Showing posts with label kisses. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kisses. Show all posts

Wednesday, 26 October 2022

sixth sense


You ever get that feelin'?


That weird kinda feelin'?


You ever get that weird kinda feelin' that someone is watchin' you?  Stalkin' you?  Keepin' their eyes on your every movement?


No?


Lucky you.


MOUSES!


No, the neighbours aren't spyin' on me.


I don't think.


MOUSES!


The ones currently spyin' on me are of the home-grown kind, if you know what I mean.  You know the type.  The type of peepin' peeps who live right here in my house with me.


Yup, those are the ones.


MY PEEPS.


MOUSES!


And it's not just me, either.  Same spies spyin' on me are spyin' on Saffy Saffron Sassafras, as well.  Oh yeah, they're totally spyin' on him.  Totally!


MOUSES!


So anyway...


So anyway, Saffy got the fright of his life - not sure which one of the nine it was - the other day when he woke up in his basket to find Peepers standin' over him like some kinda freakin' freak.  She had a weird grin on her face, too.  That weird kinda grin peeps get just before they reach down and scoop you up in their arms so that they can totally smother you in icky, gross kisses.


And Saffy, bein' relatively new to the whole livin' with our peeps thing, didn't have the sense to jump out of that ol' basket and run as fast as his legs would take him, right out of Peepers' reach.


Silly Saffy.


MOUSES!


Bottom line is, Saffy Saffron Sassafras is gonna have to develop a stronger sixth sense so that when he starts to get that feelin'...  That icky, yucky, totally gross and disgustingly weird feelin' in the pit of his stomach...  Well when he starts to get the feelin'...


He knows how to respond.


Provided the feelin' of ick in his stomach isn't from eatin' too many treats, of course, although that does kinda go without sayin'.


'Cause if he doesn't figure it out soon, that cat is gonna be covered - COVERED! I tell you - in even more of Peepers' icky ol' kisses.


And no cat ever wants that.


Trust me, I know


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.

Wednesday, 14 December 2016

under the mistletoe

Oof!  Oaf!  Lemme go, woman!  MOUSES!

I said, LEMME GO!!!

MOUSES!

You hard of hearin' these days, Peepers?  You been listenin' to too many Christmas carols and the like?  You blown an eardrum or somethin' like that?

OH MY MOUSES!  Were you listenin' to yourself?  Were you caterwaulin', and you heard yourself caterwalin', and your ears went on strike?

Nah, that couldn't be it.  If ears could go on strike on account of hearin' you caterwaul, MY ears would have gone strike long ago.

LEMME GO!!!

Fine.  Just do it.  Just do it and get it over with.  Let me close my eyes.  Let me hold my breath. Let's just get this over with and be done with it.

EWWW.....

MOUSES!!!

Excuse me Peepers, I have to go have a bath.  I need to wash off all those peep germs you left behind when you kissed me.  MOUSES!

And if I haven't told you this before - although I'm pretty sure that I have - let me tell you it now. KISSES ON THE TOP OF THE HEAD ARE EXTREMELY DIFFICULT TO WASH OFF.  It's not like I can reach up there with my tongue.  MOUSES!

For cryin' out loud.  Peeps and their moused-up balls of mistletoe hangin' all over the place. MOUSES!

Any of you cats out there havin' issues with peeps thinkin' that just because a ball of mistletoe is hangin' from the ceilin', they get to scoop you up in their arms, and kiss you?  Any of you cats havin' trouble with that?  Anybody?

Well at my house, there's a mistletoe kissin' epidemic goin' on, and let me tell you, it's as gross as all get out.  MOUSES!

And you can't even build up any immunity!

At least with stuff like uh...  um...  chicken pox, peeps don't get 'em twice. But mistletoe kisses? You can get 'em more than once in the same day!

Sometimes more than once in the same hour!

MOUSES!

Just this mornin', Peep #1 was scoopin' me up and kissin' me, sayin' the Mistletoe Clause of 2014 allowed her to do so.  And no sooner was I done washin' off all her peep germs from the first incident, why, she was kissin' me again.  MOUSES!

It's stuff like this that gets a kitty in trouble with Santa Claus.  I mean, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY TIMES I'VE CRIED MOUSES TODAY?

DO HAVE YOU ANY IDEA HOW MANY TIMES I'VE CRIED MOUSES IN THE LAST HOUR?

MOUSES!

And what's with the idea of kissin' kitties under balls of poisonous berries, anyway?  Who came up with a stupid idea like that in the first place?

Humph!  Probably some stupid peep.  MOUSES!

You've heard of the kiss of death, have you?  Sounds more like the kissin' ball of death, to me. MOUSES!

Now if Peep #1 wanted to hang up bunches of catnip and kiss me under those...

Now THAT'S an idea I could get behind, for sure.

Or underneath.

Whatever.

Bottom line is, stupid ol' balls of mistletoe hangin' from the ceilin' do not - I repeat, do NOT - entitle peeps to take liberties with us cats.

And please...  PLEASE... For mousin' sake...  If you're gonna go around kissin' us, don't do it on the tops of our heads! Peep germs left on the tops of our heads are way to difficult to wash off by ourselves.

MOUSES!



Wednesday, 27 July 2016

the cuddle monster

So like I was sayin', Andy, it's like this.  The cuter you are, the more you get picked up and cuddled.  That's why you don't get picked up and cuddled as much as I...

FINE.  You get picked up too.  Yeah, yeah... Cuddled as well.  And kissed.

Wait a minute.  Wait a mousie mousin' moused-up minute.  Were you complainin' that you do or do not get picked up enough?

Oh yeah.  Okay.  Well, the problem is, you're too cute for your own good.  If you were less cute, Peep #1 wouldn't pick you up nearly as much.  And there wouldn't be so much cuddlin' goin' on, either.

And by the way, you still don't get picked up and cuddled as much as I do.  If ever there were a cat to have a right to be complainin' about too much cuddling and stuff, it would be me.  I mean, just the other day...

Yeah, yeah...  Toby gets picked up a lot too.

Toby has two problems goin' on there.  First of all, she's small, like a kitten, even though she's all grown up.  That makes her super cute.  And secondly, she's small, like a kitten, and that makes her really light.  Turns out, the lighter you are, the easier it is for a peep to pick you up.  MOUSES!

So THAT'S why you're always asking for extra treats.  You want to be too heavy for the peeps to pick you up, huh?

Well Andy, that's just not gonna work.

Well I'LL TELL you why.  I was just gettin' to that.  First of all, Andy, you're already the heaviest of all of us cats and Peep #1 is still pickin' you up.  So if you've been aimin' to be too heavy for cuddles, you've failed on that account, for sure.  And secondly, I don't know if you've noticed or not, but the peep picks up those big, heavy bags of manure for the garden and...

NO, I'm not callin' you a big bag of poopies.  MOUSES!

Although if the paw fits...  Uh... What's that?  Ummm....  Never mind.

Andy, I'm tryin' to explain that if Peep #1 can lug around a big ol' bag of manure for the garden, which is pretty darned heavy, she's probably gonna be able to pick you up, too.  I don't think that even you could pack in enough treats to make yourself heavier than a big ol' bag of garden manure.

Although LORD KNOWS you do try.  MOUSES!

Andy, if you're really annoyed by all the cuddling, you should do what Tess does.  You know, how she growls all the time?  Growls at this and that, and that and this, and just about everythin' in between.

Oh yeah, you're right.  Even with all that growling, Peep #1 still picks Tess up and gives her kisses and everythin'.

BUT NEVER FOR LONG!  MOUSES!

Andy, do you even know how to growl?  Not sure if I've ever heard you growl.  I've seen you smacky paw a cat.  Goodness knows, I've been on the receiving end of those giant-sized, part Coon smacky paws of yours, but now that I think about it, I don't think I've ever actually heard you growl.   If you're in need of some growlin' lessons, I hear Tess gives classes in 'em.  Cheap.  MOUSES!

No, that's not how Mason avoids bein' picked up.  Mason never growls either.  But she squirms! She's a squirmy wormy, for sure.  I've heard Peep #1 call her that many a time and once, the doctor even called her a squirmy wormy without knowin' the peep was already doin' that, so obviously, Mason is a true squirmy wormy, for sure.  She can't avoid actually bein' picked up, but is usually able to squirm her way out of the peep's grasp without too many kisses.

Rushton?  Hmmm...  Let me think on that for a bit.

Actually, I don't think Rushy avoids bein' picked up.  Or bein' kissed!  To tell you the truth, I think he kinda likes it.

I know!  MOUSES!

And did you see?  Last night, Peep #1 even picked up - and kissed - Dionysia.  The peep doesn't even know if Dionysia is a girl or a boy yet, and she's already takin' advantage of any opportunity she can, to get close enough to her (or him) and give him (or her) cuddles and kisses and...

You noticed that too, huh?  Yup, Dionysia wasn't all that thrilled with the cuddles.  She's more of a you-may-pet-me-on-the-top-of-my-head-prior-to-feeding-me-out-here-on-the-veranda-but-no-more kinda cat, for sure.

Wait 'til Dionysia finds out 'bout the peep finding us cats so irresistible for cuddling.  Wait 'til she finds out the peep is a cuddle monster.  Wait 'til finds out that if ever there were an award from bein' a cuddle monster, Peep #1 would win said award, for sure.  MOUSES!

What do I do?  What do I, Seville the Cat, do to avoid bein' picked up, cuddled and kissed?

Well...

Well for starters, I shed a lot.  A peep can't pick me up without my leavin' my mark on 'em, so to speak.  And dependin' upon what the peeps are wearin', this sheddin' of mine does avoid a lot of cuddlin'.  You may have noticed that neither of the peeps ever pick me up when they're on their way out the door.

Yeah, you're right.  It IS a totally different story when they return.

Fact is, Andy, I get picked up and cuddled and kissed an awful lot.  Way too much for my liking, to be sure.  It's the price one pays for bein' so gosh darned handsome and cute and cuddly and irresistible, I suppose.

But what can I do?  It's not like I can stop bein' handsome.  Not like I can stop bein' cute.  Not like I can stop bein' cuddly.  Not like I can stop bein' kissable.  Not like I can...

What's that, Andy?  Not like I can stop bein' WHAT?

ANDY!  MOUSES!

And that, my brother, is why you are not picked up and cuddled as much as I.  MOUSES!