full of spunk

That darned cat is full of spunk.

Full of somethin', anyway.

But Peepers says it's spunk.  SAYS.  Jury is still out on that, I think.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, it's like this: Saffron has more energy than a million billion kajillion cats all put together.  It's a fact.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, the other day Saffy Saffron Sassafras was lyin' down in the front flower bed that has hardly any flowers right now on account of Peepers' slackin'.  But that's another story for another time, I suppose.  There bein' so few flowers out there - due to Peepers' peepified slackin' - that I can count 'em on my two front paws, I mean.  The bit 'bout Saffy Saffron Sassafras is the story I'm about to tell you right now.

MOUSES!

So there he was, lyin' there, watchin' birdies flit here and there and just about everywhere before landin' - more often than not - on the little tiered red bird feeder.

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', how can a cat be full of spunk if he's just lyin' around, watchin' birdies fly past?

Well I'm gettin' to that!

MOUSES!

The thing is, there he was, lyin' there, doin' not much of anythin' but watchin' a little chickadee who had landed on one of the uh...  tiers of that tiered feeder, I suppose, when all of a sudden...

All of a sudden...

All of a sudden, that Saffy Saffron Sassafras leapt in the air and the next thing I knew, he was clutchin' the bottom tier of that tiered feeder with his front paws and swayin' in the wind.

I swear, it was like watchin' Kurt Browning serenely glidin' across the ice before, seemingly out of nowhere, landin' a quad.

MOUSES!

But back to that ol' brother of mine who, at that moment, was still clingin' to the bird feeder and swayin' in the wind.

"GET DOWN FROM THERE!" I yelled.  "GET DOWN FROM THERE RIGHT NOW!!!  PEEPERS SEES YOU BOTHERIN' THE BIRDIES AND NEITHER ONE OF US WILL HEAR THE END OF IT, FOR SURE."

Still swingin', Saffron glared at the birdie now sittin' on the roof of the house, safely out of harms way.  And I swear to you, my friends...  I SWEAR that little birdie was laughin' at him.

MOUSES!

Well long story short, Saffron let go of the bird feeder and landed on all four paws in the almost flowerless flower garden; the birdie got a good laugh; and I, my friends, gave my brother a good chewin' out, explainin' that at this house we cats are far too civilised to go 'round chasin' the birds.

No, I didn't chew him.  I didn't bite him at all!  It's an expression, you see, meanin' that...

Oh, you know what I mean.

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.

seventy-three weeks

Hum-dee-dum-dee-dum-dee-DUM....

Hum-dee-dum-dee-dum-dee-DOE...

Oh hello there, my friends!  Stoppin' by to check in on me, are you?  Stoppin' by to see how I'm doin'?  Well that's pretty darn thoughtful of you, my friends, but...

BUT HOW DO YOU THINK I'M DOIN', HAVIN' BEEN STUCK HERE WITH A COUPLE OF GOOD-FOR-NOTHIN' PEEPS FOR THE LAST SEVENTY-THREE WEEKS?

That's three hundred and ninety-seven million, three hundred and fifty-three thousand, six hundred cat seconds, you know.

MOUSES!

And let me tell you somethin', my friends: even with time, it doesn't get any easier.

MOUSES!

So last time I blogged, I told you all 'bout the chipmunk who has kinda moved in.  Not into the house, thank goodness, but definitely moved into my yard, which is bad enough, for sure.

Time before that, I blogged all 'bout those bees.  The bees are my friends, and I know 'em all by name, so their buzzin' around isn't problematic, at all.

But today I wanna blog about the birds.  Yup, we've got birds.  We've got big ones and little ones and all sorts in between.

MOUSES!

It's kinda weird, to tell you the truth, 'cause the birdies have been buzzin'...  Sorry, FLYIN' about.  It's the bees who buzz.

Anyway...

So anyway, the birds have been flyin' about here like my garden has turned into Grand Central Station, or somethin' like that.  Grand Central Station minus the trains, of course, on account of my not havin' any trains in my yard, and...

Oohhh...  Now there's a thought!  Imagine my havin' my very own workin' train right here in my yard.  One of those steam engine ones 'cause I like how they look and how they go, Choo-CHOO...  And I'd have to have a conductor of course, 'cause I'd wanna ride 'round my yard in style, sippin' niptinis and such.  And if there's coal, I'M not shovellin' that coal into the furnace or whatever it is that powers the train 'cause that coal might get on my gorgeous marmalade furs and...  *shudders*  I don't wanna even think about that.

*furiously scribbles note to himself regarding cat-sized working trains bein' sold on E-Bay*

But I digress.  I believe we were talkin' about birds.

So we've got the chickadees and the woodpeckers and some smallish brown ones.  Couple mourning doves, too.  A few squawking blue jays, as well.  And MY GOSH can those blue jays squawk.

MOUSES!

And then there are the crows.  FYI, crows squawk, too.

MOUSES!

But the chickadees, my friends...  The chickadees!  They dart in and out of the veranda like there's no tomorrow, and you know what?  They're not afraid of the peep!  Can you imagine?  Nope, they're not afraid of her at all.

No one ever said they were smart.

MOUSES!

Saffron, on the other paw...

No, the chickadees don't appear to be afraid of Saffron.  Maybe they should, but apparently they aren't.

But Saffron...

Well Saffron is still afraid of the peep.

Although she does speak to Peepers these days.  Quite a lot, in fact.  Good thing Peepers doesn't understand Saffron's accent 'cause I understand Saffron quite well, and if the peep knew what Saffron was sayin'...

Well let's just say, the peep would not be amused.

You know, for a ladycat, Saffron has quite the potty mouth on her.

MOUSES!

Peepers is learnin', however.  She does seem to have figured out that when Saffron fizzes at her, it's not some kinda weird term of endearment.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  Peepers isn't givin' up, though.  She says her pride can handle a few fizzes.

Must keep that in mind, for myself.

No, Saffron doesn't fizz at me.

But I might wanna fizz at the peep!

MOUSES!

But I believe we were talkin' about chickadees, and the chickadees never fizz.  Nope, no fizzin', at all.  They just swoop in and out callin' chick-a-dee-dee-dee, chick-a-dee-dee-dee...

Seems to be the only word they know.

MOUSES!

And I swear, sometimes when they fly onto the veranda, and even though Peepers is standin' right there, they fly within a paw's reach.

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?

MOUSES!

Now I know I put my paw down 'bout any ideas Peepers might be havin' of adoptin' a chipmunk as my brother from another mother, formerly known as dinner.  I put my paw down 'bout that, for sure.  In fact, I believe I put all four paws down, at the time.  I, Seville the Cat, REFUSE to have a brother I might confuse with supper.

MOUSES!

But a chickadee brother...

I mean, dinner.

Flyin' dinner...

No, Peepers won't likely go for that.

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.

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.

here chickadee-dee-dee

Here chickadee-dee-dee...  Here chickadee-dee-dee...  Chicka-chicka-chickadee-dee-dee...  Here chickadee-dee-dee...

Oh, hello there Mr. Chickadee.  What a nice surprise!  How very nice of you to visit.

Why yes, yes I did. You're absolutely right about that.  I did call.  I'm glad you got my message.

Now tell me, Mr...

You are a mister, right?  You are a mister and not a missus?  Yeah, that's what I thought.  So tell me Mr. Chickadee, I've been meaning to ask you...

What's that Peepers?  Stop bothering the birds, you say?  Why, I'm not bothering them at all.  How very rude of you to even insinuate that I might be bothering my good friend, Mr. Chickadee, here. By the way, have the two of you met?

Never mind her, Chicky.  You don't mind if I call you Chicky, for short, do you?  If you like, you can call me Sivvers.

Why do I call the peep, Peepers, you ask?  Well I don't know.  'Cause it's her name, I guess.  Never really thought of it before.  Pardon me?  Does she peep?  Does Peepers peep?  Ummm...  NO.  I've heard her squawk, though.  Yeah, I think one could call that sound she sometimes makes a squawk.  Loud, harsh, discordant, noisy...  Almost like a cackle.  Oh yeah, I've heard the peep squawk, for sure.  Anyway...

Anyway, like I was saying, I've been meaning to ask you a question.  I've been watching you flitting about the garden, this way and that, and I've noticed that even though you're a very good flier, you don't always fly.  You seem to hop a lot.  Hop like a bunny.  You know, hop like a bunny as in rabbit as in the guy with the big ears and fluffy tail who hides eggs at Easter.  Yeah, just like that.

I've seen you climbing, too.  And might I add, you're a very good climber by the way.  I watched you climb up that big ol' oak tree at the end of the driveway today and let me tell you, I've climbed that tree quite a few times, myself, and it's not an easy tree to climb.  Gotta dig your claws right in and haul yourself up.  Of course, there's far more of me to haul than there is of you so I guess that might be why you're so light on your paws...

Do you have paws there, Chicky?  Do you call those feet of yours paws?  Or would they be hands?

What am I saying?  MOUSES!  Of course they're not hands.  Hands are at the ends of arms and your wings are your arms.  Silly me.

But my point is, you climbed that oak tree like a pro. Like a professional climber, for sure.  But why?  Why-oh-why did you not just fly?

Thing is, I have some concerns.  You met my peep, right?  Well let me tell you something about that there peep.  She's a peep.  'Nough said.  MOUSES!

You need more of an explanation than that, huh? FINE.  Let me put it this way, then.  The peep is a peep which means she's human.  Human beings have weird ways of doing things, you see.  Human beings can't seem to let things be.  As a cat, live and let live is my motto but peeps?  Nope, peeps just don't seem capable of leaving anything alone.

Humans do all sorts of stuff that might harm a bird like you, you see.  They'll spray chemicals on the lawn and in the garden.  Yeah, could you believe it?  Then when you go to munch on some seeds from said garden, those seeds will be all contaminated with all sorts of horrible stuff.  Horrible poisons and things.  Now if you're lucky, you'll just hork it up but some of those chemicals will kill you as quickly as they'll make a Chicky hork.  MOUSES!

It's the humans who are also responsible for killing off a lot of the insects 'round here which is why, in case you were wondering, you've been so hungry as of late.  Must be hard to feed a growing family with the food supply being so short.  I have to tell you, I feel for you Chicky.  I surely do, indeed.

Now actually, my peep doesn't spray the garden with anything at all so in that way, she's a pretty good peep.  But other peeps?  You can't trust 'em as far as you can throw 'em, my man, and judging by the length of your wings there, I don't think you could throw 'em at all.  MOUSES!

Now I can't do anything 'bout the chemicals and the lack of food and stuff and hunger you've been feeling but warn you.  Humans just don't listen, you see.  Not sure if it's because they can't or because they won't although truth be told, I'm thinking the latter.  Peeps don't like to hear stuff they don't wanna hear, you see.  They have a tendency to ignore the truth.  MOUSES!

But as for all the hopping and climbing, might I make a suggestion.

My peep may not spray the garden with poisons and things but almost as frightening as that is her tendency to come up behind you, scoop you up and kiss you all over.  Well not all over, really. She does limit her kisses to the tops of heads, backs of necks, tummies and an occasional paw but still...  It's really quite disgusting.  You ever been scooped up and kissed in front of a nosey-neighbouring-cat who's just looking for some reason to mock you?  I have and let me tell you, I have nightmares 'bout that to this very day.

Now I've never seen the peep scoop up a bird for kisses and cuddles but as she is human and therefore prone to doing crazy human things, I wouldn't put it past her at all.  And if you, my friend, are hopping about and climbing trees within her reach...  Well let's just say that that is one picture I would not wanna paint, far less be part of. MOUSES!

So might I suggest that you do a little more flying and a little less hopping so as to steer clear of the peep.  To keep out of her reach and stuff.  You know, to avoid any unnecessary kisses and cuddles and the like.  A ten-minute cuddle with kisses from a peep is something you will never forget.  Never forget in a bad way.  In a very bad way, indeed.  Believe me, I say this from personal experience.  MOUSES!