Dear Mother Nature,

Dear Mother Nature.

Hmmm... 

Now should that be Mother or Mrs?

Hmmm...

Methinks Mother sounds best.  I'm not sure she's actually married.

MOUSES!

So let's start this thing again.

Dear Mother Nature.  It's fall.  It's October.  This here is Canada.  MOUSES!

That should do the trick.  Now to stuff my letter in an envelope, slap an old stamp on the thing, and get it mailed off, lickety-split.

MOUSES!

On the other paw...

On the other paw, perhaps I should elaborate a tad further.

Hmmm...

Dear Mother Nature.  It's fall.  It's October.  This here is Canada.  DID YOU FORGET?  MOUSES!

There!  Done.  At least on my end, it is.

MOUSES!

But on the other paw...

But on the other paw, I know, first paw, how ridiculous it is for someone - like a peep - to ask me if I forgot somethin' when I forgot somethin', BECAUSE IF I FORGOT IT, I've probably forgotten I've forgotten it, so even though I have forgotten somethin', I'll be darned if I can remember that I've forgotten it, never mind remember what it is I've forgotten.

Or somethin' like that.

Kinda like tellin' someone to look up how to spell a word you can't spell in the dictionary.

MOUSES!

So I'll take a stab at this once more.

Dear Mother Nature.  It's fall.  It's October.  This here is Canada.  DID YOU FORGET?  Did you forget that 'round about now it should be gettin' chilly?  Chilly enough for summer flowers to die back, and leaves to fall and get raked up, and gardens to be put to bed before winter?  AND CHILLY ENOUGH for kitties to actually WANT to snuggle under blankies and get cuddled up by cuddlin' kinda peeps?  DID you?  MOUSES!

Okay, I think that covers all my bases.

Oh, I know!

PS.  Don't bother replyin' to this letter by sendin' ME a letter.  Just get to work with the onset of fall, please.  Fall...  Autumn...  Whatever.  MOUSES!

PPS.  Please don't tell Peepers I'm the reason for the cooler weather.  I mean, I'm pretty sure she wants to get crackin' with the puttin'-the-garden-to-bed business, but you know peeps: they're fickle.  One minute they're complainin' it's too warm for this time of year and how first frost is later than ever, and goin' on about global warmin' and climate change, and extreme and scary weather; and the next minute, they're all up in arms 'bout it bein' too cold.

PPPS.  Hope you're not a peep, Mother Nature.  If you are, please don't take my peeps-are-fickle comment too personally.

PPPPS.  Actually, now that I think about, the complainin' about weather might be more of a Canadian thing.

Hmmm....

PPPPPS.  Mother Nature, if you're a Canadian, please don't take offence to my...

Nah, I'd best leave it at that.  No need to stick one more paw in my mouth.  There might be a couple in there, already!

If you know what I mean.

MOUSES!

one, two, three...

One, two, three...

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

Countin'.  I'm countin'.

MOUSES!

Gosh darn it, now I'm gonna have to start all over again.

MOUSES!

One, two, three...

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

Bees.  I'm countin' bees.

MOUSES!

Gosh darn it, now I'm gonna have to start all over AGAIN.

MOUSES!

One, two, three...

OH FOR MOUSIN' OUT LOUD, PEEPERS.  WHAT ON EARTH IS IT THAT YOU'RE BABBLIN' ON ABOUT NOW?

'Cause I want to, that's why.  I wanna count bees.

MOUSES!

Now where was I?

Oh yeah, I was at...

Hmmm...

Gosh darn it, I'm gonna have to start all over AGAIN.

MOUSES!

Hmmm...

But now there isn't a single solitary bee in sight.  No bees to count, at all.  Can't even count 'em to one!

HEY PEEPERS!  I've got a bone to pick with you, I do.  I was out there in the garden countin' the number of bees there were buzzin' about, but before I could finish counting 'em all, you came along and scared 'em away.  And now I have no bees to count.  Not even one!

So...

So if you're wonderin' how many bees we still have in the garden this year, halfway through the month of October; when we don't usually have many bees, if we have any at all; you're gonna have to keep on wonderin'.

Because...

BECAUSE I WAS gonna count 'em but now that you've scared 'em away, there aren't any bees left to count.

None.

Not even one.

MOUSES!

So go ahead and ask me, Peepers.  Go ahead and ask me just how many bees there still out there in the garden even at this very late date.  Just ask.  Just ask me how many bees there are buzzin' around the dahlias and nasturtiums and calendula and borage and things.  Things THAT NORMALLY WOULDN'T still be blooming 'cept for all this mild weather we've had, and the fact there hasn't been frost.  Go ahead.  Go ahead and ask.  Just ask me, Peepers.  Just ask.

How many bees are there in the garden, today?  You'd really like to know?

NONE.

And Peepers, do you know why there are no bees out there in the garden right now?

WELL I'LL TELL YOU why, I will.  There are no bees out in the garden right now on account of your scaring 'em all away.  Scaring 'em away when I was tryin' to count 'em.  So yeah, there are none.  None as in none.  Zippo.  Not a one.

Gosh darn it, a kitty tries to help out by countin' up bees stickin' around late in the season and is thwarted by his very own peep.

Stupid peep.

NEXT TIME I go to count bees, I'm gonna get Peepers to dress up in bright colours with a fancy schmancy flowery ol' hat, smear honey all over her face, and spray stinky flower perfume on her arms and her legs.  That'll get the bees to come 'round, for sure.  That'll get 'em comin' in droves!

Might even be more bees than I can count.

Best be sure I don't flick my tail around too much and end up gettin' myself stung.

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.

it's rainin', it's pourin'...

THE OLD MAN IS SNORIN'.

Yeah, that's how the song goes, right?  It's rainin', it's pourin'.  And the old man?  Well he's a snorin'.

MOUSES!

Thing is though, I don't hear anyone's snores.

And who is this old man, anyway?  And why does he snore?  Maybe he could do with one of those special anti-snoring pillows, of which I've heard tell.  It's definitely worth a try.  I should send him one as a prezzie.  I WOULD send him one as a prezzie if I had his address.  If I even knew who he was, that is.

MOUSES!

But all kiddin' aside, it has been rainin' on and off here in Nova Scotia since the end of last week AND THANKS BE TO GOODNESS FOR THAT.

Why, you ask?

Well...

Well my fair province has been battlin' wildfires, as of late.  I don't think we had all that much snow over the winter and when spring came, the snow melt wasn't...  Well for the most part, it just wasn't there!  Then the month of May was dry, too.  Lawns were crunchin' underpaw and seeds were scared to sprout lest if they did they'd shrivel up and die.  And the forests were absolutely tinder dry.  Any little spark made by anythin' or anyone was likely to result in an out of control fire.

Let me tell you, IT WAS SUPER SCARY, for sure.

But Friday brought rain.  It rained.  Then it poured.  Then it rained some more.  Then poured!  But the old man, whomever he is...  He didn't snore.

MOUSES!

And when the rain DID come...

Saffy, Saffy, Saffy...  *shakes head*  WHAT CAN I SAY?

SAFFRON, I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO STOP PLAYIN' IN THOSE PUDDLES!

Yeah, that's what I had to say.  And I had to say it more than once, too.

For the love of mouses, my friends, I have a brother who thinks he's a duck.

Or a fish.

Or maybe a peep toddler in a raincoat and wellies.

MOUSES!

That darn cat is out there, right now, playin' in puddles.  Dunkin' a paw in and splashin' it about.  Not drinkin' from the puddle like a normal cat might - WOULD - do, but playin'.  Playin' in puddles, he is.  PLAYIN'!  Playin' while I, Seville the Cat, watch and have to give my head a good shake.

And what AM I to do?  Do I ignore him?  Do I scold him?  Do I stick a big box over him in an attempt to cover the whole embarrassin' situation up?

Well...

Well I did think about the cover up scenario 'cause it's coverin' up stuff - not to mention payin' peeps off to keep quiet - that seems to be all the rage, these days.  You hear 'bout it all over the news.

But then I thought...

Then I thought, nah, coverin' up Saffron's duck-like tendencies with a box would be ONE GIANT WASTE OF A REALLY GOOD BOX.

Not to mention, I'd rather use the hush money to buy lots more boxes than to pay anyone to keep quiet 'bout what they saw Saffy doin'.

MOUSES!

So then I thought...

Then I thought, I am Seville.  Seville the Cat, I am.  I have a blog.  I have an audience, too!  Why not make use of my brother's weird behaviour and instead of coverin' it up...

WHY NOT PROFIT FROM IT, MYSELF?

Well not so much profit as expose.

Well maybe not so much expose as uh...

Hmm...

Okay, FINE.  I really just needed a good laugh.  And watchin' my brother, who is apparently a two-year-old toddler duck with wellies and some fish-like tendencies playin' in puddles, has proven to provide a very good laugh, for sure.

For me.

Not quite sure if Saffy will be laughin' once he finds out I've told the whole wide world all 'bout his new past time, though.

'Cause it's very embarrassin', you see.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

run for your life!

Run Peepers!  RUN! RUN!!!  Run for your life, Peepers!  Run for all nine of them!

Oh yeah, you're just a peep.  You only have the one life.  Means you have to run all the harder.  Run!  RUN!  Run like you've never run before!!!

Earlier that day...

Earlier that day, I spotted Peep #1 waving her arms around in the air and making weird sounds of distress.  "Arr!  Arrgh!  Grrrr!  MOUSES!"  Stuff like that.  Not her normal speech patterns at all. Oddly enough, I couldn't see who the recipient of the weird peep grunts and growls was. The peep appeared to be all alone.  All alone with arms flailing while making weird noises.  MOUSES!

Of course, I assumed the obvious.  The peep had finally gone over the edge.

And they said that WE CATS would be the ones to drive her over the edge.  Nothing doing. There wasn't a cat in sight.  Besides, none of us have an actual driver's licence so clearly, we can't drive her anywhere let alone over some fictitious edge.  MOUSES!

Unable to see anyone hanging around, ready to dress up the peep in a straight jacket, I then assumed that she was doing some sort of dance.  Perhaps Peep #1 was thinking of auditioning for one of those television dancing shows.  Dancing with the Peeps or something like that.

Of course, any delusions the peep may have had of being able to make it onto Dancing with the Peeps would be confirmation of the need for that straight jacket, for sure.

Then I thought...  RAIN DANCE.  Actually, that could still be a possibility as today...  well...  it rained.  MOUSES!

Did I say rain?  Actually, it poured but that's beside the point, I think.  Or is it?  Perhaps it was a very successful dance.  Nah, it didn't look very successful to me.

Anyway, the peep was doing her thing, looking all weird and stuff and making silly noises when eventually she gave up on the dancing and came inside.  "Those **** bugs!" she cried.

Ahhh...  of course.  Bug season.  She had been swatting the bugs.  Grunting and growling at them, too.  Not sure what good grunting and growling does though.  Do bugs have ears?  I don't know.  Do you?

"I have some stuff I can dab on the back of your neck, Peepers," I said.  "Works for fleas and ticks.  Might work for skeeters, too."

The peep just looked at me as if I was talking nonsense.  MOUSES!

"Where's that candle..." she muttered.

"Candle!" I cried.  "Candles are for decorating and sealing important letters.  Why would you want that?"

"I bought a citronella candle last week..." and the peep started searching through my office.

Clearly, I needed to do something about this.  Citronella sounded suspiciously like citrus and I, as a cat, have an aversion to lemons and oranges and the like.  I don't like them one bit.  No way was I going to have the peep stinking up the house with citrus!

"What you need, Peepers, is some nip," I suggested.  "I've heard that by growing vast fields of nip all over the place, you can keep those skeeters at bay."

The peep stared blankly ahead as if she hadn't heard me at all.  Was there something wrong with her hearing?  MOUSES!

"Aha!" cried the peep with satisfaction.  "Now where are those matches?"

I watched Peep #1 head out the door with her lit Citronella candle in tow.  Well at least she was taking it outside, I thought to myself.  At least she's not stinking up the house with that thing.

Shortly afterwards, the peep returned with her precious candle, it's flame extinguished.  I peered inside the glass container only to see a dead skeeter.  The darned things apparently liked the smell of citronella and were drawn to it like moths to a.... Interesting.  Moths to a flame.  MOUSES!

I looked up at the peep.  She was looking kind of blotchy and stuff.  Either she was allergic to that smelly candle or she had been exerting herself too much by flailing her arms about at those mosquitoes.  Either way, she didn't look good.

"Do you know what you really need, Peepers?  What you really need is a space suit," I suggested. "Those bugs will never get through that.  You have a space suit on paw?"

And once again the peep behaved as if she hadn't heard me.  Was she being rude or were those little red bumps on her face causing her ear canals to swell?  Skeeter bites, I muttered under my breath.

"You know, you really shouldn't let the mosquitoes bite you like that," I told her but it was like I was talking to deaf ears.  MOUSES!

"Yeah, Peepers, you REALLY need a space suit and while you're at it, how about getting some make-up or something.  I saw this show on television once where make-up artists made people up to look like aliens and monsters and..."

That got her attention.  She looked at me quizzically.

"I'm not suggesting you get them to make you look like an alien, Peepers," I continued.  "I just think that if they can do stuff like that, they can certainly hide that shiner of yours."

The peep appeared bewildered.  Not the first time I've seen her looking like that. Probably won't be the last, either.

"The shiner.  Your shiner.  You look like you have a black eye.  Not a good look, Peepers. Actually, it's kind of gross.  You need to do something about that.  Cover it up or something. That's why I'm suggesting the make-up."

Clearly the peep was unaware that one of those mosquitoes had bitten her just under the eye and left a  bit of a bruise.  MOUSES!

And that's when I saw the peep grabbing the garden secateurs.   "YOU CAN'T FIGHT SKEETERS WITH SECATEURS!" I hollered after her as she ignored me and headed out the door.

I watched from the window while Peep #1 walked over to a lilac bush and started cutting a bouquet of lilacs to bring into the house.  Silly peep.  Would she survive?  Would I ever see her again?

Within minutes, Peep #1 was frantically waving her arms about in the air.  Lilacs in one hand, secateurs in the other and the arm flailing was growing more and more frenzied.  This was not good. One wrong move with those secateurs and...  I closed my eyes, too scared to watch.

I dared to open one eye to take a peek.  The peep was jumping up and down, doing the dance of all dances.  I didn't know if I should laugh or cry.  And that's when it hit me.  I decided that my best plan of action was to TAKE NOTES!

So I did my duty and called out to the peep to run away from the skeeters before sitting down at the computer and starting to type.

Large swarms of killer mosquitoes attacking silly peeps who think they can ward them off with smelly candles after an unusually long winter with record high snowfalls.  All I needed to add was some government official forbidding anyone to utter the words climate change or global warming.  You know, thereby encouraging the public to believe that all is well with the world even though it really isn't.  And a love interest!  These movies always have a love interest of some sort. Someone from the past.  Not time travelling past.  Just someone the peep hasn't seen in a few years.  And, of course, a major character or two will need to be killed off about two thirds in.  Hmm...  which neighbours do I like the least?

Oh my goodness,  I've got the makings of a major prime-time, made-for-television, ratings-making movie here, for sure.  MOUSES!

I'm BEGGING you here!

MOUSES!  MOUSES!!  MOUSES!!!

Hmmm...   Did I happen to mention, MOUSES?

You're probably wonderin' what has got my fur all ruffled especially, since as a short-haired kitty, my fur very rarely ruffles.

Well last Saturday morning, Ol' Peepers here went to hang out her laundry.  As a peep, she does her laundry usin' soap and water unlike us cats who use spit and polish but I digress...

Peep #1 was all set to hang up her laundry when she discovered that someone in our neighbourhood was burnin' brush.  BURNIN' BRUSH ON LAUNDRY DAY?  Well let me tell you, I had one cranky peep on my paws, for sure.

There was my peep, tryin' to do the right thing by hangin' her laundry on the line instead of usin' a power-suckin' and carbon-emittin' clothes dryer, bein' thwarted by some other peep who decided to burn yard waste instead of compostin' it.  So what was my peep gonna do?  Was she gonna hang out her laundry on the line?  No way!  She wasn't gonna hang it out and have it come in stinkin' of smoke.  It's a pretty sad thing when your laundry is dirtier and stinkier AFTER bein' washed, you know.  Yes, a pretty sad thing, indeed.

Had the peep hung out her laundry, she would have had to have re-washed it when it came in to get rid of the stench of the smoke.  That would have used more water and even more electricity and then, in the end, she would have ended up puttin' it in the dryer after all.  MOUSES!

DOES NO ONE CARE ABOUT OUR PLANET?

Of course, bein' a considerate cat, I allowed the peep to give me some chin tickles and tummy rubs until she calmed down and felt better.

After calmin' the peep, I went to work investigatin' the crime at paw.  You heard me correctly... CRIME.  'Cause what I had just witnessed was a crime against nature and the environment, for sure. It's no wonder Mother Nature has been dishin' out such nasty weather lately.  She's probably feelin' pretty cranky, too.  Just like my peep.  MOUSES!

Turns out, the people down the street who were burnin' brush last Saturday mornin' were doin' so illegally.  Turns out, NO DOMESTIC BURNIN' is allowed anywhere in the Province of Nova Scotia durin' the hours of 8am and 2pm.  Nowhere, not under any circumstances.  I have to admit, I was quite proud of my province after findin' out about that.

But then I got to thinkin'...  Why can they burn brush in the afternoons?  Hmmm...  This required more investigatin' on my part, for sure.

No one really needs to burn brush or leaves.  It's simply not necessary.  Leaves, of course, can be composted.  They should be composted.  No doubt about that.  My peep composts leaves all the time and uses them as mulch, too.  They make great mulch for the primroses and whatnot growin' in my garden.

As for brush, there are other ways to get rid of it. Peep #1 has never in her life burned brush.  She has two little brush piles for the wildlife that appreciates such things and when she needs to get rid of stuff that can't go in those piles - like the bramble canes that scratched her to bits last week - she puts it in the green bin where it'll be taken away for composting.  Sure, she's limited by what she can fit into the bin but what doesn't fit one week, will surely fit the next time around.  Kind of goes without sayin', I should think.

Now I know, some peeps out there just like to burn things.  Strange but true, unfortunately.

But why do they have to burn stuff in the afternoon? Why can't they burn stuff startin' in the evening? When it won't interfere with peeps tryin' to do laundry or openin' their windows to let fresh air into the house or just enjoyin' the great outdoors?

It seems to me that it would be far better to PROHIBIT ALL DOMESTIC BURNIN' during the hours of 8am to to 7pm, no matter what the weather.  As it is, dependin' on the weather and the forest fire probability, there are already some days when this occurs.  Why not every day?  Then, if peeps have their hearts set on lighting a fire, they can do so in the evenin' and throughout the night.  They can still burn their brush - no matter how unnecessarily - but do so without interferin' with everyone else.

But what about camp fires?  Could you roast veggie dogs and tofu burgers on a camp fire for lunch if burnin' was prohibited durin' the day?  Peeps are gonna wanna know 'bout that.

Unfortunately, the answer to that question would be no but...  BUT THERE'S A WAY TO FIX THAT. Seriously, when makin' these regulations someone should have consulted a cat.  You know, to work out the kinks and whatnot.

Currently, a camp fire is considered an open fire just like a burnin' pile of brush.  Why not EXCLUDE camp fires bein' used for the purpose of cookin' food?  All it takes is a simple little clause statin' that during the hours of 2pm and 7pm, camp fires used for cookin' food can be lit providing that it's a day where burnin' will be allowed after 7pm.  MOUSES that was easy.  Why can't peeps think of stuff like that?

But back to the peep's dirty laundry and the welfare of the planet.

When someone burns brush, they pollute the air.  The burnin' of brush sends carbon emissions up the wazoo and into the atmosphere.  You're thinkin', it's just one little brush fire but no, it's not.  It's not 'cause rest assured, if one person is burnin' brush, so is another one on the next street over and another on the street beyond that.  All those little brush fires add up to one monstrously big one. MOUSES!

If an ocean is made up of tiny drops of water, the mother of all mother-carbon-emitting brush fires is made up of small little fires scattered around the neighbourhood.  Again I say...  MOUSES!

What's more, as a result of one person burnin' brush, a whole lot of other people are gonna be puttin' their wet clothes in the dryer instead of using a clothes line.  And instead of openin' their windows to allow fresh breezes to cool down their houses, they're gonna keep those windows closed 'cause of the smoke and instead, turn on their air conditioners.  With all those clothes dryers and air conditioners runnin' on high, the carbon emissions are addin' up even more.  They're addin' up EXPONENTIALLY!

It seems to me that the issue at paw is this.  Currently, the burnin' of brush is bein' handled solely by the Department of Natural Resources and it's all about forest safety.  But burnin' brush shouldn't just concern them.  There's more at stake here than the forests.  THERE'S THE PLANET!

The peeps workin' in the Department of Natural Resources are tryin' to keep our forests safe from wildfires.  That's their job but it's high time that the Department of Environment weighed in on this matter to keep the planet safe, too.

I, Nerissa the Cat, am personally imploring the Nova Scotia Minister of Environment to put his head together with the Minister of Natural Resources and to come up with a plan - TOGETHER - that will keep both our forests and our planet safe.  I'm BEGGING you here and as a cat, I very rarely beg.  What do you think I am?  A dog???

It seems to me that all the little bits we can do to help the environment add up to one big bit.  Remember those oceans.  One drop at a time, does an ocean make.  One drop at a time...

Ban all burnin' of brush from 8am 'til 7pm every day with the exception of allowin' small, open fires for the purpose of cookin' food between select hours.  Easy peasy, if you ask me but then, I'm a cat and you know...  cats are smart.  Certainly smarter than your average peep.

'Nough said.  MOUSES!