let me help you with that

Hey Peepers!  You missed a spot.  Let me help you with that.

There.  All done.  You're good to go.

What's that, Peepers?  What?  What did I do?

NO, I did not brush any loose cat hair off your black jacket.  Don't be silly, Peepers. Why the mouses would I do that?

Truth be told, I added some more.

Yeah, that's right.  That's what I said.  I added a little more loose cat hair to the back of your jacket.  You can thank me later.

What's that, Peepers?  Why?  Why did I do that?

Are you hard of hearin' or somethin', woman?

I SAID, ARE YOU HARD OF HEARIN' OR SOMETHIN'?

Did you not hear what I said before?

I SAID, DID YOU NOT HEAR WHAT I SAID BEFORE?

Oh my mouses.  Sometimes I really wonder 'bout you, Peepers.

Like I said, you had missed a spot.

Do I have to spell it out for you or somethin'?  I  said, you had missed a spot.  YOU HAD MISSED A SPOT.  YOU.  HAD.  MISSED.  A.  SPOT.  MOUSES!

For goodness sake, not only are you hard of hearin' these days, but apparently, you're not too good with the thinkin' stuff, either.  Let me explain it to you.

I'm tellin' ya, it's like teachin' an infant how to walk before they can crawl. MOUSES!

Okay Peepers, when I saw you puttin' on your black jacket earlier, I happened to notice a rather large patch of black on your back, just below your right shoulder.  A rather large, empty patch of black fabric, with no cat hair on it which, as you can imagine, looked kinda weird on account of there bein' cat hair all over the rest of the jacket.

SO BEIN' THE EVER-SO-HELPFUL KITTY THAT I AM, I took a few loose cat hairs from my gorgeous marmalade fur, and stuck 'em onto your jacket.  You know, in order to make that bare patch look a little less bare, and a little more like the rest.

Don't stare at me with your mouth wide open, Peepers.  It's not a good look.

Anyway...  Clearly, when you were usin' that sticky roller thingy on your jacket before, you forgot to glue some cat hair onto that bare patch.

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

YOU WHAT?

WHAT THE MOUSES ARE YOU TALKIN' ABOUT, WOMAN?

Peepers, are you sayin' that the sticky roller thingy is meant to REMOVE cat hair from your jacket? Remove it?  Remove it as in, take it away? MOUSES!

Are you sure about that, Peepers?  ARE YOU SURE?

'Cause in all honestly, I think the jacket looks way better with a few cat hairs on it, strategically placed here and there.  You know, to decorate it and stuff.

WELL IF YOU DIDN'T WANT CAT HAIR ON YOUR JACKET, WHY THE MOUSES DID YOU LEAVE IT LYIN' ON THAT CHAIR SO WE CATS COULD SLEEP ON IT LIKE WE DID?

I mean, really.  REALLY.  I mean...

Oh my mouses, I don't know what I mean.

Peepers, you have me all confused now, too.  One minute you're leavin' your jacket on a chair to be decorated with our loose hair, and the next minute, you're tryin' to get our beautiful cat hair, WHICH WE SO GRACIOUSLY DONATED TO THE CAUSE, off said jacket.

And may I add, if gettin' the cat hair off the jacket really was what you intended to do, you didn't do a very good job of it.  There was only one bare patch.  Only one.  One as in only one more than none.

QUIT YOUR BABBLIN', WOMAN.  You're makin' no sense at all.

Not to say you were makin' any sense before, but now you're makin' even less.  Now you're just kinda crazed.  Crazed like a crazy squirrel who has run out of nuts in the midst of makin' nut pies.

Not that YOU'VE run out of nuts.  Oh no, and no sirree.  Peepers, you're about as nutty as nutty can be.

Why Peepers, you're as nutty as the nuttiest mad hatter that ever there was, durin' a COMPETITION of mad hatters, all tryin' to outdo the other hatters, in a race to the finish line of maddening hattering madness.

And what the mouses is a hatter, anyway?  Someone who wears hats?  Nah, that can't be it. Someone who makes hats?  Could be...

And would those hats made by those hatters, happen to be decorated with gorgeous loose cat hairs in dulcet shades of marmalade?

Really Peepers, the flailing of arms thing is quite unbecoming.

Oh my mouses!  PEEPERS!  I see another spot.  Yup, right there. Another bare spot, right under your left arm.  I couldn't see it before.  Not until your arms started flailing.

Here Peepers, let me help you with that second missed spot.  MOUSES!

where are you now?

Oh.  My.  Mouses.  MOUSES!

Where is it?  WHERE IS IT?  MOUSES!

Is it inside?  Is it outdoors?  Is it...  Is it in my office?  On my right?  On my left?  In front of me?  Behind me?  Where? WHERE?  OH MY MOUSIE MOUSIN' MOUSES!

Oh for mousin' out loud.

Ah-ha!  I've got you now.  I know where you are.  I'm comin' to get ya.  I'm...

What the mouses?  You're not there.

Wait a minute.  Now I've got you.  You're over here.  You're here, in this corner of the room.  You're...

You're not here?  MOUSES!

So if you're not over here.  And you weren't over there.  You're...

WHERE ARE YOU?

You have some kind of stereo system goin' on, allowin' you to appear to be in two places at the same time?  Or are you throwin' your voice?  Or are you...

MOUSES!  MOUSES!  MOUSES!

PEEEEEEPERS!  Peepers, I need your help.  It's drivin' me mad.  It's drivin' me nuts.  It's drivin' me nuttier than the nuttiest of squirrels.  It's drivin' me crazier than squirrels makin' nut pies kind of crazy, for sure.  It's...  MOUSES!

I can't help it, Peepers.  I can't help but to stomp my paws in frustration.  I'm ready to explode like a bottle of pop rolled around on its side, shaken and shaken until one can shake it no longer.

No Peepers, I am not exaggeratin'.  I'm not exaggeratin' at all.  There's...  THERE'S...  THERE'S...

There's a cricket loose in this here office of mine, and it's hoppin' from one place to another.  Yet I can't see it sittin', nor can I see it hoppin'.  I haven't even seen it doin' a jig.  In fact, I can't see it at all!

BUT I CAN HEAR IT.

Wait a minute!  Did you hear that, Peepers?  Did you hear that cricket callin' my name?  It's over there now.  Can you see it?  Can you find it?  Can you find that dastardly cricket over in that there corner?  Over on that side of my office where...

WAIT A MINUTE!  Now it's over here.  Now it's over on this side of the room.  Now I'm hearin' it chirpin' and cheepin' and cheepin' and chirpin' and dancin' its merry little jig, while it fools me once more and...

Okay.  Calm down, Sivvers.  Breathe deeply.  Let me close my ears and listen very, very carefully.  It's...  IT'S... IT'S....

OH MY MOUSES!  IT ISN'T THERE EITHER!

It's not here.  It's not there.  It's not anywhere.  And yet, it's EVERYWHERE, to be sure.  It's...

Magic?  Peepers, can crickets be magic?  Could this be a magical cricket doin' some sort of ventriloquist's act right here in my office?

Or might there be two...

Could there be two dastardly crickets in this here office of mine, chirpin' and cheepin' and cheepin' and chirpin' and basically drivin' me mad?

Or possibly three.

Or might it be the smoke detector?  Smoke detectors are tricky like that.  You know, when their batteries are runnin' low and they start chirpin' like crickets who are intent on drivin' kitties insane.

PEEPERS!  WE HAVE AN INFESTATION OF SMOKE DETECTOR IMPERSONATING VENTRILOQUIST CRICKETS IN MY OFFICE!

What-oh-what should we do?

Or perhaps we have a cricket impersonatin' smoke detector or...  OR...  OR...

Peepers!  Where are you goin'?  DON'T LEAVE ME NOW.  Please-oh-please don't leave me here alone with this cricket.  Or crickets.  Or infestation of crickets.  Or...

PEEEEEEEEPERRRRS!!!!!

Now listen up here you cricket, you stupid cheepin' chirpin' cricket, you.  I've had enough.  I, Seville the cat, am ordering you to identify your whereabouts right here and right now.  I'm orderin' you to tell me exactly where you are.   And the longer you take, the worse off you will be 'cause let me tell you, I've just about had it up to my whiskers with your voice throwin' chirps and your...  YOUR... YOUR...


Awwwwwwww... 
MOUSES!

PEEEEEEEEPERRRRS!!!!!  Wait up! Wait up for me!!!  That cricket is drivin' me mad.  I can't stay in my office for one moment longer for if I do, I'll go crazier than crazy can be.

Why...  I'll go crazy...  Like YOU.  I'll go crazy like you, Peepers.  You know, I'll go your kind of crazy, for sure.

And we can't have now, can we.   MOUSES!

rodents and MOUSES!

Rodents.  MOUSES!  No, I meant squirrels.

So anyway, we have squirrels, but this, my friends, is nothing new. Those big ol' grey squirrels took over the old oak tree at the end of my driveway ages and ages ago so I suppose, when I really think about it, this is just part two of the same ol' squirrelly saga. Or could it be part three?

Whatever it is, it has been going on for like forever and that is for sure.  MOUSES!

The last few days, we've been having some unseasonably pleasant weather and the squirrels have been out in full force, running up and down the oak tree and across the driveway and front yard.  I'm not quite sure what they're doing, though.  I mean, besides the running.  And the climbing, of course.  They just seem to be running here and there and pretty much everywhere with very little purpose, if you ask me.

Of course, the squirrels did not ask me and that is exactly what they said when I gave them my opinion of their running about without any purpose.

Well technically, it was more of a who-asked-you-anyway kind of thing.  And there was something about my being nosey and my advice being unsolicited and a few other unmentionables that I cannot repeat here as Nerissa's Life is a family-friendly blog and the unmentionables weren't very friendly at all.  Like I said, they were unmentionable.

Can someone please tell me what is so wrong with asking a squirrel if they know how to read a map?  MOUSES!

Of course, the possibility of the squirrels not having a map in the first place was very real, indeed, and if that were true, their inability to read one was neither here nor there, I suppose.  But considering the amount of running they were doing here and there, a map would have come in handy for sure. MOUSES!

So I set about making 'em one.

First of all, I had to decide what kind of map I would make.  Would I make a treasure map, leading the squirrels to their precious stash of acorns and the like?  Was that the kind of map they could best use?

The answer to that was yes, of course, however as I had no direct knowledge of where they had stashed their stash, a treasure map just wasn't in the cards.  Their secret cache would remain hidden, for sure.  MOUSES!

So I thought to myself and I thought and I thought and I thought and after thinking for a very long time, I realized that what these squirrels needed even more than a treasure map was a map showing 'em where they were going and you know, how to actually get there in a less roundabout route.  From my observations, even with all the running they were doing, they were getting absolutely nowhere at all.  It was almost like they were travelling in circles or something.  MOUSES!

And that's when it came to me.  Squirrel Town!  Way back when, I once heard tell of such a place and it seemed to me that a place called Squirrel Town would be the perfect place for squirrels, for sure. Perhaps it was just such a place to which they were attempting to travel but had been unable to find, all this time.  You know, on account of their not having a map.

So I immediately set about making such a map.  A map leading them from the big old oak tree at the end of my driveway to the long lost place known as Squirrel Town.

Unfortunately, my map-making attempts were thwarted even before I had begun.  Basically, I couldn't figure out where this Squirrel Town was, myself, and it turns out that in order to make a map, one must have some idea as to where the places one is trying to put on the map are, in order to put 'em there.  Who knew?  MOUSES!

But you know, I've seen maps from way back when, when European peeps were mapping out Canada and stuff.  Some of those maps looked suspiciously incorrect, if you ask me.  Of course they, like the squirrels, didn't ask me 'bout that, either.  MOUSES!

So with both the treasure map and the map to Squirrel Town not happening, I decided to take the easy way out.  Borrowing a bright red marker from Peep #1, I put a large 'X' on the big ol' oak tree and wrote underneath it, "You Are Here."  Then I stood back to admire my handiwork.

And that, my friends, is when I discovered one of the squirrels' secret caches of acorns.  Yes, I discovered it as hundreds of acorns rained down upon my head.  MOUSES!

Apparently, squirrels take great offence to being insulted and they found my little X-marks-the-spot thing to be rather...  well...  insulting.  I have no idea why.

The squirrels claim they already knew where they were although truth be told, I don't think I believe 'em.  If they already knew where they were, then why were they running all over the place looking like they had no idea where they were going?  MOUSES!

And to add insult to injury...

And I should just mention that the injury is mine after being bombarded by those acorns.

But anyway, to add insult to injury, Peep #1 has told me I must apologize to the squirrels.  I, of course, told her that my doing so would be crazy.  I believe the words I used were, "That's crazy that is!  Crazier than a squirrel making nut pies kind of crazy, for sure."  Unfortunately, the peep didn't buy it for a moment.  MOUSES!

I don't know.  I think we should just get 'em one of those hamster wheel thingamajigs.  I mean, they appear to like to run in circles anyway.  Why not have 'em run on a big 'ol wheel?  When you think about it, it's kind of the same thing.  Kind of, anyway.

And as the wheel would be stationary, they would always know where they were.  They would always be there.  There on the wheel.  On the hamster wheel, marking the spot and thus eliminating the need for a map.  MOUSES!

I need one

OH MY MOUSES!  I want one.  I need one.  I HAVE to have one, for sure.

Did you hear?  Did you hear it on the news?  Oh my mouses, this is the best thing since sliced bread.

Well technically, being a cat and all, I'm not really into bread whether it's sliced, cubed or falling apart into crumbs but this... THIS...  This is the best thing since FOREVER.  MOUSES!

Apparently, the Ontario government is investing fifty million dollars in self-driving cars.

The big news isn't about the investment. The BIG news is that the cars drive on their own.  MOUSES!

Now you might be wondering why I, Seville the Cat, would care about a self-driving car.  I know, I have long been an opponent to the whole car thing because, as you know, the peeps' car appears to know how to drive to only one place and that place happens to be the doctor's office although, I am told, when I'm not actually in said car, it drives to other places as well, such as the grocery store, which would in fact make the car actually useful but as I have not personally witnessed this driving to the grocery store business myself, I am still undecided on the whole car thing, generally speaking.

Whew!  There's an award-winning run-on sentence, for sure.  Someone pass me a Pulitzer.

But back to these cars that don't need drivers.  This is perfect!  Even though I am somewhat car opposed, I have long wanted a car of my very own.  One that knew how to go to places other than the doctor's office.  One I could drive myself!  My problem, of course, has been finding a car small enough for cats.  Small enough for cats to drive.  Small enough so that I can reach the gas pedal, not to mention the brakes.  MOUSES!

With a self-driving car, I wouldn't have to reach those unreachable pedals.  How perfect is that for a cat?  MOUSES!

And a self-driving car could be programmed beforehand... Hmmm...  Before paw?  Doesn't really matter. What does matter is that it could be programmed to go wherever I want it to go and believe-you-me, I would not be programming it to take me to the doctor's office and that is for sure.

Like I said, I need one of these self-driving cars.  Only question is, should I write to the Premier of Ontario asking if I could test drive one without really driving it, of course, as it would be driving itself or should I just bypass her and write to Santa Clause?  Decisions, decisions...  MOUSES!

You're probably wondering why I even need a car of my own.  You're probably wondering why I don't just teleport on over to the grocery store.  Well truth be told, I tried that once.  Didn't work out at all. Our local grocery store has no parking for flying frying pans, you see.  Can you believe it? MOUSES!

I once heard tell of a cat who tried to park in a regular parking space in a regular parking lot and some bozo ran right over his teleportation device, parking on top of it.  Yup, it's true.  Guy's name was Bozo.  The circus was in town, you see.  MOUSES!

But back to that self-driving car.  Only other thing I've heard of that was as good as a self-driving car was one that could fly.  Yup, I saw a flying car on Facebook, a while back.  Did you happen to see that too?  It was a car but it flew.  Don't think it used eggbeater teleportation technology, either.

And if I'm not mistaken, that car could fly on its own, just like the self-driving car.  Yup, it was a programmable self-flying car, for sure. Programmable self-flying as opposed to self-driving, you see.

The other night, I was watching television with the peeps when an advertisement came on for flying penguins.  Well the ad wasn't for the penguins but rather, it was starring them.  And the penguins weren't actually flying in the ad because, of course, penguins can't fly.  I think they were going to use air miles or something like that.  But I bet they could fly even without using air miles, had they had one of those flying cars sitting in their garage. They should look into that, for sure.

I actually don't know what the ad was advertising as while I was watching those penguins, my mind was otherwise occupied.  The penguins, you see, were penguin-sized which is what one might expect.  You know, with their being penguins and all.  But they lived in a peep-sized house and they used peep-sized appliances.  And watching those penguin-sized penguins struggle with all those peep-sized appliances just made me feel sorry for them because really, what they need more than a vacation is a house with appliances more suitably sized for penguins.  MOUSES!

Penguins might not fly but squirrels do.  That's why some of them are called flying squirrels.

Now technically, flying squirrels don't fly but sort of glide but that's neither here nor there because they look like they're flying and that's for sure.

There are flying squirrels right here in Nova Scotia, I am told, but not, as far as I know, in my yard. But nevertheless, I've seen squirrels fly.  It's true!  Even those big grey squirrels can fly high amongst the tops of the trees.  They're so light they can race along the thinnest of branches, leaping from one to another and watching them, you'd swear they were flying whether really flying squirrels or not.

Now here's a thought.  Answer me this.  If squirrels were to be featured in an advertisement on TV, would they live in a squirrel-sized house or one built for peeps?  And if the ad were to show them baking nut pies as we all know squirrels do, would the appliances they use be peep-sized or would they be more appropriately sized for squirrels?  I mean, can you really picture a squirrel attempting to bake nut pies in a peep-sized kitchen?  Sounds pretty unbelievable to me.  Crazy.  Crazier than a squirrel making nut pies kind of crazy, for sure.  MOUSES!

And what's more, would those squirrels be paid in peanuts?

One might think that entertaining squirrels might find being paid in peanuts acceptable but truth be told, they don't.  Nope, I've heard they like cold, hard cash.  Yup, it's true, although I'm sure they'd accept a cheque if you were to show two valid forms of ID.

No one has ever tried to pay me with peanuts but that might be because I'm not a squirrel.  They have tried to pay me with nip, though.  No, sorry.  That wasn't me being paid.  That was a bribe. Turns out you can, in fact, bribe a cat with nip.  MOUSES!

But the bottom line is, you can't buy a self-driving car with peanuts or nip. Nope, you need the cash.  You need to have cash on paw, for sure.  And as I have come to the conclusion that I REALLY NEED one of those self-driving cars, I'm going to have to start saving up my pennies and since there's no such thing as a Canadian penny these days, I'll have to save up my nickels and dimes, too.  I will not, however, have to save up any peanuts.

On the other paw, as I've already been saving up to invest in nip futures, perhaps I can use the money earned from that futuristic nip to buy one of those self-driving cars.

Oh my mouses, this is confusing even for me and as you know, I don't confuse all that easily.

I think I need to imbibe in a little nip.  MOUSES!

getting my ducks in a row

You over there, move to the left, please.  Nope, that's too far.  Move back a little to the right.  And you, You move to the right, too.  Just a smidge. Yup, yup, that's it.  WAIT, WAIT A MINUTE!  I didn't tell YOU to move.  You stay where you are.  You too.  You stay right there. No, no that's far enough. Keep still, would you? EVERYBODY STAY RIGHT WHERE THEY ARE!  NO ONE MOVE!  Okay, let's start all over again.  You, you over there.  You move just a smidge to the left.  Nope, that's too far...

What's that, Peepers?  What am I doing?  It's it obvious?  I'm getting my ducks in a row.

At least I'm trying to get my ducks in a row.  Gosh, this is harder than herding cats, for sure.

Peepers, you have any hints for getting these ducks to...

STOP THAT!  STOP MOVING ABOUT!  STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE!

Oh Peepers, I could do with some help here...

I should have used rubber duckies.  Bet they would have stayed put and not been milling about like...

I said, STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE!!!

What are you babbling about, Peepers?  Oh.  Really?  Are you sure about that?  REALLY?  Hmmm...

NOW she tells me.

Long story short, I have been informed that putting my ducks in a row does not actually involve the use of live ducks.  MOUSES!

Doesn't involve the use of rubber duckies, either.  MOUSES!

I didn't know why they all had to be in a row, anyway.  It didn't make any sense to me, at all.  Now geese, I could see.  I see geese flying in rows all the time.  Flying high up in the air in two rows, converging in a letter 'v.'  Yup, perhaps that old saying should have been about putting one's geese in a V.  MOUSES!

But speaking of geese, the Canada Geese will be flying over my house any day now.  It's true! They fly south for the winter, you see, and my house appears to be on an international flight path of sorts. Every fall, those geese fly right over me and my house.  And you know when they're doing a flyby because they honk up a storm.  Why, they honk like a bunch of irate drivers in a traffic jam. MOUSES!


But like I said, although I haven't yet seen those geese this season, I'm sure I will soon because you all know what today is, right?  It's the first day of Autumn.  That means it's time for the geese to start their journey, southward bound.

I've never actually met a goose.  Don't know why. Maybe my yard isn't suitable for landing or something.  Hmmm....

Anyway, autumn is here now.  It arrived today although it felt like it arrived two days ago.  Last weekend was hot and muggy and sticky-icky.  Just like summer, in fact.  But then all of a sudden, everything got a little chilly and the humidity left us behind.  Leaves haven't started changing colour yet but the other night, the peeps had to put the heat on. Could you believe it?  One day they have fans running and the next, the furnace.  MOUSES!

Another word for autumn, of course, is fall.  Fall...  The season of falling stuff.  It's true!  Leaves fall as do acorns and guess what?  They fall in the fall.  Coincidence?  I think not.  Only thing I don't know is which came first.  Was it the chicken or the egg...  Oops!  Sorry.  Wrong saying.  I meant to say, was it the season or the act.  Do the leaves fall in the fall because they think they should fall in the season called fall OR is the season called fall because the leaves and other falling stuff fall?

One will never know, I suppose, as the leaves aren't really talking although truth be told, they do rustle a lot and the wind is always whispering secrets and stuff.  I bet you anything those darned squirrels know a secret or two.  Bet those squirrels know the secrets of the leaves and all. MOUSES!

Squirrels love fall.  Ever notice that?  It's true.  You should see those big grey ones scampering up and down the big old oak tree at the end of my driveway.  They're looking for acorns, you see. Stashing them away for the winter.

Did you know that squirrels are the most forgetful of all rodents?  At least, that's what I've observed. I watch the squirrels living around here, a lot, and while I've been watching, I have discovered that they're always forgetting stuff.  Mainly, they forget where they stashed their acorns, you see.

It's true.  Every fall those squirrels stash their acorns all over my yard, in little bundles, and then Peep #1 finds little oak trees growing, in following years.  She knows they were planted by squirrels on account of their appearance in bundles and clumps.  A clump of oak trees here and another clump there.  Drives the peep crazy, for sure.  Crazier than a squirrel making nut pies kind of crazy, if you know what I mean.

Not that my peep actually needs to be driven crazy.  Believe-you-me, she already knows that road like the back of her hand.  MOUSES!

But I bet the forgetting of where they put their nuts drives the squirrels crazy, too.  Nothing worse than not remembering where you hid something.  Not being able to find it.  Mouses that can be frustrating.  So frustrating it will drive you to frustration, for sure.

I remember that time I couldn't find my favourite nip mouse after hiding it from my fur-sibs...

To tell you the truth, I STILL remember not being able to find my favourite nip mouse like it was just yesterday.  Not yesterday when I lost it but yesterday when it was still lost.  By gosh and golly, my favourite nip mouse is still no where to be found!

I sure do hope Peep #1 didn't throw it out because one of my fur-sibs peed on it or something. MOUSES!

But back to those forgetful squirrels.  Do you know what they should do?  They should plant their acorns all in a row.  Then they would easily find the darned things when they went looking for them, later on.

And I'm betting that putting one's acorns in a row would be a heck of a lot easier than getting those ducks to line up like......

OH MY MOUSES!  I totally forgot all about those ducks.  Peepers is going to be furious, for sure.  I know she said I didn't actually need to get them to stand in a row but I'm betting she didn't want them waddling all over the place and...

Hmmm...  If I spin this just right, I'm thinking I can get the peep to take the blame on this one.   After all, she IS the one who told me I didn't need to line them all up so really, if they are ducks waddling all over the place, it really is on her.  Yup, it's all on her, for sure. MOUSES!

the cheekiness of squirrels

It has come to my attention that the mainstream news outlets have been remiss in their coverage of a very important story.

Hmmm...  Been remiss? That may be a bit of an understatement.  A very big understatement, in fact.  They haven't been coverin' this breaking story at all!  Crazy, that is.  Crazier than a squirrel makin' nut pies kinda crazy, for sure.

Yes, my friends, we are talking 'bout squirrels.  MOUSES!

All I can say is, thank goodness for Twitter.

Havin' been in contact with several pals from around the world, it has come to my attention that this issue at paw is of international importance.  An epidemic of global proportions and yet, like I said, the mainstream news has completely ignored the phenomenon.  The phenomenon that is, the cheekiness of squirrels.  MOUSES!

Pals from the United Kingdom and the United States of America are reportin' that squirrels in their nations are actin' cheekily.  Only a matter of time before they start actin' all squirrelly, too.

I, Nerissa the Cat, reportin' from right here in Nova Scotia, Canada, can attest to the fact that Canadian squirrels are followin' global trends and bein' cheeky, as well.

And the cause of all this cheekiness?  As of yet, scientists don't know.  Further observation is needed and more data is required however one theory is that squirrels throughout the northern hemisphere are all suffering from a serious case of spring fever.  The other workin' theory is that... Well...  That they're squirrels.  They're just squirrels bein' squirrels and actin' all cheeky.  MOUSES!

You know, squirrels are kinda known for their cheekiness.  They get away with a lot of it on account of their cuteness.  Their cuteness factor per ounce outweighs most species.  Hard to stay angry with a squirrel no matter how cheeky he gets.

A couple weeks ago, I had a squirrel come right up to my office window.  RIGHT UP TO THE WINDOW!  He was lookin' in and spyin' on me and whatnot.  He even tapped on it.  Morse Code, I do believe but it was all messed up so that I couldn't understand him.  Squirrel Morse Code is different from normal Morse Code, you see.  Squirrels just tap out gibberish thinkin' cats and peeps can read their minds.  Bunch of dashes and dots makin' no sense at all.  Whatever he was sayin', it all sounded Greek to me.

Then just yesterday, I was lookin' out that very same window and I thought, for a moment, that I was seein' an unfamiliar cat.  That's right folks, I thought I saw a puddy cat.

Turned out to be a really big squirrel, instead.  MOUSES!

Yes, those cheeky squirrels here in Nova Scotia are big.  They're of the big grey variety.  We used to have little red guys and some folks still do but at my house, the grey ones have invaded and taken over.  Haven't seen a red squirrel in over a year.  MOUSES!

A word of advice.  Whatever you do, always approach a cheeky squirrel with caution.  You don't wanna get 'em upset.  You don't wanna make 'em angry.  You don't wanna give 'em reason to fight.

Those big grey squirrels will sit up on the branches of an oak tree and start hurlin' acorns down at you.  The acorns will rain down upon your head.  You ever witness a scene like that?  I have and let's just say, Peep #1 needed a couple Aspirin after the fact.

Unfortunately, the peeps 'round here have angered the squirrel population and they're demandin' their voices be heard.

Did I say peeps?  Actually, I meant peep.  It was Peep #1 to be exact.

Yesterday afternoon was a lovely sunny day here in the valley and the peep headed outside with a saw in her paw.  It's just a little saw that she has.  Can't trust her with anythin' much bigger but you'd be surprised at the amount of chaos she's capable of causin' with the little one she has.

So the peep headed out to the front of the yard and started whackin' away at the lower branches of some spruce trees.  Makin' way for the plantin' of more primroses, I do believe.  The primrose bed in question is still partially covered in snow which is a whole other story but back to the spruce trees, the peep and her saw.

She sawed and she sawed and she sawed, removing the lower four feet or so of branches.  I checked it out afterwards and have to admit that it looks pretty good.  Well it does to me but to the squirrels?  They are of an entirely different opinion.

The squirrels arrived this morning in full force.  "Where are our branches?" they loudly demanded.

I tried to come to Peep #1's defence, pointing out to the squirrels that those particular branches were not zoned for residential use as they were too close to the ground.  It's a cat zone.  Squirrels should never build in cat zones as the insurance premiums are far too costly.

But the squirrels weren't listenin'.  They claim they never intended to build homes in that area but rather, that those branches were part of their transportation network.  Access roads to their superhighways and whatnot. Who knew that squirrels had access roads?  MOUSES!

Long story short, the peep has got the squirrel community all riled up.  Only a matter of time before this thing escalates.  Only a matter of time before the peep, once again, falls prey to a squirrelly acorn attack.

And will I, Nerissa the Cat, come to her defence?

Probably not.  I saw the last one and although not pretty, it was definitely entertainin'.  Remind me to order in a cheesy nip pizza and some nipbrewskis for the occasion.  Gonna be prime time Squirrel TV, for sure.  MOUSES!

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

Please remember that throughout the month of April, a portion of all sales of the book Rescued: The Stories of 12 Cats, Through Their Eyes will go to the wonderful Anjellicle Cats Rescue of New York, helpin' them to help save cats' lives.  You can purchase your very own copy at your local book store or on Amazon by clicking right HERE.  You'll wanna stock up for holiday gift-giving, for sure.  PURRS.

slip slidin' away

As you may or may not have heard, Peep #1 caught a bug.  Not a spider or anythin' like that.  It's winter.  It's far too cold for spiders to be out and about in Canada at this time of year.  Plus, Peep #1 isn't really into the spiders so catchin' one would not be on the top of her to-do list. She says they're icky and I sort of have to agree.

But the peep did catch a bug. At first, I thought she had caught one of those flu bugs on account of her feverish and delusional behaviour but it turned out to be somethin' else.  It turned out to be a hybrid spring-cabin fever bug.  No known cure.  We have to let it run its course.  MOUSES!

So early Monday mornin', the peep was still in her delusional state brought on by this spring-cabin fever thingy, behaving like a maniac, when everythin' hit the fan.  Well...  to tell you the truth, there were no actual fans involved.  There were things hittin' things, however.  Let me explain...

Even though the garden was covered in snow, the peep was still feverishly plantin' seeds and whatnot, behavin' like it was spring.  Due to the spring component of her illness, she was completely oblivious to the fact that it was still winter.  Due to the cabin component of this fever, she decided to head outside.

Now over the weekend, the low temperatures - did I mention it was still winter? - had frozen everythin' solid.  Our driveway was a sheet of ice.  I was searchin' for those cat-sized ice skates I ordered last year when I heard the peep headin' out the door.  I called out to her to be careful of the ice but apparently, this spring-cabin fever thingy had affected her hearin'.  She didn't listen to me at all.

I took a break from searchin' for my skates to hop up onto the window ledge and watch the show.  It promised to be a good one....  Peep TV.

Peep #1 was out the door and headin' toward the garage in search of more plant pots.  She was off like a bolt of lightening 'cause the temperatures were climbin' and it had started to rain.  She didn't want to get wet or anythin'.  One never knows when rain might cause the unexpected meltin' of peeps.  Meltin' peeps is a messy business and should be avoided at all cost.

And I just want to clarify that the peep was like lightenin'.  Even though it had started to rain, there was no actual lightenin' in the sky.  Just clouds, rain and some wind.  Hmm...  clouds rain and lots and lots of wind, to be exact.

So the peep headed across the ice-covered driveway that was gettin' slicker and slicker by the minute due to the fallin' - and quite possibly, peep meltin' - rain when all of a sudden, Peep TV started to get really interesting.  Even though the peep's legs had stopped walkin', they were still movin'.  They were slippin'.  They were slidin'.  They were slip, slip,  slidin' away.  Pickin' up speed, Peep #1 was movin' faster and faster and then, before my very eyes, the peep took flight!  SHE WAS AIRBORNE.  She soared through the air, right across the icy driveway and landed with a thump.

You know, Peep TV never disappoints.  It's right up there with Bird TV and the Squirrel Channel.

Anywho...  Remember how I said stuff hit stuff?  Well the stuff doin' the hittin' was the peep and what was bein' hit was the ground.  Peep #1 did an Olympic-worthy, four-point landin' right there in front of the garage.  Two knees, left-front paw and her chin.  All four points smacked the ice, simultaneously.  The excitement was almost unbearable.  MOUSES!

Strugglin' to her paws...  feet...  whatever, Peep #1 stumbled into the garage to dig out the flower pots. Never let it be said that my peep is easily distracted.

Returning inside, flower pots in paw, the peep looked at me and mentioned something 'bout it bein' icy outdoors.  Somethin' about her flyin' across the driveway.  I told her I hadn't noticed so that she wouldn't feel too embarrassed 'bout the dirt on her chin.

But speakin' of flyin' stuff, did you hear 'bout those marmie brothers of mine?

The other day, Seville, Rushton and Anderson were hangin' out together, on the little landin' outside the kitchen window.  Now I should explain that my marmie brothers never hang out together for the sake of camaraderie.  Nope, nothin' comaraderous 'bout them hangin' out at all.  One moment they were all sittin' there, starin' at each other and then the next moment, fur started to fly.  There was marmie fur everywhere.  Then came the yowlin' and the howlin'.  Once Peep #1 shut up, my brothers started to growl.

Let me tell you, those marmie brothers of mine have tude.

But marmies aren't the only ones with tude.  Squirrels have tude, too.  You should see 'em, struttin' about, dancin' and prancin' around on my driveway.  They're actin' like they own the joint or somethin'.

And did you hear 'bout today bein' Squirrel Appreciation Day?  That's right, they have their own day. MOUSES!  Hmm...  I wonder if mice have one too?

Anywho...  Accordin' to a reliable source, today is the day for appreciating squirrels.  The same source has revealed that it's also a day to celebrate hugs and granola bars.  I guess it's a day to hug the neighbourhood squirrels and share a granola bar with 'em.

Nah...  doin' somethin' like that would be crazy, for sure.  Crazier than a squirrel makin' nut pies kind of crazy, if you know what I mean.  Granola bars?   I don't eat granola bars.  I, Nerissa the Cat, have never eaten a granola bar in my life because I am a cat and we cats don't like things like that.

And I never did find those ice skates of mine.  Where-oh-where did I put 'em? Gotta find 'em before winter is over and there isn't any ice left for skatin'.  I wonder if the peep hid 'em somewhere. I wonder...  Oh Peepers...  OH PEEPERS...  Have you seen those ice skates of mine?  Did you hide 'em somewhere?  You're not answerin' me?  Awww...  MOUSES!

cherry pickin' surgeons

It happened one Saturday mornin'.  About three weeks ago, I think. Yeah, that sounds about right.

Anywho...  There I was, mindin' my own business and, of course, keepin' a watchful eye on the peeps' business, too, 'cause we all know how they need watchin', when a truck pulled up.  It parked on the road, opposite my house.  I thought to myself, "Hmmm..."

Or perhaps it wasn't to myself that I thought the "Hmmm..." Perhaps I said it aloud 'cause I do believe that Peep #1 heard me.  Made her look out the window to see what was goin' on.

Peep #1 intercepted the guy from the truck at the front door.  They talked for a bit.  I listened in to their conversation, from a safe distance, of course.

Ol' Peepers informed me that the man was a tree surgeon and was gonna be operatin' on the big 'ol oak tree at the end of my driveway.

"A surgeon?" I asked.  "A surgeon for trees?  Is the oak tree finally gettin' neutered?"

Peep #1 just looked at me.  I believe she was somewhat confused.

Then I realised my mistake.  The oak tree couldn't be gettin' neutered.  It was probably gonna be spayed.  Perhaps the peeps had decided to deal with all the acorns it drops on our heads on an annual basis.

Still, the peep looked confused.  To tell you the truth, I was a little confused, myself.  Prior to this, I had never heard of surgeons makin' house calls.  Usually one has to go to the surgeon, when needin' somethin' done.  For example, when I had my knee bionicized last year, I had to go to the hospital.  The hospital didn't come to me.

"Is the tree gettin' a bionic limb?" I asked the peep.  Perhaps that was what the surgeon was intendin' to do.  Give the tree a bionic limb just like my doctor gave me a bionic knee.

Ol' Peepers was still in a state of confusion, from what I could tell.  She wasn't answerin' any of my questions.  Rather rude, if you ask me.  MOUSES!

Next thing I knew, two more trucks arrived on the scene.  They were rather strange and loud lookin' trucks.  Yes, they looked loud.  I know you might be wonderin' how that works but suffice it to say, as I found out later, I was right on that account.

The surgeon got all geared up.  Instead of a surgical mask, he donned a hard hat.  Interestin'... Then he climbed up onto one of the trucks and as if my magic, the truck extended an arm and transported him up into the air where he darted this way and that, in and amongst the branches of the oak tree.

I peered over at the truck with the magical arm, lookin' for signs of eggbeater teleportation technology but saw none.  Weird.  To be honest, to this day I have no idea what was powerin' the arm of that truck.  Peep #1 said the magical arm thingy was a cherry picker.

"A cherry picker!" I cried.  "Of all the stupid things.  I thought you said that guy was a doctor.  A doctor for trees.  Don't doctors go to school?  Does he not know that that's an oak tree?  Even I know that's an oak tree.  I also know that oak trees grow acorns.  They don't grow cherries.  What's he thinkin', lookin' to pick cherries in an oak tree?  Of all the moused up..."

I stopped ranting on account of the look on Ol' Peepers face.  The poor peep.  She was, at that moment, realising that she had hired a doctor for trees who didn't know the difference between a cherry and an oak.  A mouses moment, for sure.

Then things started gettin' noisy.  The surgeon was magically movin' in and around the branches of the tree and he had a saw goin'.  Not the quiet little hand saw that my peep uses when she gets in one of her lumberjackin' moods but rather, a big ol', noisy chain saw.  Limbs started droppin' from the sky.  Well actually, they were droppin' from the tree but you get my drift, I am sure.

Then the second truck came to life.  MOUSES! it was loud.  Peep #1 said it was a wood chipper.

"A chipper?" I asked.  "They plannin' on makin' french fries to go with the cherry pie?"  The cherry pie made with acorns instead of cherries on account of that bein' an oak tree, I muttered to myself.

Anywho...  It turned out that there were no french fries to be had.  The wood chipper was chippin' nothin' but wood.  I watched as one of the men put the fallen branches into the chipper's mouth.  It appeared to be hungry.  I hoped it wasn't craving cherry pie.

I also made a mental note to keep a very far distance from anythin' lookin' even remotely like that wood chipper.  Looked kind of dangerous, if you ask me.

Plus, it was loud.  Louder than the surgeon's chain saw.  Loudest thing I've ever heard in my life... almost.  Peep #1's caterwaulin' comes pretty darned close.  Not quite sure which is more obnoxious soundin', though.  The jury is still out on that one.

And speakin' of loud, obnoxious noises.  I noticed that the surgeon and his...  ummm...  nurses? Anywho...  All the men workin' with the magical acorn-pickin' cherry picker and wood chippin' truck... They were all wearin' some heavy duty ear thingies to protect their ears from the noise of the saw and the chipper.  I have GOT to get myself a cat-sized pair of those.  They sure would come in handy when Peep #1 practises her caterwaulin' at home.  MOUSES!

And a cat-sized hard hat would come in handy, too.  Somethin' to protect my head from fallin' acorns from the oak tree.  The peep doesn't need one.  Her head is already hard enough.

At one point, the sound of the chipper subsided and the surgeon who, by the way, was still up in the tree, called out to Ol' Peepers who had momentarily stepped outside.  He was askin' if it was okay to remove one of the large limbs that hangs over the driveway.

I hollered, "NO!!!  That's my favourite branch!"

The peep and the surgeon ignored me, however.  The man said it was about eighty percent dead and Ol' Peepers said he should go ahead and take it.

I loved that branch.  That was my favourite branch of all.  It was almost completely horizontal and perfect for doin' the tight-rope walk.  Back and forth I would walk across that branch.  Best branch ever for doin' that sort of thing, not to mention, just hangin' out.

Oh sure, it was a high branch.  Really high, but still, excellent for tight-rope walkin'.  The squirrels liked to run around on it, too.  Now the squirrels and I have to settle for the other branch that hangs over the driveway which isn't quite as horizontal and not nearly so good.  Awww...  MOUSES!

Peep #1 later tried to console me about the loss of my favourite branch, pointing out that I hadn't actually been up there in months and months.  She reminded me that I hadn't been up there since my knee surgery last year.  I have been climbin' trees and whatnot but I haven't actually been up on that one particular branch.

Use it or lose it, is what they say.  Who knew they were talkin' about a branch in a tree?  MOUSES!

But thinkin' more about it, I hadn't been up on that branch since before my surgery in which I had my knee bionicized.  Remember that?  Remember when I tore all the ligaments in my knee and had to have them replaced with bionic ones?  The doctor said, at the time, I likely fell out of a tree.

MOUSES!  Could that have been the tree out of which I fell?  Could that branch have been the culprit?  It was really high.  Like...  really, REALLY high.  Fallin' from there onto the driveway could very well have done some damage.

At the time of my injury, I never told the peeps how it happened.  I never said a word.  And then I sort of put the whole thing out of my mind 'cause, to be honest, it was pretty sore and I just didn't like thinkin' about it.  Not to mention the fact that the pain killers were makin' me loopy.  Loopier than when I'm nipped!

But maybe that was where my accident happened and maybe, subconsciously, I had been avoidin' that branch ever since.

Nah...  Crazy that is.  Crazier than a squirrel makin' nut pies, kind of crazy.  Had I fallen out of my favourite branch, I would have remembered that. Everyone knows the real reason I hadn't been up there, as of late.  The real reason was that the grey squirrels had infiltrated the oak tree and commandeered that large, horizontal branch.  They were usin' it as their base camp.  MOUSES!

I don't know if you're all familiar with grey squirrels or not but let me tell you, they're big and they're mean. They're the biggest squirrels I have ever seen and they tease and taunt us cats like it's a national pastime or somethin'.  Sometimes, they even throw acorns at us from up in that tree.  And they only throw the icky acorns 'cause they keep all the best ones for themselves, to use in their nut pies.  Yeah, they like to bake nut pies.  They do it all the time. And you know, they're crazy.  MOUSES!

crazier than a squirrel makin' nut pies

My neighbourhood has gone to the dogs.  Yes, you heard that, correctly. It has gone to the dogs. MOUSES!

You know, there are an awful lot of doggies livin' in my neighbourhood. They appear to be everywhere.  To the north, to the south, to the east and the west.  Like I said, they're EVERYWHERE.

And not only are they livin' everywhere, but they're walkin' everywhere, too.  Every single day, I see doggies bein' walked past my house.  Big ones, little ones, in-between sized ones and even teeny-tiny almost minuscule ones that would seriously fit inside a teacup although, perhaps not so small that they could fit into one of those demitasse cups the peep has but never uses.  Those aren't even big enough to hold a cup of coffee.  MOUSES!

And where did they all come from?  And who let them out?  Yeah, who did let all those doggies out? Anyone ever figure that out?

Who let the dogs out?  One of life's greatest mysteries.  Still unsolved, to this day.  MOUSES!

I'm tellin' you, havin' all those dogs livin' in and wanderin' around my neighbourhood is crazy. CRAZY, I tell you.  Crazier than a squirrel makin' nut pies and believe-you-me, that's some serious kind of crazy.

And speakin' of squirrels.  They're everywhere, too.  Those grey squirrels are drivin' me crazy.  Not as crazy as them but crazy, nonetheless.

We have that big 'ol oak tree at the end of the driveway.  That big ol' oak tree that has been leadin' a double life.  By day, an oak tree.  By night, a squirrel magnet.  Or maybe it's the other way round. Hmmm...

Yeah, it is the other way round 'cause I only ever see the squirrels in the daytime but see them, I do. That ol' oak tree must be usin' its magnetic powers of persuasion to attract those squirrels durin' the daylight hours.  At night, it's just a tree.

The squirrels are after the acorns, I do believe.  They collect 'em to make pies.  Nut pies, of course. Don't know what other ingredients are required but they sure do need a lot of acorns.  They've been collecting 'em for ages.

You ever seen a squirrel makin' nut pies?  To tell you the truth, I haven't, either.  But if I ever did get to witness the squirrels bakin' their pies, I can assure you that the sight would be pretty crazy.  That's right...  CRAZY.  Crazier than a squirrel makin' nut pies kind of crazy.  After all, that's where the sayin' comes from.

Funny how we know that squirrels makin' nut pies is crazy and yet, so far, no one has discovered who let all those dogs out.  MOUSES!


Do you know somethin' else that's crazy?  Red scarves.  Yup, it's true.

A few weeks ago, the peeps were goin' shoppin' or somethin' when they noticed that hanging on one of the trees in my garden was a scarf.  Yup, there was a red scarf hangin' there, makin' itself right at home.  MOUSES!

Now the tree in question stands right at the edge of my garden and the scarf was hangin' on a branch reachin' over the ditch between my garden and the road.  I'm not allowed on the road and that's why I didn't discover the scarf, myself.  If it had been hangin' on a branch on the other side of the tree, I would have spotted it in a flash.

Anywho...  Peep #1 was drivin' and she stopped the car and stared at the scarf.  At least, that's what I was told, after the fact.  I wasn't actually in the car to witness the event, myself.

I do believe it was one of those "Wha???" moments that we all experience from time to time.  I mean, who the mouses goes around hangin' scarves on trees?  Discoverin' one hangin' there has got to lead the discoverer to cry, "Wha?" in dismay.  Seriously.

Well the scarf didn't belong to anyone livin' at my house.  Not to the peeps and not to any of us cats. We cats don't wear scarves, you see.

So another mystery had presented itself.  Who hung the scarf on the tree?  To whom did the scarf belong?  And what were the peeps gonna do about it?

Turns out, they chose to ignore it.

Well that ol' scarf hung there on that tree for a couple of days until finally, Peep #1 declared, "If it's still there on garbage day, it's going out."

I immediately called up the squirrels and said, "Sorry for interruptin' your baking but if you wanna keep your scarf, you had better go collect it, immediately.  Peep #1 is seein' red."

The squirrels denied any knowledge of the scarf hangin' in the tree and went back to bakin' their pies.  MOUSES!

But before the scarf could be chucked in the garbage, it disappeared.  Or did it....

The scarf was no longer hangin' in the tree and Peep #1 forgot all about it.  Out of sight, out of mind, I suppose.  Garbage day came and garbage day went and the scarf was never thought of, again.

Then just the other day, while my claws were clickin' away at the ol' computer 'cause I was workin' on my blog, I happened to glance up and look out my office window.  There was some movement on the road, just beyond the trees.  Hmmm...

I could see a dog out there on that road.  He was movin' about a little but not really walkin'.  I said to myself, "I bet he's poopin'.  There had better be a peep with him to do some scoopin'!"

Eventually, the dog started walkin' again and I saw, that followin' a few feet behind him was his peep. His peep was walkin' rather slowly.  She was walkin' slowly, holdin' a piece of fabric out in front of her.  Yup, his peep was admirin' her new red scarf.  MOUSES!

I have given a lot of thought to this latest mystery.  I do believe that the scarf must have fallen to the ground, unnoticed by my peeps.  Being peeps, they immediately forgot about it.  The woman walkin' the dog must have spotted the scarf and climbed down into the ditch to retrieve it.  Finders keepers, as they say.  At least the scarf has a home now.  Better with her than in the garbage like my peep was gonna do.

From where the scarf originally came, we will never know.  That mystery shall remain unsolved like all the other great unsolved mysteries of our time. Mysteries like, exactly who built Stonehenge and why?  How did the Egyptians build the Great Pyramid and could aliens actually have been involved?  And yes, my friends, who did let all those doggies out?  And were those doggies in question ever sittin' in a window and if so, how much were they?

So many unanswered questions.  So many mysteries.  It's enough to drive a kitty a little squirrelly, if you know what I mean.

Hmmm...  I wonder if those squirrels top their nut pies with whipped cream.  Bet they do.  Yup, I'm almost certain of it.  Anythin' else would be...  CRAZY.

the coffeeless peep

Do you know what you get when you withhold coffee from a peep?  I'll tell you what you get.  You get one crazy peep.  MOUSES!

And when I say crazy, I mean CRAZY. Crazier than a squirrel makin' nut pies kind of crazy, if you know what I mean.

Now before anyone starts thinkin' that I, Nerissa the Cat, am responsible for the peep's lack of coffee, I'm not.  It wasn't me.  It wasn't my fault.  It was all the fault of the peep.

I know...  I know...  I would have been well within my rights to withhold Peep #1's coffee as punishment for her havin' totally ruined my loo. Remember how she did that? Remember how she planted those primroses and completely and utterly ruined my loo?  She certainly would have deserved to be punished for that.  Would have deserved that, for sure.

But I did not withhold coffee from the peep on account of her ruinin' my loo 'cause I'm not that kind of cat.  I'm not the kind of cat who holds a grudge.  I'm not that kind of cat at all.

Besides, by conventional standards, the withholding of coffee from a peep could be considered cruel and unusual punishment.  I'm far too nice a guy to do somethin' like that.  What's more, I would be left dealin' with said coffeeless peep.  I'm far too smart a guy to want to have to deal with that.  I'm not crazy.  The world of crazy totally belongs to the peep.

I was asked by some of the other cats in my family if I was performin' some sort of  scientific experiment upon the peep.  If I was performin' an experiment to see just how crazy that crazy ol' peep of mine would get without her daily fix of coffee.  I had to point out to my fur-fam that an experiment such as that would not only be unethical but also, incredibly crazy.  That performin' such an experiment would be crazy beyond crazy and that clearly, the world of crazy, belongs to the peep.

And the squirrels.  Those nut pie makin' squirrels.  There's a family of 'em livin' in the oak tree at the end of my driveway. They're pretty crazy, for sure.

The peep's lack of coffee was not due to a cruel and unusual form of punishment exacted by myself.  Nor was it due to some sort of insanely unethical experiment bein' performed by crazy nut pie makin' squirrely scientists.  The peep's lack of coffee was due to none other than the peep.  The peep bein'... well...  a peep.

Let me explain...

On the first day, the peep filled up the coffeemaker with water before turning it on.  Unfortunately, she forgot to add the coffee.  Yes, she forgot to put any ground coffee into the coffeemaker.

Do you know what happens when a peep forgets to put the ground coffee in the coffeemaker?  I can tell you exactly what happens.  What happens is that said peep ends up brewin' a big ol' pot of hot water.  MOUSES!

On the second day, the peep remembered to add the ground coffee and before you ask, yes, she remembered to add the water, too.  However, she forgot to turn the coffeemaker on.  That little button at the front of the coffeemaker?  It controls everything.  It even controls whether or not there's coffee for the peep.  You don't turn it on?  You don't get your coffee.  MOUSES!

On the third day...

Well on the third day, the peep got her coffee.  I made sure of it.  I stood there and watched over her, makin' sure she did everythin' correctly.  I couldn't deal with a coffeeless peep for a third day in a row.  I just couldn't stand it.  I had to make sure the peep got some coffee in her, once and for all.

I was beginning to think that perhaps my peep was even crazier than originally thought.  Crazier than your typical crazy peep.  Crazier than squirrels makin' nut...  Nah, no one is as crazy as that.

And if she wasn't crazy, she was bein' down-right forgetful.  Bein' down-right forgetful, for sure.  Either that or she was nipped.

Oh my gosh...  I just thought of somethin'.  What if the peep was nipped on my nip?  MOUSES!

I've gotta go check on my stash.  Be right back.