to sit on, of course

I need a throne, Peepers.  I'm definitely in need of a throne.

Why to sit on, of course.  Why do you think?

Oh never mind.  Don't bother answerin'.

'Cause your answer is likely to be stupid, that's why.

Most of 'em are.

MOUSES!

But back to the business at paw.  Peepers, I am most definitely in need of a throne.

MOUSES!

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

I already told you.  To sit on.  I need a throne to sit upon.  That's what thrones are for, you know.  Thrones are for providin' cats places to sit.

I swear, sometimes I think my peeps know absolutely nothin'.

MOUSES!

What?  Why?  Why do I need a throne for sittin'?

'CAUSE MY CROWN MIGHT FALL OFF IF I'M MOVIN' ABOUT.

By gosh and by golly, Peepers.  It's like I have to explain EVERYTHIN' to you.

MOUSES!

Okay, I shall endeavour to explain further.  When I'm wearin' my crown, Peepers, I need to sit still.  'Cause if a kitty goes runnin' around here, there, and everywhere whilst wearin' his crown, said crown is likely to fall off.  It's not like crowns are glued to your head, you know.  There's a balancin' act that has to be done.

So whilst wearin' my crown, I need a nice solid gold throne in order to sit down.

Okay, so it doesn't have to be solid gold.  Gold platin' should do.

What?

Fine.  Gold paint is okay.

I suppose.

But it definitely needs a soft, plush velvet cushion.  Royal blue.  Or emerald green.  You know, somethin' that enhances my gorgeous marmalade furs, and...

What?

IT HAS TO BE COMFY.  It has to be comfy so that I can sit on my throne for long periods of time.  And pose and look all regal and stuff whilst wearin' my crown which, by the way, really does need to be solid gold.  Gold as in gold.  As in real.  Real gold.  Not cheap, tacky ol' stuff.

And definitely not simply paint.

And...

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

Oh.

That.

Hmmm....

Okay, so perhaps I forgot to mention this earlier: I need a crown, Peepers.  I'm definitely in need of a solid gold crown.

'CAUSE IT'S IN KEEPIN' WITH MY IMAGE, YOU SEE.  I should be treated like royalty.  And if a kitty wants to be treated like royalty, a kitty needs to look the part.  King of the Jungle, and all that, and...

What?

KING OF THE GARDEN THEN.

Garden...  Jungle of weeds...  Whatever.

MOUSES!

But back to this crown.  Peepers, I'm not quite sure where one orders such things but perhaps you can figure it out.

I mean, you must be good for somethin'.

Right?

Probably.

I suppose.

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.

of mice and mischief

What to do, what to do...

Oh WHAT to do...

MOUSES!

Oh hello there, my friends.  I was just sittin' here, wonderin' what to do.  Should I work on my blog for a bit?  Should I work on my book?  Perhaps I should take a nap.

Decisions, decisions...

MOUSES!

Pardon me?  I didn't quite hear that.

Oh, I should get into mischief, you say.

Well...

Well normally I'd be all for that, but truth be told, I've already reached my mischief quota for the day.  Actually, the REAL truth be told, earlier this mornin' I managed to reach my mischief quota for two - count 'em, TWO - days.

MOUSES!

I'm so pleased that you asked.  OF COURSE I'll tell you what mischief I got into today.

You want the short list or the long one?

Detailed account or bullet points?

Just the highlights, you say?

Hmmm...

Well for starters, there was the bowl of kibble I managed to knock over.  Now to tell you the truth, that wasn't so much mischief as uh..  Um..  Well...  Well as a traffic incident of sorts.  I was goin' one way, the peep was goin' another, I decided to dodge her paws...  I mean, feet, by makin' a hard right, and that right took me right into the kibble.

So really...

So really, incident numero uno can be totally blamed upon the peep.

MOUSES!

The next highlight of the mornin' was the blinds in my office.

Long story short, the fly is now dead.

And so, by the way, are the blinds.  Definitely injured if not dead.

MOUSES!

Okay, so what's next on my list?  Oh I know, that would be 'bout the time the peep's yarn mysteriously went from one end of the family room to the other.  The peep wasn't knittin' at the time.  Nope, no sirree.  At the time, she was makin' brekkies.  FOR HERSELF.  Well, coffee, actually, but coffee is part of the peepified brekkies ritual, I do believe.

Yup, THAT'S right.  The kibble and the blind incidents - plus a couple of other borin' things which I didn't bother to mention on account of your wantin' just the highlights of my mischief-filled mornin' - occurred BEFORE Peepers' first cup of coffee.

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT?

No, seriously, do you?  'Cause from the looks she was givin' me, I kinda think the peep does.

MOUSES!

Okay, so where was I?

Oh yeah, the peep was busying herself with startin' a pot of coffee and I, Seville the Cat, found myself rather bored, so I went into the family room, hauled the ball of yarn the peep has been usin' out of her knittin' bag, and uh...  Um...  Well...  Well let's just say, afterwards, the ball had to be RE-wound.  Parts of it, anyway.  The parts that had not yet been used for knittin'.  Oh, and that was AFTER it was untangled, of course.  But to be fair, there was only ONE little itty bitty knot that I could see.  And to be REALLY fair, I'm not sure that ol' ball of yarn didn't come with the knot in the first place, so...

So really...

So really, that doesn't count as a mischief-makin' incident at all but rather, more of a helping-the-peep-to-find-the-knots-in-her-yarn-needing-to-be-untangled kinda thing.

MOUSES!

Well after the yarn business, I decided to take a nap.

At the top of the stairs leadin' to the basement.

We won't talk about that.

MOUSES!

And now...

Well now, at about quarter past ten in the mornin', although I HAD PREVIOUSLY THOUGHT my mischief quotas for both today and tomorrow had been all used up, I NOW REALISE some of my mischief was actually the peep's fault, and some of it wasn't even mischief at all.

So now I'm thinkin', although I could work on my book or my blog or even take another nap, what I REALLY should be doin' is checkin' on the nip mouse situation in the house and gettin' myself nipped.

And if you've never seen me gettin' into mischief while nipped...

WELL THEN YOU AIN'T SEEN NOTHIN' YET.

Please pardon my use of the so-called word, "ain't."

MOUSES!