Loudly.  The louder, the better, for sure.  And if that doesn't work, I jump up on the counter and help myself."

"I know," said Toby, through pursed lips.

"Then why don't you do the same?" I asked.

"The kitchen counter is too high for me to jump onto," she answered.  "I'm just a little cat, unlike you."

"Hmmm...  That's true.  You want me to jump up onto the counter for you?" I offered.

"No, I'll wait."

So we sat there, my sister and I, for a good long time - at least five minutes or so - before I got to my paws.  "Toby," I said, "this waitin' is for the birds.  I'm gonna jump up onto the counter and get us some treats."

"Honestly Seville, there really is no need.  Peep #1 will appear shortly, and when she d..."

"Appear as in magic?" I interrupted.

"No," Toby shook her head.  "As I previously stated, there's no magic involved.  Peep #1 will come into the kitchen before we know it, and when she does, she will give me some treats."

"Are you sure?" I asked.  "Are you really, really sure?  'Cause first of all, we've already been sittin' here for at least seven minutes now, and there's still no sign of the peep.  And even if she does appear soon, there's no guarantee that when she does, she'll give us treats.  Especially if you're just sittin' there like you are.  I mean, you're just sittin'!  Sittin' doin' nothin'.  Nothin' but sittin'," and for emphasis, I sat right back down on my butt.

"I'm not just sitting here, Seville.  Well yes, I suppose I am.  But," and she smiled somewhat knowingly, "do you realize where it is that I'm sitting?"

I looked first to my right, and then to my left, before answering.  "Uhhh...  the kitchen?"

Shaking her head, Toby asked, "How do you get yourself dressed in the morning?  Oh, that's right, you don't."

"Neither do you," I scowled.  "Fess up, little sister of mine.  How do you get treats to magically appear for you, just by sittin' here in the kitchen?  MOUSES!"

"I'm not sitting just anywhere in the kitchen," she answered.  "This," and she pawed at the floor, "is the sweet spot."

I narrowed my eyes.  "Sweet spot?  What the mouses is a sweet spot?  A spot where there's candy and stuff?  You're a cat, Toby.  Cats don't eat candy.  We eat treats."

Tobias let out another loud sigh.  "The sweet spot, Seville, is the best place for..."

And at that very moment, Peep #1 walked into the room.  "Oh hello there, Toby," she said.  "Hi sweetie," she added, looking at me.  "Are you two wanting some treats?" and she reached over to the counter, and opened up a bag of our favourite tempting morsels, before placing a few on the floor before each of us.

"Well I'll be...  It IS like magic," I said.

"Not magic," Toby replied, swallowing her first treat.  "As I told you before, this is the sweet spot.  Whenever Peep #1 sees me sitting here, right in this very spot, she gives me treats.  It works every time."

"I. Never. Knew.  MOUSES!"

I was about to stomp my paws and loudly complain - complain about having wasted so much time and energy findin' the peep on so very many occasions - when I thought better of doin' so, and instead, quietly munched on a treat.  After all, if the sweet spot worked as well as Toby was claiming it did, it was far better to ixnay on the complaints, and simply rest in the knowledge that now I, Seville the Cat, also knew of its existence.  I know knew where to sit and wait for the magical appearance of treats.  Clearly,Toby had trained the peep well, and there was no need for the peep to know that she had been trained.

MOUSES!