and I liked it

I ate pumpkin, and I liked it.

MOUSES!

Okay, so I wasn't actually the one who ate the pumpkin.  It was Mason who did that.

Now don't get me wrong.  Mason didn't go out and buy herself a pumpkin and eat it whole or anythin' like that.  Nor did she eat it straight out of a tin.  She didn't even eat it straight!  It was all mushed up with the fanciest of the feasts, if you know what I mean.  You know, in order to camouflage the taste of the orange stuff.

MOUSES!

But do you know what?

She ate it all, and...

SHE LIKED IT.

Uh-huh.  She did.  Well she liked what she was eatin', anyway.  Whether or not she knew she was eatin' pumpkin' is another matter. .

MOUSES!

Excuse me, my friends.  My sister Mason is tuggin' on my tail, tryin' to get my attention.

MOUSES!

Okay....

Okay, so Mason says she did know she was eatin' pumpkin, on account of the peep tellin' her she was giving her pumpkin before givin' it to her.  She also says that it tasted pretty good.  Probably on account of her not really bein' able to taste it over the fancy schmancy feasty bit and all, and...

What's that, Mason?

Oh.  And apparently, Mason would appreciate it if I did not mention that the reason the peep gave her the pumpkin was on account of her gettin' herself all constipated and stuff a couple weeks ago.

So I won't mention that.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

Hey!  What's with the smacky-paw to the back of my head, Mason?

MOUSES!

So APPARENTLY, my mentioning that I'm not gonna mention something, is the same thing as my mentioning it in the first place.

Who knew?

MOUSES!

But back to that pumpkin.  I, Seville the Cat, am not partial to cucurbits of any kind.  Not pumpkins, nor courgettes, nor cucumbers, nor...

OH ESPECIALLY NOT CUCUMBERS.  My mouses, you all remember way back when, when peeps all 'round the world went out of their way to scare us kitties with cucumbers?

Of course, I, Seville the Cat, was not scared.  Nope, I was not scared at all.  I, Seville the Cat, bein' the brave manly mancat that I am, walked right past those stupid ol' cucumbers, and...

Was not!

Mason says that walkin' and runnin'-as-fast-as-my-kitty-paws-will-move are not the same thing.

Who knew?

MOUSES!

But let's get back to those pumpkins, shall we?

Mason is all 'bout the pumpkins these days.  Of course, she has always had a thing for pumpkins.  It's a girl thing, you see.  Mason fancies herself as some kinda Cinderella type kitty, and thinks that one day she'll find a fairy godmother who will turn a pumpkin into a former-mouse-now-horse drawn golden carriage, or something like that.

Personally, I'd rather skip the ol' pumpkin carriage and instead get my paws on those mice before they turn into horses.

MOUSES!

But anyway...

But anyway, Peep #1 found a big ol' stinky poopy poop in the litter box this mornin'.  Yup, she was super excited, for sure.  You know, 'cause she's pretty sure it was Mason's.

Funny that, isn't it.  Not a question, but a statement of fact.  You ever notice how excited peeps get 'bout our poops?  It's a peep thing, I think.  Must be, 'cause let me tell you somethin'; no self-respectin' cat has EVER gotten that excited 'bout someone else's...

Well...

Poop.

MOUSES!

And...

Mason, what's your problem now?

Fine.  APPARENTLY, the act of mentionin' a sister's bathroom habits is...

What was that word you used, Mason?

Oh yeah.  Uncouth.

Who knew?

MOUSES!

But back to those pumpkins once more.

Mason ate pumpkin, and...

SHE LIKED IT.

MOUSES!

stinky bum

You all know my sister Mason, right?  The pretty little girl with the terribly stinky bum?

MOUSES!

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

What do you MEAN Mason wouldn't appreciate my tellin' the world she has a bit of a stinky bum?  'Cause let me tell you somethin', Peepers, I wasn't too keen on havin' that stinky bum of hers stuck in my face last night.  I wasn't too keen on that, at all.  I wasn't keen on account of the bum not bein' clean, and...

What?

WHAT?

Oh.

Really?

But what do you MEAN Mason would be embarrassed to know I was talking 'bout her like that?  It's not like I don't talk about other embarrassing things on my blog.  I talk about all the embarrassing things YOU do all the time.

MOUSES!

What?

WHAT?

FINE.

Er-hmm...  I have been informed that I'm not allowed to tell anyone about Mason's stinky bum.

MOUSES!

So just pretend I didn't say anythin' about it, earlier.  Okay?

So anyway...

So anyway, YOU DIDN'T HEAR THIS FROM ME, but this mornin', Mason had to go to the doctor's on account of her havin' a bit of a...

Uh...

Um....

A non rose-scented bum.

MOUSES!

Turns out, she's a tad constipated.

WHAT NOW, Peepers?

I'm not allowed to tell my readers Mason is constipated, either?

MOUSES!

First I'm not allowed to talk about this, and then I"m not allowed to talk about that.  Friggity-frack-de-quack-der-knack.  I'M BEIN' MUZZLED, I say.  MUZZLED!

MOUSES!

Okay, so this mornin', my sister Mason had to go to the doctor's to hang out for the afternoon, drinkin' nip-infused laxative teas while bathing in a rose-scented bath, and...

WHAT?  WHAT'S WRONG NOW?  What's wrong with what I just said, Peepers?  WHAT?  Are you sayin' I'm not allowed to talk about roses, either?

MOUSES!

Apparently, the peep thinks it's best I not say anythin' about Mason's afternoon at the uh...

Um...

At the place I'm not allowed to say, where she's doin' what I'm not allowed to talk about, and stuff.

BUT YOU DIDN'T HEAR IT FROM ME.

Okay?

So anyway, Mason will be comin' home around supper time, and hopefully, minus one very embarrassing, not-smellin'-of-roses, stinky bum.

MOUSES!

********

*ring ring...  ring ring*

You have reached the home of Seville the Cat.  Please leave a message at the tone.

Good afternoon, this is the kitty-cat hospital.  Miss Mason is awake and in recovery, and will be ready to go home after five, today.

********

Hmmm...  You know what, Peepers?  I see your point.  That IS embarrassing.  Mason will be SO EMBARRASSED to know the nurse called her Miss Mason like she was nothing more than a strikingly beautiful Southern debutante belle.  You know, instead of her preferred title:  HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, RULER OF ALL THE LAND AS FAR AS THE EYE CAN SEE WHILE STANDING ON ONE'S TIPPY TOES WAY UP AT THE TOP OF ONE'S GOLD-PLATED, DIAMOND ENCRUSTED PEDESTAL.

Yeah, that one.  That's the title Mason asked us all to commit to memory and announce whenever she enters a room.


MOUSES!