built-in straight jacket

It's not fair, I tell you.  It's not fair!

PEEPERS!  IT ISN'T FAIR!!!

*sighs*

I'm tellin' ya, it's simply not fair.

*sighs again, this time louder*

Peepers, it's like this.  Yesterday...

I think it was yesterday, but on the other paw, it could have been the day before.  On the OTHER paw - after all, I do have four paws - it could have been both yesterday and the day before.  Or...

Yeah, yeah...  I'm gettin' to my point.  Hold on to your horses there, Peepers.

MOUSES!

So it's like this.  One day in the recent past...

Yeah, that sounds good.

One day in recent past, Rushy came after me like a bat out of double hockey sticks, and...

What?

Oh, that.

To tell you the truth, my bats out of h e double hockey sticks comment did sound better in my head before I actually said it out loud.

MOUSES!

But anyway, the other day, Rushy came after me out on the deck, and he cornered me over there in that corner.  See the corner over there?  You know, that corner.  That corner out on the deck.  And then...

Well that's when you intervened, Peepers.  And by the way, thanks for doin' that.  I appreciate it a lot.

MOUSES!

But back to this business that isn't fair.

The thing is...

The thing is, I can't fight back.  Rushy KNOWS he has an advantage.  He knows he has an advantage and he takes full advantage of it, too.

He knows...

I'M GETTIN' TO THAT!

For mousin' out loud, woman.  Have some patience.

MOUSES!

The thing is, Rushy knows that I know that if he takes a swipe at me, it's gonna hurt.  Been there; done that; all I need now is the t-shirt.

MOUSES!

But Rushy also knows that I know that if I take a swipe at him, all I get is a paw full of fur.  You know, on account of that freakishly thick coat of his.  He doesn't feel my swiping at him one bit!

Seriously, it's like he's wearin' a built-in straight jacket or somethin', and...

What's that, Peepers?  What did you say?

No...  No.  Nope, straight jacket is what I meant to say, for sure.

If the paw fits....

MOUSES!

So the thing is, due to my luxurious but PERFECTLY NORMAL thickness of fur, I'm at an unfair advantage when it comes to that Rushy, so I was thinkin'...

I was thinkin'....

Peepers, I was thinkin', how do you feel 'bout shavin' off all of Rushy's fur?

What?

WHY NOT?

Gosh darn it, IT JUST ISN'T FAIR.

MOUSES!

the orange fur

Hey Andy!  What's with the big pile of orange fur on the dinin' room floor?  You know anythin' about that?

I don't know why it's there, Andy.  That's why I'm askin' you.  It looks like you gave birth to a freaky long-haired marmie kitten or somethin'.

Hmmm...  You DIDN'T DO that, did you Andy?  Give birth to a kitten?  I mean, I have enough troubles dealin' with two long-haired marmie freak brothers as it is.  Last thing I need, is a long-haired marmie freak nephew, too.  MOUSES!

Yeah, yeah...  I know you're a boy.  And yeah, yeah...  I know boys don't have kittens.  BUT I ALSO KNOW you're a long-haired marmie FREAK, so...  So who knows if you can have kittens or not.  MOUSES!

Oh yeah, you've already been neutered.  Whew.

So anyway...  What IS with the big pile of orange fur on the dinin' room floor?  You sure you didn't have anythin' to do with that?

You didn't, huh?

Hmmm...

Hey Rushy!  What's with the big pile of orange fur on the dinin' room floor?  You know anythin' about that?

She is?

Really?

And you're  her allowin' her to do that?

MOUSES!

What's wrong with lettin' the peep give you a lion cut, you ask?

ARE YOU MAD?

I'll tell you what's wrong with that.

First of all, the peep knows NOTHIN' about givin' cats haircuts.  Mouses man, she doesn't even cut her own hair!  And you're allowin' her to cut YOURS?

And second of all...

Wait a minute.  Just wait a mousie mousin' mouses minute.  Rushy, there's a BIG PILE of orange fur on the dinin' room floor, and you SAY that the peep has been cuttin' your fur.  But...  Turn around, Rushy.  Do a little spin.  Just as I thought.  Rushy, where did all that fur come from?  You don't appear to be missin' any at all.

Seriously?

You mean to say that ALL THAT FUR came from that wee little spot there on your side?

Really?

REALLY?

Mouses Rushy, you really are a freak.

Huh, I appear to be at a loss for words.  Who would have thought it possible.

MOUSES!

Okay, I have some words now.  Rushy, when Andy got his lion cut a couple years ago, he had to have it professionally done.  As in bein' done by a professional.  You know, like someone who knows what they're doin'.  But instead of that, you're allowin' the peep to do yours?

Peep cheap out on you or somethin'?  That why she's doin' it herself?  She's too cheap to pay someone to do it properly?

'Cause let me tell you somethin', Andy.  Judgin' by the speed at which she's goin', she's gonna be givin' you that lion cut for several weeks to come.  I mean, by the time she's finished, it'll be time to start all over again.

MOUSES!

And how come you're gettin' a lion cut, anyway?  Did you ASK her to shave off your fur?

Oh yeah.  I forgot.  You wouldn't let the peep comb out the mats when they were small, and now they're out of control.

Well Rushton, that's what happens when you're a freak.

MOUSES!

Yeah, yeah...   Peep #1 told me to stop callin' you and Andy freaks.  But Peep #1 has told me a lot of things, Rushy.  What can I say?  I don't pay any attention to her when she talks nonsense like that.  MOUSES!

Plus...

Well Rushy, let me ask you this.  You're allowin' Peep #1 to give you a haircut, right?  You're ALLOWIN' her to do that.  ALLOWING.  As in... As in lettin' her do it?

Yeah, well in my books, that makes you a freak.

MOUSES!

So anyway...  What's it like, Rushy?  What's it like havin' the peep give you the feline equivalent of a human kid bowl cut?

It is?

Really?

You DO?

REALLY?

You LIKE the peep groomin' you with the electric groomer?

IT FEELS GOOD?

Well gosh darn it, now I wanna let the peep give ME a haircut, too.

MOUSES!

bad hair day

Whoa.

WHOA!

What the mouses happened to YOU?  You havin' a bad hair day or somethin', Andy?

And for your information, that was a rhetorical question, for sure.

MOUSES!

Ugh.  There are some things a kitty can never unsee.

MOUSES!

So anyway...  

So anyway, what did happen?  You stick your paw in an electrical outlet again?

I shouldn't have to tell you this Andy - I really shouldn't - but stickin' your paws in electrical outlets is NEVER a good idea.

MOUSES!

Ahhh...  It's a comb over, you say.

What?

AHHH...  It was the COMB, you say.

You sure 'bout that?  'Cause uh...

'Cause Andy, that's just weird.  Combs don't make cats' fur look like yours looks right now.

At least they're not supposed to.

MOUSES!

You know Andy, I love a good combin' as much as the next cat, and Peep #1 combs me all the time.  My head, my back, my tummy...  Everythin'.  But my fur NEVER, EVER looks like...

Like...

Like THAT.  You know, like what your fur is lookin' like right now.  All orange wispiness and stuff, lookin' like it's blowin' around in a hurricane gale force wind.

Although seriously Andy, I've gotta paw it to you bro, it takes a lot of talent to get your fur lookin' like it's blowin' about in the wind, without there actually bein' any wind blowin' it about.

Not to mention a lot of courage to appear that way in public.

MOUSES!

But uh...  How did you do that, anyway?

Never mind.  It's not somethin' I really need to know.

MOUSES!

Okay, fine.  I DO need to know.  Andy, how come your fur is all...

All...

All poofy and stuff.    All poofy and wispy and lookin' like it's about to fly off into the sunset or somethin'.

And are you SURE you didn't stick your paw into an electrical outlet, Andy?  'Cause had you done so, it would really explain a lot.

It would REALLY explain a LOT.

You don't say.

You DO say.

You say that the peep says you have fly away fur, because with it bein' winter and all, and our havin' the heat on in the house, the air is incredibly dry, and the friction created when she was combing you caused an electrostatic charge to accumulate on the surface of your fur and...

I knew this had somethin' to with electricity and stuff.

MOUSES!

You know Andy, Peep #1 has been known to make stuff up.  Known to just say whatever pops into her silly little head.  All to make herself look good.

Or in this case, to make herself look not bad.

You sure she's not doin' that right now?  Are you sure she's not makin' up some flimsy excuse?  'Cause seriously, bro, this blamin'-of-the-comb business sounds a whole lot like nonsensical nonsense to me.

You think she's tellin' the truth, huh?  You really do?  Huh.

Well then...

Then basically...

Basically what you're sayin' is...

THE PEEP WENT AND MADE YOUR FUR LOOK ALL FUNNY.

HOW SHOCKING.

MOUSES!

birds of a feather

Birds of a feather...

THEY BE FLOCKIN' TOGETHER.

MOUSES!

And when you think about it, they're not unlike those two freaky long-haired marmie brothers of mine.  You know the ones: Rushton and Andy.

Yeah, those two are always hangin' out together.  If you see one, the other is never far behind.

Behind?  What am I sayin'?  More likely, they'll be side by side.  Side by side, schemin' and plottin' and conspirin' together.  Probably against me.  Those two are in cahoots, you see.

MOUSES!

Of course, their constant hangin' out together does have its advantages.

Firstly, if I know where one is, I almost always know where the other is, too.  It's actually easier to avoid long-haired freaky brothers when there's only the one GROUPING, so to speak, to avoid.

And secondly, if I feel the desire to smacky-paw one, I can smacky-paw the other at the very same time.  Often with the very same smacky-paw, too!  Kinda like killin' two birds with one stone.

Not that I, Seville the Cat, would ever kill a bird with a stone!  Personally, I don't kill birdies, period.  Killin' birdies does not bode well for the local channels of Bird TV.

And speakin' of birds...

Those birdies be flockin' TOGETHER, for sure.

Now I don't know what kinda birds they are, but there must be at least a MILLION of 'em.

Okay, so maybe not a million.  Probably more like a couple hundred thousand.

Okay, so maybe not a couple hundred thousand.  Maybe more like 'bout ten thousand.

Okay, so maybe not ten thousand.  Now that I think about it...   Well...  Well it's probably more like fifty or so.  Yeah, that sounds about right.

But it's the BIGGEST flock of fifty birdies, for sure.  Biggest fifty bird sized flock, EVER.  It's HUGE!  It's...

Okay, so it's like a few dozen birds.

MOUSES!

But you should see 'em, my friends.  They've been performin' on the local Bird TV network for the last couple weeks.

Peep #1 puts out some bird food and the next thing you know, they're there, perchin' on all the trees, waitin' for the peep to go away so that they can come down and eat.  It's really quite the sight to see.

They're not too talkative, though.  More interested in eatin', I do believe.

And speakin' of eatin'...

A kitty should NEVER confuse Bird TV with a TV dinner.  They are NOT the same thing, at all.

MOUSES!

Not that I, Seville the Cat, would ever confuse the two.  Like I said earlier, I'm not into the killin' of birdies.

Not even mocking birds.

MOUSES!

Hmmm...  But if we're talking 'bout turkeys...

But that doesn't count, for the turkey I eat comes out of a tin, and tinned turkey is decidedly different, somehow.

I'm not even sure it's a bird.  It sure doesn't look like one.

MOUSES!

Plus, tinned turkey is my favourite, and there's no way, no how, I'm gonna stop eatin' my favourite din-dins.  I CERTAINLY couldn't stop cold turkey and that is for sure.

MOUSES!

But seriously, I do believe, it is safe to say that those birdies flocking to my yard are safe and sound from me.

But from those two freaky long-haired brothers of mine...

Okay, so they don't kill birds, either.  'Cause you know, it's kinda hard for a turkey-sized cat to catch a lithe little birdie.  By the time they caught up with one, they'd be all outta breath!

MOUSES!

Well...  Perhaps I'm exaggeratin' a bit.  I must admit, my freaky brothers are actually very agile for their size.  They're pretty quick, too.  They're both Olympic champions when it comes to sprinting for treats.

MOUSES!

Nah, even if we could, we cats would never kill any of the Bird TV cast.  Not even for ratings!  We cats are civilised creatures.  We don't live in some kinda disreputable weird and surreal, reality television world.

Besides, although we like our food fresh, those birdies are just a little TOO fresh, if you know what I mean.

And speakin' of fresh...

Oh my mouses, you shoulda heard the lip that Blue Jay gave the peep when she slept in the other mornin' and was late with his food.

MOUSES!

right in the keister

So there I was sittin' in the kitchen, waitin' for some treats, when...

When I happened to see my brother, Rushton, walkin' past my other brother, Andy.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', what's the big deal about that?

Well...

Well for starters, when Rushton walked past Andy, Andy gave him a smacky paw, right in the keister.

MOUSES!

Now seriously folks, I wouldn't be puttin' my paws anywhere near that long-haired marmie freak of a brother of mine's keister, for one never really knows where his keister may have recently been.

MOUSES!

But Andy, bein' Andy, can't resist smacky-pawin' anyone as they walk past.  Sometimes he gets you in the leg.  Sometimes the side.  And SOMETIMES, the keister.

MOUSES!

Well the next thing was, Rushy was rushin' over to me, complainin' about Andy.  "Did you see that?  Did you see what he did?  Did you see..."

I held up a paw in protest.  In protest of my havin' to listen to his complaints, that is.  "I, Seville the Cat, saw exactly what Anderson did," I told him.  "But to tell you the truth, Rushy, what one long-haired marmie freak of a brother does to another long-haired marmie freak of a brother, is of no interest to me.  MOUSES!"

"But, but, but..." Rushy began.

"But he got you in the BUTT, for sure," and I rolled on the floor, laughin'.

Seein' a pout beginnin' to form on my brother Rushton's face, I added, "But seriously, Rushy, it's not like you don't have protective paddin'.  Andy couldn't have hurt you.  I'm surprised you felt it at all.  MOUSES!"

'Is that some kind of fat joke?" Rushton asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Not at all, mon frere.  I am simply statin' the truth.  You have...  Well...  Well you have ample paddin', to be sure.  MOUSES!"

"Peep #1 says I'm just big boned," said Rushy, stampin' a paw.  "Plus, I do have a whole lot of floof."

I shook my head in dismay.  "Rushy, Rushy, Rushy...  You weigh in at twenty pounds.  There's no way that can all be accounted for by floof.  MOUSES!"

Rushton sat on his butt - or should I say, keister - and gave me the look a two-year-old child gives his mother immediately prior to startin' a tantrum.  "Don't complain to me," I told my long-haired marmie freak of a brother.  "Not my fault Andy can't keep his paws to himself.  Had I walked past him, he woulda smacky-pawed me in the keister, too.  MOUSES!"





Rushton looked slightly cheered up by my little pep talk, so I continued.

"Of course, I woulda felt it more, for my keister isn't as well padded as yours.  MOUSES!"

Well that did it.  No sooner had I uttered that last statement, Rushy was up and about, threatenin' to smacky-paw ME!"

"Don't you get any ideas, you long-haired marmie freak of a brother of mine.  I'm not the one who smacked you in the butt.  You wanna get back at someone for that, you need to get back at the smacky-pawer himself, and that, mon bizarre confiture frere, would be Andy.   MOUSES!"

Rushton sat back down for a moment, and mulled over what I had said.

Twenty. Minutes. Later...

Twenty minutes later, he had figured it out.  "You're absolutely right, Seville.  If I wanna get back at Andy for smackin' me, I need to deal with Andy himself."

"You got that right."

"I most certainly do!  And do you know what I'm gonna do about it?" my brother asked.

Takin' a wild guess, I said, "Uh...  Go talk to Andy, perhaps?"

"That's an even BETTER idea than what I was thinkin'," and Rushton squealed with delight.

Goodness knows what Rushy's original idea had been.  MOUSES!

I looked at my brother, just sittin' there, not makin' a move.  "Well uh...  If you're gonna go talk to Andy, you're gonna have to get up off that butt of yours, and approach him."


"Good plan there, Sivvers," and Rushy was up and crossin' the room.

Now what happened next was not unexpected.  Certainly not surprisin', in the least.

Rushton decided it would be best for him to talk to Andy, face to face, I suppose.  And as Andy had his back to Rushy, Rushy walked past him, plannin' to spin 'round in order to talk, but...

But just as Rushy walked past...

Andy smacky-pawed him right in the keister.

MOUSES!

got a minute?

Hey Peepers!  You got a second?

Scratch that.

Hey Peepers!  Gotta minute?

Hmmm...  Scratch that, too.

Hey Peepers!  You have an hour or so, or...

WHO AM I KIDDIN'?  This is gonna take all afternoon, for sure.  MOUSES!

So Peepers, the reason I was wonderin' if you had some time for me, was...

Well...

WELL...

Well Peepers, we need to talk.

SERIOUSLY.

MOUSES!

About what must we talk, you ask?

WHERE DO I BEGIN?

So like I was tellin' Mason the other day, we're gonna have to do something 'bout those two freakishly long-haired marmie brothers of mine.

You didn't hear what they did?

Really?

YOU DIDN'T HEAR THEM DOIN' WHAT THEY DID?

REALLY?

For mousin' out loud, a kitty accidentally knocks a couple pieces of cutlery off the kitchen counter, and you hear that.

It was TOO by accident.

Oh.  Well no.  No, my jumpin' up onto the kitchen counter in the first place WASN'T by accident, but you're splittin' hairs there, Peepers.  You're SPLITTIN' hairs!

And speakin' of split hairs, I happened to notice you have a few split ends there, Peepers.  You might wanna make an appointment with the groomer or somethin'.  MOUSES!

But like I was tellin' Mason, you and I need to have a little talk about those two freakishly long-haired marmie brothers of mine.

No.  No, I don't know.  I don't know whether or not they have split ends, but hey, if you wanna make appointments for them at the groomer too, you could all go in to have your hair done together.  MOUSES!

But the thing is, Peepers, those two freaky long-haired marmie brothers of mine are gettin' into mischief like no kitties have ever gotten into mischief before, and...

What?  Well no.  No, THEY were not the kitties who were jumpin' up onto the kitchen counter the other day, but...

BUT YOU'RE GETTIN' OFF TOPIC THERE, PEEPERS.  The topic at paw is how Andy and Rushy are causin' trouble.  How THEY'RE gettin' into mischief.  How they're bein' naughty.  The topic at paw has NOTHIN' to do with any trouble I've been causin'.

If I WERE causing trouble, that is.

Which I'm not.

At all. 

I don't think.

MOUSES!

'Cause you know, Peepers, Christmas is closer than you might be realizin'.  It's gettin' closer by the day!  And I've always found, it's best for a kitty to be on his best behaviour in the weeks immediately preceedin' Christmas, and...

AND YOU MIGHT WANNA MENTION THAT TO THOSE TWO FREAKY LONG-HAIRED BROTHERS OF MINE, 'CAUSE...

'CAUSE WE DON'T WANT SANTA TO BOYCOTT OUR HOUSE ON ACCOUNT OF THEIR NAUGHTY BEHAVIOUR.

If Santa is gonna boycott our house on account of anyone's naughty behaviour, it's gonna be mine.

If I WERE bein' naughty, that is.

Which I'm not.

At all.

I don't think.

MOUSES!

Basically, Peepers, that's all I needed to talk to you about.

So uh...

So what are you plannin' to do about it?  Huh?  HUH?  What are you...

NEVER YOU MIND WHAT I WAS DOIN' UP ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER THE OTHER DAY.  Rest assured, there must have been somethin' up there needin' to be done.

And when doin' stuff that NEEDS to be done, doin' it is never naughty.

I don't think.

MOUSES!

do I have to?

Do I have to?

Really?

REALLY?

Do I really, really have to?

Like as in...  Uh....  Really?

Awww...  MOUSES!

But Peepers, are you sure?

Are you sure as in...  Sure?

Are you really, really sure?

You are, huh?

Hmmm...  MOUSES!

Now Peepers, are you sure you're sure?  Are you absolutely, positively sure that you really are, in fact, sure?  Or do you think you could be wrong about bein' sure?  Do you think you might be wrong 'bout bein' right, and that I might be right 'bout your bein' wrong?  Do you think that could be what's goin' on?

Really?  'Cause you know, it's not like that hasn't happened before.

Has, too.

HAS, TOO.

HAS...

Peepers, you know, it's really not nice to say stuff like that.  Let me go get some soap for you to wash out your mouth, and...

FINE.

MOUSES!

But Peepers...

Peepers, really and truly, I really do think you're wrong.  And I really do think I'm right.  I really do think...

No, Peepers, Christmas is a whole seventy-eight days away.  Santa hasn't even started compiling his naughty list yet, so there's no way I'm in any kind of danger of gettin' on that list.  Not that I'm doin' anythin' to get myself on it in the first place.  But even if I were, doin' somethin' naughty, that is, it's too early to make the list.

I do so know!  I KNOW FOR A FACT, cats can be mischievous and naughty right up 'til November 24th.  Fact is, just last year, I was doin' exactly that.  I was bein' naughty right up 'til thirty days before Christmas last year, and not one of the naughty things I did got me on Santa's list.  Facts are facts, Peepers.  You can't argue with that.  Well you can, but it would be stupid.  MOUSES!

What?  What's that?  What exactly was I doin' that was so naughty?

Uhhh...  Never mind.  Nothin' for you to worry 'bout at all.

MOUSES!

But none of that even matters, Peepers, on account of my not bein' naughty right now.  Actually, YOU'RE the one bein' naughty, by disagreeing with me.  Tellin' me I'm wrong, and insistin' you're right, and...

'Cause you are wrong, that's why.

Peepers, let me explain this once more.  When a kitty is listin' the things for which said kitty is thankful, on Thanksgivin', it is absolutely wrong for that kitty to lie about those things.

Yes Peepers, even if lyin' is the polite thing to do, it's still wrong to lie.  'Cause lyin' is wrong, and it can never be right.

And that, Peepers, is why I don't think I should be tellin' all the world and sundry - although goodness knows who this Sundry person is, 'cause I've never actually met him, you know - that I'm thankful for havin' two long-haired marmie freak brothers, 'cause, as you know, I'm not thankful for havin' them at all.  And what's more, I have a multitude of reasons for not bein' thankful 'bout havin' those two freakishly long-haired marmie brothers, too.  I can list my reasons, for you.  Let tell you the things they do:

They steal my food;  They bat at my tail;  They think nothin' of usin' MY litter box;  They eat more than their fair share of treats;  They fart in my face if they manage to get their paws on cream.  They...

Oh yeah?  Well let me ask you this, Peepers.  Are YOU thankful when they fart in YOUR face?

Thought not.

MOUSES!

But you're thankful they came to live with us, anyway?

Really?

REALLY?

And are you thankful I came to live with you, too?

Never mind.  That goes without sayin'.  OF COURSE you're thankful for me.

You are.  Right?  You are thankful I chose this house in which to live.

Whew!

But on the other paw...

Maybe...

Maybe I can be thankful for those two long-haired marmie freak brothers of mine, Peepers.  After all, they're way naughtier than me.  In fact, they're so naughty, they make me look like an angel by comparison.  And actually, that IS somethin' for which to be thankful, for sure.  Especially after the twenty-fourth of November.

Okay, Peepers, I can honestly say this.  I can honestly say, I am thankful I have two long-haired marmie freak brothers who, by bein' bad, make me look super good.

Hmmm...

Thank you Peepers.  Thank you for helpin' me.  Thanks for helpin' me put things about bein' thankful, into perspective.

And Happy Thanksgiving, Peepers.  In fact, HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO EVERYONE!  Purrs.

the retraction

OH MY MOUSES!  Get a grip woman, would ya? You'd think you were one of those Real Housewives of Beverly Hills or somethin'.  Now those women have REAL troubles, for sure. MOUSES!

I mean, if you can bicker over somethin' someone once did to you ages and ages ago -  for an entire evenin' - whatever that somethin' someone once did, it must have been pretty moused up, if you ask me.  MOUSES!

And speakin' of moused-up troubles, have you met my long-haired marmie brothers?

You know, I should have my own television show.  One of my very own.  Seriously, I should, 'cause I can bicker with the best of 'em, for sure.

I can do a pretty good smacky paw, too.

And speakin' of smacky-paws, have you met my long-haired marmie brothers?

Why just the other day, one of those long-haired marmie brothers of mine...

What's that, Andy?  Oh yeah...  You're right.  Sorry 'bout that.

Hey, what can I say?  Even a broken clock is right at least once a day.

But by broken clocks, I am not talkin' about me.  No sirree.  Nothing 'bout me is broken. MOUSES!

However, I will retract my last statement.  Yup, I will make a full retraction, forthwith.

Regardin' my insinuation that recent smacky-paw events occurring at my house involved my long-haired marmie brothers...  Well, they didn't.  I am hereby retractin' that statement, and issuing an apology to both Anderson and Rushton.  As I was reminded, about five minutes ago, said smacky-paw events were actually between myself and my sister Mason.  MOUSES!

What are you blatherin' on about now, Andy?  I apologised.  Are you satisfied with nothin'?

Nope, that there retraction on my blog is gonna have to do it.  It's not like I tweeted out the mistake to all and sundry on Twitter.  MOUSES!

Sundry.  Sundry.

It's an alternative spellin' for Sunday.

Kinda.  Sort of.  Okay, maybe not.  MOUSES!

Now where was I?

Oh yeah, I was talkin' about the smacky-paws.  The other day, I smacked my sister Mason real good, for sure.

Darn it.  I need to print another retraction.

Regardin' my last statement, what I should have said was, I smacked my sister Mason really well, for sure.

Whew!  That was close.  I could already hear the Grammar Police sirens off in the distance.

But back to those smacky-paws.  SHE STARTED IT!!!  'Nough said.  MOUSES!

What's that, Andy?  Why did Mason smacky-paw me in the first place, you ask?

Well...  Uh...  Actually...

Actually, I kinda think she was smackin' me back.

Pardon me, Andy?  Why did I smacky-paw Mason, causin' her to smacky-paw me back, you ask?

Well...  Uh...  Actually...

Let me get back to you 'bout that.

Oh yeah!  NOW I remember.  Mason made a comment 'bout me that I didn't like.  She did. Something 'bout my LORDIN' MY BLOG over the rest of you cats.  So I smacked her real good, for sure.

MOUSES!  Again, I meant, I smacked her really well, for sure.

That's better.  Another close call with those darned Grammar Police.  Next thing I know, I'll have the Merriam-Webster Dictionary on my tail.  MOUSES!

Say that again, Andy?  What does my lordin' my blog over the rest of you cats mean, you ask?

Well...  You know how I...

Um...  Never mind.  You don't need to know 'bout that.

But now that I think about it, I don't think Mason was the one who came up with the comment 'bout my lordin' my blog over the rest of you cats.  Truth be told, I think she was just repeatin' somethin' someone else said.  Somethin' someone with long-haired marmie-coloured fur said.

SMACK!!!

But on the other paw, now that I think about it a little more, maybe Mason was actually repeatin' somethin' the peep said.  Yeah, that was it.  Mason told me she heard Peep #1 say' somethin' about my lordin' my blog over the rest of you cats.

Hmmm...  But I can't smack a peep. That would be like bitin' the paw that feeds you and all that.  But I'm really, really, REALLY feelin' the urge to give someone a right good smack.   HMMM...

SMACK!!!

Sorry 'bout that Andy.  That was an alternative smack.  MOUSES!