"I thought we had cats," the peep fumed, placing her hands on her hips in a disgruntled fashion. "I THOUGHT WE HAD CATS.""What's up, Peepers?" I asked. "Havin' a bad day, are we?"
The peep narrowed her eyes. "Since you ask, Seville, the blue jays have been making a mess of my potted lettuce seeds."
I looked over at the plant pots in which the peep had planted her lettuce the day before and sure enough, there was a blue jay struttin' about in one, just like he owned the joint. The bird looked over at me and nonchalantly gave me the feather. MOUSES!
"So uh... What's your point there, Peepers? What does that there blue jay have to do with us cats?" I asked.
The peep let out a loud sigh. Loud enough for at least half the world to hear, I'm sure. "You'd think that in a multi-cat household, the birds would stay away from my plants."
"Well if you don't want the birds to visit," I began, "you should probably stop feeding 'em."
"I'm NOT feeding them," she replied. "I'm certainly not feeding them lettuce seed."
I screwed up my nose. "Um.. APPARENTLY, Peepers, you are. MOUSES!"
"Ugh," and Ol' Peepers spun on her heels and began to head for the house.
"No need to freak out about it!" I called out to her. Then, turnin' to my fur-sibs, I began clickin' my claws to an upbeat beat.
And now, for a musical interlude from the Back Street Cats.
"Aaahh FREAK OUT!" we sang. "Le freak, see'est Chic. FREAK OUT!"
Peep #1 turned back to face us again, staring at my fur-sibs and me with disgust.
"Don't speak, Monique," we sang."Who the mouses is Monique?" the peep asked.
"I don't know," I answered, "but whoever she is, her name rhymes with speak."
At that moment, the blue jay dancin' in the plant pots with the lettuce seeds, stopped dancin' and gave me the feather again.
Or maybe he was givin' it to the peep.
MOUSES!
"Freak out! Peep's seeds, your beak," we continued to sing.
The peep rolled her eyes.
"Plant more, next week," I suggested, all the while keepin' in tune.
The peep threw her arms up in the air. "HAS THE WHOLE WORLD GONE CRAZY?" she cried out to no one in particular. She looked like she was about to give up on the conversation. Either that or... You know... Freak out. I looked over at the bird again who was now actively pecking away at the soil in the plant pot. Every now and then he'd find a lettuce seed and swallow it whole.
Not that one would not swallow lettuce seeds whole, mind you. I mean, they are kinda small. Not worth the bother of cutting 'em up with a knife, for sure.
"Aren't you going to do ANYTHING about that bird?" the peep cried.
I shrugged my shoulders. "Like what?"
"Like... Like... Like scare him off. Shoo him away. ACT LIKE CATS, for goodness sake."
I looked at my fur-sibs and my fur-sibs looked right back at me. We knew exactly what we needed to do. Huddling together, we formed a plan of action.
And now, for another musical interlude from the Back Street Cats:
"They'll be swinging, swaying, records playing. Dancing in the street," we sang. "Doesn't matter what you wear, even feathers in your hair. Every cat, grab a bird. Birds right 'round the world... WILL BE dancin' in the street. They'll be swinging, swaying, plant pot playing..."
The peep just stood there, her mouth hangin' halfway to the ground. Gathering her senses, she calmly stated, "You cats are all nuts. Every single one of you is nuts. NUTS."
"Nuts?" I questioned. "Now if you wanna talk nuts, Peepers, we should consult the squirrels. HEY BIRD!" I called out to the blue jay. "You know where the squirrels are today? You seen any of 'em hangin' about?"The blue jay once again gave me the feather. Then he went back to struttin' about in the plant pot, lookin' for more lettuce seed.
"Look, Peepers, we tried," I sighed. "Like I said before: If you don't wanna attract the birds, you've gotta stop feeding 'em. They seem to really like lettuce seed so uh... So why don't you start by stop feeding 'em that. MOUSES!'
