the box

As you may remember, my last blog post was about Peepers diggin' up the garden bed where she grew her stupid peas.  You might also remember 'bout my findin' a long-lost catnip plant that wasn't actually lost - on account of my previously not knowin' of its existence - but was a real live treasure to find, to be sure.

MOUSES!

Well as it turns out, the fun didn't end there!  No sirree, once Peepers had that garden bed all dug up and prepped for whatever stupid stuff she'll plant in there next...

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

It will TOO be stupid.

NO, of course the catnip plant wasn't stupid.  But you didn't actually plant the catnip plant, did you.  You planted that bed full of peas; and FYI, Peepers, peas are most definitely stupid.  So unless you're plannin' on plantin' catnip in the bed next year, odds are, WHATEVER you plant will, in fact, be stupid.  

Hmmm...

Peepers, you weren't actually thinkin' of fillin' that bed with catnip, were you?

No?  Then yeah, just as I said, whatever it is will definitely be stupid.

MOUSES!

But back to that dug up plant bed.

So anyway, Saffron and I have found a really good use for that bed ol' Peepers dug up.  Can you guess what it might be?

No, we're not plannin' on sleepin' in it.

I know, I know....  I know it's a bed.  But it's a different kinda bed, you see.

No other ideas?  None at all?  The bed is eight feet long, four feet wide, and about eight inches or so high.

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

What do you MEAN by tellin' me not to get any ideas about usin' that plant bed.

Just ignore the peep, my friends

I usually do.

MOUSES!

But anyway...

But anyway, I won't keep you in suspense any longer.  Saffron and I have decided that a four by eight foot bed filled with about eight inches of soil MAKES THE MOST EXCELLENT....

WHAT IS IT NOW, PEEPERS.  WHAT IS IT NOW?

Yes, I know.  Yes, I know Saffy's out there doin' his business in our new and improved litter box.  In fact, I was just tellin' my pals all about that, this very minute.

Oh get a grip, Peepers.  You're actin' like a crazy lady, for sure.

My gosh, a peep makes the biggest, most excellent litter box for her kitties that I, Seville the Cat, have ever seen in all my nine lives; BUT WHEN SAID KITTIES actually USE the biggest, most excellent litter box any kitty has ever seen, said peep does nothin' but complain.

And freak out.

And then more complainin'.

Blah, blah, blah...   Blah, blah, blah, blah...  BLAH, BLAH, BLAH...

Yup, that's just what she sounds like, for sure.

MOUSES!

Now you'll have to excuse me, my pals.  I'm feelin' the need to use the new outdoor litter box Peepers was so kind to make for Saffy and me.

Even if its usage DOES come with a series of complaints.

Oh quit your gripin', woman.  Outta my way.  I, Seville the Cat, really need to pee.

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.

doin' his business

Saffron can't sit on the chesterfield with you right now, Peepers.  He's busy.  Outside.  He's uh...  He's doin' his business.

MOUSES!

Well how am I supposed to know what kinda business he's doin'?  It's not like I'm out there watchin' him or anythin' like that.  

MOUSES!

'Cause my bein' out there watchin' him doin' his business would be RUDE, Peepers.  That's why.

MOUSES!

Lookie here, Peepers.  When Saffy Saffron Sassifras goes outside to do his business, he could be doin' any number of things.  He could be doin' number one, number two, or...  Or he could be conductin' a conference call or somethin' like that.  He could be wheelin' and dealin' with Google or the Canadian Government or - God forbid - the infamous Weasel Syndicate.

You know, that sorta thing.

MOUSES!

I TOLD YOU, I don't watch my brother while he does his business.  If he's doin' numbers one or two, I don't wanna see that.  I'm not like you perverted peeps who watch over us cats at the litter box, ready to swoop in with the scoop and do goodness-knows-what with our poopies.  I, Seville the Cat, find that really, really weird.

And FYI, so all the other cats in the world.

I took a poll, so I know.

MOUSES!

And what's more...

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

I DID SO take a poll.  Took it on the Internet, I did.  On social media.  And cats from all 'round the world voted.  They OVERWHELMINGLY voted that peeps mysteriously disappearin' what we cats leave in our litter boxes is weird.  WEIRD, I tell you.  Weird!

Did I mention it was weird?

MOUSES!

And speakin' of polls...

And speakin' of polls, the takin' of said polls on social media is another form of us cats doin' our business.

WELL I NEVER SAID it was a money-makin' kinda business, now, did I.  Turns out, peeps won't pay us cats for our opinions on the weirdness of other peeps wieldin' litter box scoops.

Believe me, I know.

I tried to charge for the information but no one paid.

MOUSES!

And furthermore...

And furthermore, Peepers, when all the cats in the world took my poll 'bout you peeps and your fascination with our litter boxes...

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

It was a legitimate poll, Peepers.

Was too.

Was too!

I HAVE NO IDEA what all the cats' names were.  It was what we in-the-know call an ANONYMOUS poll.  You know what anonymous means, Peepers?  It means, they didn't give me their names.

Well they were probably afraid that if their peeps found out how weird they were for bein' fascinated with us cats doin' our business, their peeps might become even more fascinated with litter box deposits, and...

Yeah, I know.  I know...  It would be pretty hard for peeps to be even more fascinated with what we cats do in our litter boxes than they already are.  But then...

But then...

But the thing is, you see...

Peeps ARE weird.

Believe me, I know.

Gotta a couple weird ones, myself.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

famous last words

As you may or may not have heard, Peep #1 had a birthday last week.

How old is she, you ask?

Well...

Well you know that saying 'bout something bein' as old as the hills?  Let's just say, the peep's older.

MOUSES!

But back to the birthday.  The peep and a mutual pal of ours were chattin' over on Facebook, when our mutual pal asked if Rushy and I had given Peepers a prezzie.

And the peep...

And the peep, bein' a peep, responded with a glib, not-so-funny-as-she-thought-it-was kinda answer.  She said neither one of us had peed on her yet, so that was a start.

Can you believe it?

MOUSES!

First of all, there's a sayin' about bein' peed upon by a cat, bein' lucky.  Not so lucky as not bein' peed upon, I suppose, BUT IT'S A SAYIN' NONETHELESS.

And secondly, the peep may have, in fact, spoken too soon.  Or maybe it's a case where she spoke when she shouldn't have.  OR POSSIBLY, she should have made sure I didn't have access to her messages and chats and overhear what she was sayin', 'cause...

'Cause you know what they say.

They say...

FAMOUS.  LAST.  WORDS.

MOUSES!

NO, I did not pee upon the peep.  Neither did Rushy.  I don't think.

MOUSES!

But on the mornin' after the birthday, Peepers walked into the sunroom and thought to herself, something isn't right.  She sniffed the air.  Then sniffed it again.  Then thought, something smells awful in here.

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', one of the peep's stupid plants had started blooming and was stinkin' up the house.  You know, like her stupid little citrus trees, or the plumeria, or somethin' like that.

WELL THINK AGAIN, my friends, for the peep is a lousy gardener and most of her plants never bloom.

MOUSES!

So the peep looked about and what did she see?

Well let's just say...

The next thing I heard...

Was WHAT CAT POOPED IN HERE?

MOUSES!

Now let me tell you somethin', my friends, IT WAS NOT I.  Nope, no sirree.  I was not the offending kitty.  It was Rushy, for sure.  I can guarantee it.

And you know somethin' else?  The peep realised it was Rushy, too.

MOUSES!

Now I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin'...  Actually, you're wondering, how did the peep know?

Well get this, my friends: Peepers knows the difference between our - Rushy's and my - poops.

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?

MOUSES!

What IS it with peeps and their fascination 'bout what we cats do in the litter box?  Or in this case, on the sunroom floor.  WHAT IS IT?  I mean, do we cats go 'round inspecting the toilets of peeps?  OF COURSE NOT.  That would be gross.  Gross beyond gross.  Grotesquely gross, for sure.  Never once have I done such a thing.

So why is it that peeps are always stickin' their noses in our litter boxes?  WHY?

Okay, so they don't LITERALLY stick their noses in there - thank goodness - but you know what I mean, right?  Of course you do.

MOUSES!

What I do in the litter box is between me and the box.  Yes, I do appreciate the peeps gettin' in there and scooping it out as soon as they possibly can, but THEY CAN KEEP THEIR OPINIONS 'BOUT WHAT THEY'RE SCOOPIN', TO THEMSELVES.  No kitty wants to hear if their poopies are smellier than normal or soft or messy or neat.  Just scoop and be done with it, Peepers.  Scoop and be done!

What happens in the box stays in the box.

MOUSES!

Okay, so to clarify, WE KITTIES DO WANT you to clean our litter boxes out.  But there's no need for a running commentary on the subject.  Got that?  We deserve a little litter box privacy, you see.

And the very fact that Peepers knows the difference between my poopies and Rushy's poopies means SHE'S GIVING WAY TOO MUCH THOUGHT TO WHAT SHE SCOOPS.

MOUSES!

So the bottom line is...

Uh...


Um...

Okay, the bottom line is, it was not I who pooped on the sunroom floor for Peep #1's birthday.  That, and the fact that peeps' fascination with cats' litter box habits is somewhat unnerving.

Unnerving and gross.  Grotesquely gross, for sure.

Not to mention weird.

MOUSES!

the dig

"Hey Peepers, come take a looksie at this.  What do you suppose he's doing out there, huh?"

The peep shrugged.  I shrugged.  We both shrugged together.

MOUSES!

"You think he could be diggin' for gold out there?  Or diamonds?  Or uh...  Or somethin' good, like the nip?"

"He probably went to the bathroom and is covering it up, Seville."  Peepers rolled her eyes with an accompanying loud sigh.  "There are perfectly good litter boxes in the house and yet Rushton decides to go outdoors.  Right in the middle of the lawn, too," she added with a scowl.

"Nope, that's not it," I told her.  "He already pooped in the box.  My gosh, woman, didn't you smell it when you came in the room?"

The peep glanced toward the two litter boxes outside the bathroom door and noticing one had been recently used, she headed over to clean it out.  Goodness knows how she hadn't smelled it earlier.  Must have a defective honker, or somethin' like that.  MOUSES!

"So anyway," I began again, anxious to get our little conversation back on track.  "What do you suppose he's looking for out there?  Gold?  Diamonds?  Catnip?  Anythin' else of value that might be there?"

"WHAT?"

Clearly it was not only the peep's nose that was out of order.  Her hearin' appeared to be impaired, too.

"I SAID, WHAT DO YOU SUPPOSE HE'S LOOKING FOR OUT THERE?  GOLD?  DIAMONDS?  OR BETTER YET, CATNIP?"

"You don't have to yell, Seville.  If Rushy's not using the lawn as a bathroom, he's probably just digging for the fun of it."

"Are you MAD, woman?  We cats don't dig for fun.  We're not dogs, you know.  Dogs dig all the time for no reason other than to dig.  Or to find some bone they buried way back when, then forgot where it was they buried it.  Hmmm...  You think Rushy could be digging for bones?"

The peep narrowed her eyes and gave me one of those looks.  You know the ones.  The looks that humans get when they realize they're incapable of keeping up with the intricate and complex thought processes of us cats.  MOUSES!

"Nah, he can't be digging for bones," I said.  "We cats have like zero interest in bones.  Bones are for dogs and pretty much useless to us cats.  In fact, they're not even safe for us to have.  You should know that, Peepers.  You should know 'bout not giving us cats, bones."

"Seville, you and your brother roll around in the dirt all the time.  I see no difference between rolling around in it and digging it up."

"Peepers, dirt baths are a necessity of life.  Like water and air, not to mention snacks.  You know, those kinda things.  Necessity things.  Dirt baths have nothin' at all to do with digging in the ground."

The peep and I took a moment to stare out the window at Rushy once more, who was now digging even more furiously than before.  He was digging like a madcat, for sure.

I briefly entertained the thought my brother might be tryin' to dig his way down and through the Earth, all the way to China, but then realized how foolish that sounded.  EVERYONE KNOWS if you go straight through the Earth from Nova Scotia, on the other side you'll end up in the middle of an ocean.  Nowhere near China, at all.  Even Rushy knows that.

What's more, he was getting nowhere, real fast.

Probably on account of the fact that he still hadn't managed to break through the lawn.

MOUSES!

And then, as suddenly as he had started, Rushton stopped digging, all on his own.

Then he squatted.

And then...

He peed.

Yup, right there in the middle of the lawn, for all the world to see.

MOUSES!

"Well would you look at that," I said with surprise.  "I guess Rushy forgot to pee earlier when he used the litter box to poop.  Who knew?"

MOUSES!

"May I go now?" asked the peep.

"Yes, you are excused.  But don't go too far, Peepers.  I'm feelin' the need to use the little boys' room, myself.  You might wanna stick around to clean out the box when I'm done.  Oh, and Peepers?"

"Yes?"

"You should plan on hauling out the broom from the closet, 'cause all of a sudden, I'm feeling in the mood to scatter a lot of litter about."

MOUSES!

labour of love

Labour Day, huh?

Hmmm...

MOUSES!

So Peepers, exactly what do you labour at that gives you the right to consider this weekend a holiday?  A weekend for celebratin' and stuff.  I don't think I've ever seen you labourin' at anythin'

MOUSES!

And you CERTAINLY don't labour at anythin' concernin' me.

MOUSES!

Litter boxes, you say?

What about 'em?  We have a few.  What's so laborious about them?

What do you MEAN you don't enjoy cleanin' out our litter boxes?

No, seriously, what do you mean?

Really?

REALLY?

Well I'll be...

MOUSES!

Would you rather we use the floor?

Oh quit your griping, woman.  I'm only kiddin'.

Kiddin' about our usin' the floor, that is.  I, Seville the Cat, am a respectable cat.  I would never dream of doin' potty on the floor.  Never in a million nine lives.

I'm still waitin' to hear why you don't enjoy cleanin' out our boxes, though.  I wasn't kiddin' about that.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of respectable cats...

That there line ends with me.  Me, Seville the Cat.

Well...  Well maybe Mason, too.  But those two long-haired freaky marmie brothers of mine?  NEVER.

MOUSES!

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

You don't enjoy cleanin' up the mess we sometimes leave 'round our plates, either?  The mess we make when some of us tend to pick through our food, knockin' bits of it off said plates and onto the floor?

Meh...  You say mess, I say artwork.

MOUSES!

Besides, you do know we do that for your benefit, don't you?  We do that to give you somethin' to do.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, 'bout this lack of daily labourin' you don't do but celebrate anyway:  What's up with that?  This some kinda fake holiday or somethin'?  Some kinda fake holiday peeps made up to sell Happy Labour Day cards and run movie marathons on TV?  Some kinda fake holiday for...

WHAT THE MOUSES, WOMAN!  I thought I already told you to quit your gripin', and...

Oh for mousin' out loud...

Of all the mousingly rude things to do...

The peep just walked out of the room on me.

WITHOUT EVEN SO MUCH AS A BY YOUR LEAVE.

Can you believe it?

MOUSES!

Happy Labour Day Weekend Everybody!  Happy Labour Day Weekend, whether you're a peep who labours with litter boxes and food artwork, or not.

MOUSES!

I need a box!

What to do, what to do...

MOUSES!

Oh hello there, my friends.  I'm afraid you've found me in a bit of a sticky situation, for sure. Tomorrow is International Box Day and I, Seville the Cat, do not yet have a box.  That's right.  I'm boxless.  MOUSES!

I don't know how it happened.  Usually the peep is good for a box or two.  There's usually at least one box lyin' about.

Lyin'.  Layin'.  Lyin'.  Whatever.

But today, on International Box Day Eve, there is not a box to be found.  MOUSES!

WHAT AM I GONNA DO?

On the other paw...

What's this?  Could this be a box?  A box especially pour moi?

Humph!  This box appears to have a bunch of stuff already in it.  But my need to have box for International Box Day, supersedes any need this stuff has to be in a box.

Hey Peepers!  What do want me to do with all this stuff here in this here box?

What stuff, you ask?  This stuff.  This stuff here in this here box.

What box, you ask?  This box.  This box here with all this stuff.

Boy-oh-boy, you'd think I was askin' her to do complex mathematical calculations or somethin'. Sometimes I really wonder 'bout the intelligence of my peep.  MOUSES!

Hey Peepers!  You want me to just chuck it?  Just chuck out all this stuff from this here box?  I'll leave it out by the back door and you can toss it in the garbage later.

I don't know.  Just some papers and things.  I don't they're very important.  None of 'em pertain to me.

And with that, I was unceremoniously lifted out of my new-found box, and plunked down on the carpet beside it.

MOUSES!

But Peepers, THAT'S MY BOX.

No, I don't have my name on it, but neither do you.

I bet I can leave my mark on that ol' box quicker than you can write your name.  MOUSES!

NO, I didn't pee on the box.

NO, I didn't pee on anythin' in the box, either.  What kinda kitty do you think I am?  MOUSES!

Peepers, I need a box.  I NEED a box.  I need a box by tomorrow, for sure.

Tomorrow!  TOMORROW!  Do you know NOTHING, woman?  Tomorrow is International Box Day and I, Seville the Cat, am in dire need of a box.

NOT A LITTER BOX.  MOUSES!

A box box, Peepers.  You know, a box.  I need a box.  I need a box to play in, a box to nap in, a box to have a little wash in, and whatever-else-I-wanna-do in.  You know, a box!  A box in which to do box things.

Again with the litter box wise-cracks?  Since when did you become such a potty-mouth, Peepers? MOUSES!

Well Peepers, if I can't have that box, you'll need to find me some other box.  You have any spare boxes hidden about?

What do you MEAN you don't keep spare boxes hidden about?  What kind of peep are you?  Don't you know it's your duty to have spare boxes on paw for emergencies such as this?

Peepers, my not havin' a box for International Box Day IS an emergency, for sure.  Boxes and nip mice should ALWAYS be in ready supply.  It's all there in our cat-peep contract.  Good peeps know that.  Clearly, you're not a very good peep.

And since you're such a lousy peep...

I mean, since you're such a WONDERFUL peep, who has obviously momentarily forgotten how very important it is for kitties such as myself to have boxes for International Box Day....

That's a good Peepers.  That's the ticket!  Now you finish emptyin' out that there box, and you'll have my International Box Day box ready before you know it.

Ahhh...  What a box.  This is the PERFECT box, for sure.

Thanks Peepers!  I knew you could do it.  You just needed a little encouragement, is all.

AHHH...

Oh, and Peepers?  Don't forget, I'm not the only cat livin' in this here house. I'm not the only cat whose gonna need a box for the Box Day celebrations tomorrow.  My fur-sibs are all gonna want boxes of their own, too.  You have any more boxes needin' emptyin' out?

What?  MORE litter box jokes?  They weren't funny the first time and they're not funny now.  MOUSES!

that feeling

You ever get that feelin'? You know the one.  That feelin' that someone is watchin' you.  Maybe even starin' at you. Yeah, that's the one.

Well I get that feelin' all the time.  And when I say all the time, I mean, ALL THE TIME.  Why just a couple days ago, my second nap of the afternoon was totally ruined when I sensed that someone was watchin' me.  Starin' at me.  Woke me right up, right there, and right then. MOUSES!

So I opened my eyes and what did I see?  Peep #1.  Figures.  MOUSES!

Yeah, Peep #1 thinks she's entitled to look at me as much as she likes.  She says she can't help it. She says it's my own fault.  She says it's my own fault for bein' so cute, you see.

Well let me tell you somethin':  I CAN'T HELP BEIN' CUTE!  It just comes to me naturally. MOUSES!

But the night before last, I got Peep #1 back.

Oh yeah.

So the peep was lyin' there, sound asleep, when somethin' got her to wake up.  I'm not quite sure what that somethin' was but it might - MIGHT - have had somethin' to do with a certain noise made by a certain marmalade cat.

Anyway...

So the peep was lyin' there, sound asleep.  Then she woke up.  And when she opened her eyes, what did she see?  She saw me.  MOUSES!

There I was, as good as gold...

And when I say I was as good as gold, I quite literally mean as good as gold, on account of my, firstly, bein' very good and secondly, my orange fur bein' golden orange in colour and uh...  um...

Now where was I?  Oh yeah.

Anyway...

So there I was, starin' at the peep.  Just starin' at her. Starin'!  Like she does to me.  MOUSES!

Well apparently, accordin' to the peep, wakin' up to find me starin' at her is unnerving.

NOW SHE KNOWS HOW I FEEL.  MOUSES!

I figure that if a cat can look at a queen, said cat can most certainly look at their peep.

Of course, the jury is still out on whether or not peeps may stare at their cats.

Actually, that's not true.  The jury came back on that one and they decided that it is rude for a peep to stare at a cat without the cat's written permission.  Written.  As in written on paper, and not some stupid rumour or heresay or anythin' else like that.  MOUSES!

And speakin' of stuff that was written...

Way back when, some peep wrote a nursery rhyme statin' that a cat went all the way to London to look at the Queen.  This peep also made mention of mice.  Or a mouse.  One little mouse, I do believe.  One little mouse who was under a chair and since it was the Queen's chair, I'm thinkin' it was actually a throne and...

Hmmm...

Only throne we have at my house is the one in the bathroom and it's not so much a throne as it is a...  Well...  You know...  A toilet.

Plus, no mice live under there.  MOUSES!

But that begs the question...

How come peeps get thrones and cats get litter boxes?  I mean, if a cat can scare a wee little mouse sittin' under the Queen's chair, aka throne, aka toilet, SURELY said cat shouldn't have to do his or her business in a plastic litter box.  After all, I...  uh...  um...

Now where was I again?

Oh yeah.

The thing is, no cat should ever be subjected to a peep starin' at him so much that the starin' wakes said cat up from his afternoon nap.  MOUSES!

litter wars

"Coming through.  Outta my way!  SHOVE OVER."

"Hey!  HEY!  Mason, watch where you're going.  Stop pushing, Mason.  Mason, I was...  Oof!  Ouch!  For mousin' out loud. MOUSES!"

"Ladies first, Seville.  Now let me past."

"What ladies?  Where are the ladies?  Oh, you mean you?"

"Yes I mean me."

"Really?  MOUSES!"

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

Any of you out there with a sister like that? Any of  you mancats have a sister who always insists on gettin' first dibs on the...

What's that, Peepers?  What?  Are you sure, Peepers?  But that was gonna be my topic for today's blog post.  Awww...  MOUSES!

I have been informed that it's not polite of me to tell the whole world 'bout my sister's litter box practices.  Apparently, what happens in the litter box, stays in the litter box.

Well we all know that's not true.

Let me tell you something.  Litter most certainly does not stay in the litter box when my sister Mason is about.  My sister Mason can fling litter like no cat has ever flung litter before.  One minute it's all in the box and the next minute, we have kitty litter raining all over the place.  It's like being in a sand storm or something out in the desert only with the desert being my house and the sand being li....

Mason, watch where you're flinging that stuff.  MOUSES!

No Peepers, I'm not telling the whole world 'bout Mason's litter box habits.  I'm just uh...  um... Never mind, Peepers.  There's nothing to read here.

So like I was saying...

Well let's just say that I was saying that we'll keep this here conversation between ourselves.  The peep does not need to know what I am about to write.  MOUSES!

But to be perfectly honest, it's not the flinging of the litter that I was gonna tell you about, anyway. Mason's flinging of the litter isn't all that big of a deal on account of the litter she flings usually being clean.  Just means the peep has to sweep up a whole lot of litter all of the time, is all.  The really big deal is why the litter is clean.

You see, my sister Mason feels she must always be first in line when it comes to using a litter box. MOUSES!

As many of you know, I live in a multi-cat household. What many of you will have surmised from this is that I live in a multi-litter box household as well and if you did surmise that, you'd be absolutely right.  Yup, we have a number of litter boxes, perpetually on the go.

And when I say perpetually on the go what I really mean is that these multiple litter boxes keep Mason perpetually on the litter box circuit.  The moment any one litter box is freshened up, Mason is right there, ready to do her business, even when she has no business to do.  MOUSES!

It's true.  She'll push and shove her way past any and every cat standing between her and a clean litter box whether she needs to use the facilities or not and most of the time she does not need to use 'em as no cat ever has needed to use that many litter boxes all of the time.  Oh yeah, a kitty would have to have the runs to be on the run like...

Okay...   Okay, I think I'm beginning to see the peep's point about not saying too much about my sister's litter box routine.  I think I may have crossed a line there but...

BUT just the other day, within moments of Peep #1 having refreshed the litter in one box, Mason was pushing past me to get right in there to fling the litter around.  One moment I was lifting a paw, preparing to step inside, and the next moment I was hitting the wall, having been shoved out of Mason's way.

Then came the flinging.  Yup, Mason was flinging litter here and flinging litter there and pretty much flinging litter everywhere only to stop when she heard the unmistakable sound of fresh litter being poured into one of the boxes in the basement.  At that point, she took a flying leap out of the box she was in, kicking out even more litter behind her, so that she could dash downstairs to get first dibs on the next newly cleaned box.

Now before anyone suggests it, this is not a medical thing or anything of the sort.  Mason just feels entitled to every clean litter box in the house.  It's kind of her thing.  MOUSES!

Peep #1 has learned to not clean out too many boxes all at once on account of it getting Mason so frazzled as she tries to dash from one box to the next; not to mention the possible injuries that may be incurred as Mason shoves the rest of us kitties out of her way.

When it comes to a clean litter box, no cat stands in Mason's way.

Once, I even saw Mason leap over my sister Tobias in her pursuit of a clean box.  Yup, just took a giant flying leap, right over her.  To be perfectly honest, I didn't think she had it in her but...  well... Well I guess I was wrong on that account 'cause she did.  MOUSES!

Now the peep may have learned to live with having to constantly sweep up litter but once - just once - I'd like to get first dibs on a box.  I know, more often than not, Mason hasn't really used the box except for having done some flinging of litter but every kitty enjoys a fresh box now and then, with its litter all intact, you know?  Of course you know.  MOUSES!

Sometimes, on a nice day, when Mason is outside sunning herself in the sun, I'll trot into the house and Peep #1 will take that opportunity to freshen up a box, just for me.  You know, make a nice pile of litter right there in the center.  Litter that has never been flung.  A nice high pile that I can get my paws into, feeling the litter between my toes.  Ahhh..  that's a real treat for a mancat like me.

Of course, the peep and I keep this to ourselves.  It's a bit of a secret, you see.  If Mason were to ever find out that the peep has been known to clean out litter boxes when she's not inside to hear 'em being cleaned, Mason would likely never step outside the house again.

Hmmm...  I guess that some things happening in the litter box really do stay in the litter box, after all.  MOUSES!

gone to the dogs

Dogs.  DOGS!  Today's blog post is being brought to you by dogs.  Yup, it has pretty much gone to the dogs, to be sure. MOUSES!

I was sitting here at my desk this morning, minding my own business, when I happened to look out the window and what did I see?  You guessed it, dogs.  Dogs minding - or rather doing - their business, I might add.

Again I must say, MOUSES!

Funny thing 'bout dogs; they sure do have their peeps well trained.  I mean, you see 'em walking their peeps here, there and just about everywhere and that, my friends, is what I wanna blog about today.

Well that and run-on sentences.

Fooled you!  There will be no talk of run-on sentences in this post.  I might use one or two or maybe even three but I'm not gonna talk about them except, of course, for my brief mentioning of them and that, my friends, is for sure. MOUSES!

But let's get back to those dogs.

Ever notice how dogs have to be walked?  Huh?  Ever notice that?

Now personally, I enjoy a nice walkabout, myself, but not when the weather is nasty and stuff.  I like walking about the garden when it's sunny and the temperatures are just right.  Not too cold and not too hot.  Know what I mean?  And although I have been known to go for a walk in the yard when it's snowing, I don't want to go outside when there's a blizzard a-blowing and I certainly don't want to go out in the rain.  Rain is just...  well...  icky.  MOUSES!

But dogs have to go outside for walks, no matter what the weather.  Whether it's cold or suffocatingly hot or snowing or pouring or blowing up a storm, when you're a dog, you need to go outside for your walks.  That kind of sucks if you ask me.  MOUSES!

And it's not just the dogs, either.  The peeps have to go out walking 'em, too.

I've heard some peeps say they like walking their dogs 'cause it keeps them healthy and stuff.  I can see that.  Kind of.

Yup, I can kind of see how having to walk a dog might give a peep a reason to go out walking but when you think about it, peeps can go out walking pretty much any time they like so technically speaking, they don't have to have a dog in order to take a walk.  I mean, if it's exercise they're after, peeps can simply go do their exercising without any dog being required.

You don't need a dog in order to exercise.

Never once have I heard a peep say, Boy-oh-boy, I'm the luckiest peep around 'cause my car broke down last week and now I have to walk to work and the grocery store and to my doctor's appointments and when going on dates so really, because I've been forced to leave the car sitting in the driveway while I walk just about everywhere, I'm the healthiest person around.

Of course, there was that guy from Canada Post who claimed senior citizen peeps WANTED to walk on slippery sidewalks in the dead of winter to struggle through drifts of snow to pick up their mail at one of those gigantic super-sized mail boxes because those senior peeps wanted to get out and get more exercise.  Yeah, there was that guy.  Of course, I'm not sure he was walking along those same streets. Nah, he probably drove his car.

Need I say it?  Sure, why not? MOUSES!

But once again, let's get back to those dogs.

This is not an anti-dog post.  No sirree, I'm not an anti-dog kind of cat.  This here post is actually pro-dog.  Or rather, for the dogs, so to speak...  type...  whatever.

This here post is about a newly invented invention of mine.  Well technically speaking, I haven't actually invented it yet.  I'm still in the planning stages and whatnot but once I have a working prototype, I'm planning on presenting it on that television show where cats and peeps present their business ideas to these financial bigwigs and get money to make 'em happen and stuff.

Well actually...  if I'm gonna be really technical...  so far...

So far there haven't been any cats appearing on the Dragon's Den.  Nope, so far only peeps but I figure there's a first time for everything so why shouldn't I be the first cat to appear on that show, ready to start up a business and stuff?  Huh?  Why not?  MOUSES!

And when you're a cat like me with such a great idea as mine...

Well I think the Dragon's Den is the PURRfect fit and will be lucky to have me, to be sure. MOUSES!

So here's what I'm thinking...

You take a big plastic box, kind of like a litter box but bigger in size.  Four by four feet should do nicely but unlike a kitty litter box, it will have lower sides.  Yeah, only an inch or so of rim is necessary as no litter is required because as we all know, doggies don't like to bury their...  uh... you-know-whats as do we cats.  And in the middle of the box, will be a fire hydrant for the peeing station and below that, some sort of catch-all for the uh...  liquids.  And next to the box will sit a box of poop bags and disinfectant wipes, for easy clean-up.

But that's not the whole thing!  Oh no, the litter box part of the the litter box sits next to a circular wheel - pardon the redundancy - that is wide enough for a dog and a peep to walk, side-by-side. Just like they make 'em for gerbils and whatnot only bigger on account of the dogs and the peeps who will be using them, instead.

The beauty of my indoor doggy toilets - which is my working name for now - is that dogs and peeps can still get their exercise and do their daily constitutionals but they can do so, from the comfort of inside their own home. No rain or snow to contend with.  No icy cold winds. No cars madly beeping their horns.  No mailmen yelling when you chase 'em.  None of that nasty stuff at all!

What's more, my indoor doggy toilets will answer the age-old question of who let the dogs out?  The answer, of course, will be no one for no one need let the dogs out if said dogs are doing their business indoors.  MOUSES!

When you think about it, it's pure genius, really.  Yup, pure genius for sure.  Just goes to show you, it takes a cat to invent an indoor doggy toilet with walking wheel accessory, to be sure.  MOUSES!

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

And speaking of litter boxes, the peeps are still waiting on that permit from the Department of Environment for The Big Dig to begin in my backyard but we heard today that the permit has been processed and issued so that's some good news, for sure.