to sit on, of course

I need a throne, Peepers.  I'm definitely in need of a throne.

Why to sit on, of course.  Why do you think?

Oh never mind.  Don't bother answerin'.

'Cause your answer is likely to be stupid, that's why.

Most of 'em are.

MOUSES!

But back to the business at paw.  Peepers, I am most definitely in need of a throne.

MOUSES!

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

I already told you.  To sit on.  I need a throne to sit upon.  That's what thrones are for, you know.  Thrones are for providin' cats places to sit.

I swear, sometimes I think my peeps know absolutely nothin'.

MOUSES!

What?  Why?  Why do I need a throne for sittin'?

'CAUSE MY CROWN MIGHT FALL OFF IF I'M MOVIN' ABOUT.

By gosh and by golly, Peepers.  It's like I have to explain EVERYTHIN' to you.

MOUSES!

Okay, I shall endeavour to explain further.  When I'm wearin' my crown, Peepers, I need to sit still.  'Cause if a kitty goes runnin' around here, there, and everywhere whilst wearin' his crown, said crown is likely to fall off.  It's not like crowns are glued to your head, you know.  There's a balancin' act that has to be done.

So whilst wearin' my crown, I need a nice solid gold throne in order to sit down.

Okay, so it doesn't have to be solid gold.  Gold platin' should do.

What?

Fine.  Gold paint is okay.

I suppose.

But it definitely needs a soft, plush velvet cushion.  Royal blue.  Or emerald green.  You know, somethin' that enhances my gorgeous marmalade furs, and...

What?

IT HAS TO BE COMFY.  It has to be comfy so that I can sit on my throne for long periods of time.  And pose and look all regal and stuff whilst wearin' my crown which, by the way, really does need to be solid gold.  Gold as in gold.  As in real.  Real gold.  Not cheap, tacky ol' stuff.

And definitely not simply paint.

And...

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

Oh.

That.

Hmmm....

Okay, so perhaps I forgot to mention this earlier: I need a crown, Peepers.  I'm definitely in need of a solid gold crown.

'CAUSE IT'S IN KEEPIN' WITH MY IMAGE, YOU SEE.  I should be treated like royalty.  And if a kitty wants to be treated like royalty, a kitty needs to look the part.  King of the Jungle, and all that, and...

What?

KING OF THE GARDEN THEN.

Garden...  Jungle of weeds...  Whatever.

MOUSES!

But back to this crown.  Peepers, I'm not quite sure where one orders such things but perhaps you can figure it out.

I mean, you must be good for somethin'.

Right?

Probably.

I suppose.

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.

another day

Another day, another hurricane.

*sighs*

MOUSES!

Okay, so Philippe wasn't actually a hurricane.  I don't think.  Nope, I think it was more of a post-tropical storm.  But you'll have to forgive me if I don't have the correct technical mumbo jumbo, gobbledygook dygook-da-wonkdadonk, on account of it bein' hard to keep track of all these stormy things, these days.

'Specially with the Weather Network still recoverin' from that ol' cyber attack, and all.

MOUSES!

But Philippe was a storm.  And it was headin' our way.   And it was headin' for us right on the holiday weekend!

Which brings me to say...

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, MY FRIENDS!

MOUSES!

And as you all know, Thanksgivin' is the time when we cats take stock of our nine lives, figurin' out for what we're most thankful.

Hmm...

I suppose what I should be most thankful for on this Thanksgivin' Weekend is that Philippe didn't do any damage 'round here.  Nope, didn't do any damage, at all.

Oh sure, there WAS a whole lotta huffin' and puffin' goin' on last night, but...

No, not the peep. It wasn't Peepers doin' that.   I know that she has been known to huff and to puff a lot but last night, the huffin' and puffin' was all bein' done by Philippe.

MOUSES!

But anyway...

But anyway, on account of Philippe, the wind was a-howlin' last night.  And I know it must have rained a bit, on account of everythin' bein' kinda soggy this mornin'.  But other than that, everythin' was hunky-dory and A-OK.

And thank goodness for that 'cause like I kinda alluded to earlier, I'm pretty tired of all these stupid ol' storms headin' my way.

MOUSES!

But this is Thanksgivin' weekend, and the veggie faces...

Pardon me?  Veggie faces.  Yeah, that's what I now call the peeps.  Not all the time, mind you, but this mornin' I woke up thinkin' that would be a good name.

So anyway, the veggie faces are havin' VE-GE-TARIAN turkey for din-dins today - you know, on account of their bein' veggie-faced peeps, and all - while Saffy and I will be enjoyin' the fanciest of the feasts.

Like always, I guess.

MOUSES!

Although I did hear tell of  pie with whipped cream...

Mmmm...

So yeah, methinks Saffy and I will DEFINITELY have some of that.

Minus the pie, of course, on account of our most favourite part bein' the cream.

MOUSES!

And I suspect there will be a whole lotta lovin' and cuddles and kisses and tummy rub kinda things.

But on the other paw...

On the other paw, perhaps I can convince Peepers that for Thanksgivin' weekend, it sure would be nice if I, Seville the Cat, could say I am thankful for peeps givin' Saffy and me fewer kisses on the tops of our heads and the backs of our necks.

'Cause let me tell you somethin', my friends...

IT'S NEXT TO IMPOSSIBLE FOR US CATS TO WASH ALL THOSE KISSY PEEP GERMS OFF THE BACKS OF OUR NECKS!

You know, you'd really think peeps would try to be more considerate 'bout such things.

ESPECIALLY ON THANKSGIVIN' WEEKEND.

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.

peter piper

Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peepers.

Scratch that.  There's no such thing as a pickled peep.

Unless, of course, said peep were to be high on the nip.

MOUSES!

Nope, I think it was peppers.  Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled PEPPERS.

Yup, that sounds way better, for sure.

MOUSES!

On the other paw...

On the other paw, what's a cat like me gonna do with a peck of pickled peppers?  A peep, pickled or not, is of far more use than peppers.  After all, peeps have opposeable thumbs whereas peppers don't have any thumbs, at all.

I don't think.

MOUSES!

But anyway...

But anyway, I don't know who this Peter guy is and I don't particularly care why he was pickin' some peppers.  In fact, like I implied earlier, I don't care 'bout peppers at all.  I don't even care 'bout the pots of peppers Peepers has growin'.  I mean, they're peepers!  What the mouses is a cat gonna do with peppers?  They're...  They're...  They're...  THEY'RE PEPPERS!

MOUSES!

But do you know what I do care about, my friends?  Do you know what I really, really care about a lot?

NIP.

Yup, I care very much about the nip.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of catnip...

And speakin' of catnip, I was out and about the other day, inspectin' my pots of the nip.  Checkin' in on 'em.  Makin' sure they were healthy.  Lookin' for signs of distress.  You know, that sorta thing.

And while I was checkin' on my pots of catnip, what did I find?

Well...

Well I found a certain butt-sized indentation right in the midst of one of my pots of the nip.

MOUSES!

My first thought was, of course, WHAT THE MOUSES WAS PEEPERS THINKIN', SITTIN' IN THE MIDST OF MY VERY PRECIOUS POTS OF THE NIP?  WHAT WAS SHE THINKIN'?  WAS SHE THINKIN' AT ALL?

But then I took a closer look at that indentation and thought to myself, no, that can't be right.  Peepers' butt is way bigger than that.

MOUSES!

And THEN I thought....

Well that's 'bout the time I thought I might wanna go get nipped on account of my bein' so stressed out by the fact that SOMEONE had gone and sat right in the midst of my potted catnip plants and left a big ol' stupid indentation where they had sat.

So long story short...

Kinda.

So long story short, after I got nipped, I got the munchies and had to go find myself a snack.  And as snacks required on account of nip-induced munchies will do, said snack made me sleepy so I had to have a nap.

And after wakin' up from my nap...

After wakin' up from my nap, I went to investigate the strange indentation in my catnip plants, once more.

And that's when I saw...

That's when I saw one of my neighbourhood kitty pals sittin' right in the middle of my best potted catnip plant, munchin' away on my catnip, gettin' high as a kite on the nip.

So I immediately raced indoors 'cause I figured I had best go hide all the snacks.  'Cause after eatin' as much nip as he looked like he had eaten, I was bettin' he was gonna have a bad case of the munchies, for sure.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

misplaced aggression

Hey Saffy, what's up?  You're lookin' a little olive 'round the gills.

It's an expression, my man.  It's just an expression.  I'm not sayin' your charcoal grey furs have suddenly turned green.  Just means you look like you're feelin' unwell.

Well yes, the expression usually is green around the gills, but I'm tryin' to expand my vocabulary, you see.

MOUSES!

So anyway...  What's up?

Uh-huh.  Uh-huh.  Interestin'.  Hmmm...

So you definitely heard her usin' the term misplaced aggression, huh?  You're sure that was the term?

THEN WHAT ON EARTH DID YOU DO?

MOUSES!

Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh.  Uh-huh.  Again, interestin'.  Very interestin', indeed.  Hmmm....

And you're sure you did nothin' at all.  You're sure you didn't lash out at her or anythin' like that?  You're sure you weren't upset with someone else and decided to take it out on the peep?  You're absolutely positively really and truly sure?

You are sure, you say.  Well not to worry, Saffy, my man.  I know the peep and I know her very well.  Peepers never holds cases of misplaced aggression against us cats.  Never!

Believe me, I know.

MOUSES!

SHE SAID WHAT?

ARE YOU SURE?

You're sure you heard Peepers say that if it happened again, she would put a stop to it, herself?

YOU'RE REALLY SURE?

And uh...  Ummm...  Well exactly how was she gonna put a stop to this case of misplaced aggression of yours?  I mean, you've already been neutered.  There's not much else she can do.

MOUSES!

SHE SAID WHAT?

Oh.

Wait a minute, ol' brother of mine.  Methinks you've got your tail in a twist, all for nothin'.  I don't think Peepers was talking 'bout you, at all.

BECAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE ANY SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS, Saffy, my man.  Peepers can't unfriend you or block you or anythin' like that in an attempt to put a stop to any outlandish and outrageous comments you make, on account of your not bein' on Facebook or Twitter to say stupid stuff in the first place.

I, other the paw, have to be super careful, for sure.  What with my blog and my fan page on Facebook, and all; not to mention my account over on Twitter.  Yup, I have to be super careful of what I say all the time, which is why...

Which is why I NEVER post stuff when I'm nipped.

MOUSES!

I once knew this cat who used to get nipped all the time before takin' to the keys, postin' all kinds of naughty stuff.  It was not a pretty sight, to be sure.

What did he say, you ask?  What did he SAY?

I have no idea, to tell you the truth.  What I meant was, it wasn't a pretty sight to see.  He once posted this picture of himself all nipped up like no cat has ever been nippered before.  His tongue was hangin' out and lollin' about; and there was drool drippin' down from his dewlaps.

Dewlaps.  You know, means jowls.  Like I said, I'm tryin' to expand my vocabulary, you see.

MOUSES!

But my point is, Saffron, that cat lay there lookin' just like a dog.

Not a pretty sight, at all.

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.

what the mouses?

What the mouses were you thinkin', woman?

WHAT THE MOUSES?

Of all the stupendously stupid, moused-up mousin' things to do...

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', Peepers has gone and done somethin' really stupid.  AGAIN.

And do you know what, my friends?

You would be right.

AGAIN.

MOUSES!

Okay, so here's the deal: Peepers went to the store today and came home with a trunk load of poopies.  That's right, poopies.  Poopies!  A whole whompin' trunk load of poopies.

MOUSES!

Bags and bags of the stuff.

MOUSES!

Meanwhile, here I am, diligently doin' my duty by fillin' the litter box a couple times a day, and Peepers goes out and BUYS poopies.  That's right, she PAID for those poopies she bought.

As if I don't leave enough in the litter box, already.

MOUSES!

DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY TREATS COULD HAVE BEEN BOUGHT WITH THE MONEY SHE USED TO BUY THOSE POOPS?

MOUSES!

Or for that matter...  I mean, if I wasn't leavin' enough deposits in the ol' litter box, myself...  Well...  Well she could have started up a collection or somethin' at the end of the driveway.  That's right, peeps are always passin' by, carryin' their little poop bags filled with poopies when walkin' their doggies.  She COULD have put a box down there and...

Scratch that.  There's no need soil a good box by fillin' it with poopies.

There's no need to do anythin' so crazy and rash, not to mention wasteful.

MOUSES!

But she COULD have put a big sign up down at the end of the driveway sayin' ATTENTION ALL DOG WALKERS: LEAVE BAGGED POOPIES HERE with a little arrow or somethin' directin' where the poop bags should be left.  I'm sure lots of doggy peeps would be willin' to leave their bags of poopies at the end of our driveway instead of carrying 'em around with 'em while finishin' their walk.

It's not like some of 'em don't leave the bags of poop behind, anyway.

MOUSES!

But oh no...  OH NO...  OH NO, NOT MY PEEP.  What does MY peep go and do?  My peep, bein' very peepishly peep-like, goes out and PAYS GOOD MONEY - that could and should have been spent on treats for me - on bags and bags of poop.  Poop!  A big ol' honkin' trunk load of poop.

MOUSES!

HEY PEEPERS!  PEEPERS!  Listen up, you hear?  Next time you feel the need to go get yourself a whole load of manure - aka poopies - for the garden, before you go out and waste any more money on poop, you come talk to me.  YOU HEAR?

By gosh and by golly, I'll even deliver those poopies for free.  That's right, I can bypass the ol' litter box and deposit my deposits straight into the garden for you.  I can even dig 'em in!  Save you all that wasted effort WHICH WOULD BE MUCH BETTER SPENT by goin' to the store and gettin' some really nice treats for yours truly.

And maybe a bag or two for Saffy, as well.

Provided he helps with the poopin', of course.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

a favourite toy

Hey Peepers!

Hey Peepers!

HEY!  PEEPERS!  PEEPERS!!!  I said, PEEPERS!!!

Yeah, I'm talkin' to you.

MOUSES!

So Peepers, you happen to know where that ol' nip mouse of mine is?  You know the one.  My absolute FAVOURITE nip mouse of all time?  Best nip mouse I've ever had?  Very, very, VERY BEST nip mouse, ever, for sure?

Yeah, the one with the torn seam where the nip keeps fallin' out.  It's green.  I think.  Well it was.  Probably.  It's kinda discoloured on account of my havin' slobbered all over it so many times, sometimes slobberin' right after eating and stuff.

Well you don't have to screw your face up like that, but yeah...

Yeah, that's definitely the one.

The one where the very thought of it makes your face go all weird like that, I mean.

MOUSES!

I KNOW THE NIP MOUSE LOOKS YUCKY BUT IT'S MY NIP MOUSE.  My favourite nip mouse of all time.  The kinda nip mouse a kitty like me just can't live without.

MOUSES!

So anyway...  

So anyway, you happen to know where it might be?  I've pretty much looked everywhere.  Under the beds, under the chesterfield, and even between the chesterfield cushions.  Can't find it anywhere, at all.  

And I did ask Saffy if he happened to know where it is but he's not talkin'.  Not sure if he's ignorin' my questions on account of his feelin' guilty for havin' done somethin' to my nip mouse, or...

Or if he's just sleepin' super soundly.

MOUSES!

But like I was sayin', Peepers...  YOU HAPPEN TO KNOW WHERE MY NIP MOUSE MIGHT BE?

Again with the screwed up face.

MOUSES!

It is not all fouled up and stinky and gross.

It's loved.

And cherished!

And MINE.

MOUSES!

And to tell you the truth, Peepers, if I can't find that nip mouse....

If I can't find my very, very, VERY FAVOURITE nip mouse of all time....

Well I just don't know WHAT I'll do.

It's where?

IT'S WHERE?

It's...

WHAT???

YOU THREW IT IN THE TRASH?

Like it was some kinda garbage or somethin' like that?

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Peepers, without my favourite nip mouse...

WHAT WILL I DO?

I know what I'll do.  I know what I'll do, for sure.  I'm gonna go fish that ol' nip mouse right outta the trash and give it a good slobbery wash up and...

Scratch that.  Turns out the nip mouse is in the trash next to an old pair of Peepers' gardening shoes.

DISGUSTING, for sure.

No way, now how, am I gonna cuddle up with a nip mouse that has spent time with those shoes.

Good thing I have a whole whack of other nip mice to cuddle.  One of 'em will have to be named my very, very, VERY FAVOURITE nip mouse of all time.

Call me fickle, why don't ya.

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.

look at me!

"Look at me!  LOOK AT ME!"

"LOOK AT ME!"

We're all lookin', Saffy.  Peepers, Peep #2, me...  We're ALL lookin'.  We're lookin' at you.  So now, do you think you could stop with the yellin'?

'Cause it's givin' me a headache, for sure.

MOUSES!

"LOOK AT ME!!!"

Yeah, yeah, you've gone and climbed a tree.  Big deal.  I've climbed a tree or two in my nine lives, as well.  We're cats.  We climb trees.  It's kinda what we do.

And just wait 'til you wanna come down.

MOUSES!

"WHAT'S THAT, SIVVERS?  I'M TOO FAR AWAY TO HEAR YOU.  I'M TOO FAR AWAY BECAUSE I'M SO VERY FAR UP IN THIS TREE."

I see that, Saffy, my man.  You're all the way up that big ol' maple tree in the backyard.  Well up as far as kitties can climb, that is.  Squirrels'll climb higher on account of their bein' able to climb the itty bitty teeny tiny branches; but we cats can only climb as high as the stronger ones.

Branches, that is.

MOUSES!

"LOOK AT ME!!!"

WE'RE ALL LOOKIN'.  I already told you that.  We were lookin' when you were yellin' at the foot of the tree before you climbed the darn thing, and we're all lookin' now that you've gone and done so.  We're all lookin' at you!

And now, if you would be so kind as to come back down to the ground before Peepers goes into cardiac arrest with worry, that would be great.

'Cause she's our number one can opener, you see.

MOUSES!

"LOOK AT ME!!!"

I already told you we're lookin', Saffy.  We've seen all there is to see.  Now get down here this instant.  Get down here right now!

*impatiently taps paw on the ground*

GET DOWN HERE, SAFFY.  NOW!

"Look at..."

"Uh..."

"Um, Seville?"

Yes, Saffron...

"How do I uh..."

Close your eyes, come down tail first, and hold on for dear life with your front claws.

Told you it would be harder comin' down.

MOUSES!

"LOOK AT ME!!!!!  I'm back down on the ground."

'Bout time, too, Saffy.  Peepers was 'bout ready to faint.  I was worried I'd have to resuscitate her, or somethin' like that.

And the very thought was grossin' me out.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

but one job

You had but one job, Saffy.  ONE job.

And you totally messed it up, for sure.

MOUSES!

Oh don't go complainin' to me 'bout havin' too much work to do 'round here.  You only have ONE job.  One as in one.  Not two.  Not three.  Just the one.

MOUSES!

Saffron, you're up at dawn every mornin'.  LITERALLY.  You're literally awake and up at dawn.

And I'm pretty sure you're sometimes up before then, too, but at least you have the decency to wait 'til the sun is up before startin' to make a lotta noise.  SOMETIMES.  Other times, you're up and about makin' enough noise to wake up the dead.

Or Peepers.

Or worse, ME.

MOUSES!

But my point is, Saffron, you're up with the sun most mornings, and with the sun risin' so early these days, you're up before Peepers.  Up before Peepers wants to be up, too.  Up before that darned alarm clock of hers starts ringin' and ringin' and ringin'.  AND RINGIN'.

Did I mention it rings?

MOUSES!

And that, Saffy Saffron Sassifras, brings me to the point of this here little talk we're havin' right now.  It brings me to the point.  The point which would be about...

That's right Saffy, my man...

Your job.

THE ONE AND ONLY JOB THAT YOU HAVE.

Your job which is to wait until Peepers' alarm clock goes off and then get right in there and start meowin' up a storm 'til she gets up and outta bed.

Allowin' us kitties to have brekkies at a reasonable hour.

So that we don't get too hungry, you see.

MOUSES!

But what did you do this mornin', ol' brother of mine?

Well I'll tell you what you DIDN'T do.  You didn't make sure Peepers got up after her alarm clock went off its dinger.  Instead, you allowed her to knock it off its block, roll over, and go back to sleep.

And as a result...

As a result, I, Seville the Cat, didn't get my brekkies 'til sometime past eight.  Way past eight, as a matter of fact.  Way, way, WAY past eight, to be sure.

Think it was 'bout ten minutes past, in fact.  Maybe even eleven.

I'm tellin' ya, I nearly starved.

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.

what have you done?

Good grief, Peepers, what have you done?  What have you done?

I said, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?

MOUSES!

You've done some pretty stupid stuff in your life, Peepers, and I've witnessed it all.  But this time...  Well this time takes the cake, to be sure.  Are you aware we now have the stinkiest garden in the whole, entire neighbourhood?   Are you aware?

I said, ARE YOU AWARE?

MOUSES!

Well let me tell you somethin', ol' peep of mine.  I went outside yesterday mornin' only to find a bevy of deer havin' a meetin', and they were none too pleased, to be sure.

Bevy?  What in tarnation is a bevy, you ask?

I think it's a bunch.

MOUSES!

But anyway, as I was sayin', this bevy of deer were mighty upset and at first I wasn't sure why.  Oh sure, I knew it was about you.  I knew YOU were the one who had upset 'em.  I mean, who else would do somethin' like that.  But I didn't know exactly WHAT you had done to upset 'em so much.

This time.

MOUSES!

But then I detected a faint whiff of somethin' in the air.  Somethin' stinky, to be exact.  IN FACT, somethin' so stinky I almost ran inside to get a clothespin to cover my nose.  AND I WOULD HAVE done exactly that until I thought better of it, 'cause you know...

It's mighty hard to breath with a clothespin stuck on your nose.

MOUSES!

So I sat there for a mo, ponderin' what to do next.  Should I investigate this assault on my nose?  Or should I just ask that bunch or bevy of deer why they were so darned upset.

That was 'bout when one of the deer stuck a petition in my face.  They wanted me to sign, you see, and figured I would on account of my facial expression as I held my breath and was about to collapse from lack of breathable air.

PEE-EW.

MOUSES!

And that's when I saw it.

Or smelled it.

Whatever.

APPARENTLY, ol' peep of mine, those bars of soap you cut up and scattered all over, have not gone unnoticed.  Not gone unnoticed by the deer.  And just how many of 'em did you use, anyway?  From the stink of it, I'd say at least a couple dozen.

MOUSES!

And why did you do somethin' so stupid?  WHY?  Are you insinuatin' the deer need to bathe?

'Cause that's what they're thinkin', Peepers, and like I said earlier: they're really not pleased.

Although to tell you the truth, there were a couple who could do with a good bath, to be sure.  I didn't say anythin', however, on account of my not wantin' to insult 'em any more than YOU had insulted 'em, already.

Plus, those long legs of theirs look like they might be mighty good at kickin'.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of bein' insultin'...

Speakin' of bein' insultin', the deer are upset not only 'bout the bathin' thing, but also 'bout your havin' stunk up their mornin' meal.

You know, the tulips.

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

Stinkin' up the bed of tulips was what you were tryin' to do?

Hmmm....

Nope, I think you're gonna have to elaborate a little, ol' peep of mine.  Why would you WANT to stink up their food?

'Cause the tulips were never meant to be food.

Hmmm....

Well to tell you the truth, I think that ship already sailed.

SO WOULD YOU PLEASE GO OUT THERE AND GATHER UP ALL YOUR BITS OF STINKY SOAP SO I WON'T ACTUALLY HAVE TO RESORT TO STICKIN' A CLOTHESPIN ON MY NOSE.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

whistle while you work

If you can.

MOUSES!

Hey Peepers!

HEY PEEPERS!

HEY!  PEEPERS!  The kettle is boilin'.

And its uncontrolled boilin' is drivin' me crazy.

MOUSES!

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

I AM NOT already crazy.

I don't think.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, the peeps have a problem; and their problem has turned into mine.  Yup, their problem is that the kitchen kettle that's supposed to whistle when the water is ready, no longer whistles.  It's a case of a whistlin' kettle not whistlin' while it works 'cause its whistle ain't workin', for sure.

MOUSES!

The problem arose a few days ago.  Peepers wanted to make tea but when she went to pour the water into the teapot, a piece of kettle fell off.  Yup, a piece fell right off the kettle!

Then magically rolled under the fridge.

All on its own.

Okay, so it had a little help rollin' under the fridge and to tell you the truth, it didn't so much roll - although it was round in parts - as it was pushed.

Pushed...  Batted...  Whatever.

MOUSES!

But the point, I do believe, is that the piece of the kettle that now resides under the refrigerator was, in fact, the kettle's whistle.

So really...

So really, it's a case of a whistlin' kettle not whistlin' while it works 'cause the whistle ain't there, for sure.

Or somethin' like that.

MOUSES!

And for the record, Peepers can't whistle, either.  She never could.  Never learned.  But that is neither here nor there as she isn't a kettle.

I don't think.

MOUSES!

But now I, Seville the Cat, HAVE AN ENORMOUS PROBLEM on my wee little paws.  Whereas I used to find the sound of that whistlin' kettle extremely annoyin', the cloud of hot steamy water bein' pumped into the air that I breathe with the possibility of smoke followin' said steam if the kettle should happen to boil dry on account of Peepers not knowin' the kettle is boiling 'cause it's no longer whistlin', is worse.  Way, way, WAY worse, to be sure.

So I, Seville the Cat, have offered to buy Peepers a new kettle.

Okay, so really I, Seville the Cat, have offered to take Peepers to the store so that she can buy a new kettle.

Okay, so REALLY I, Seville the Cat, have told Peepers to get off her stupid ol' lazy tail and go buy herself a kettle.

Before she ends up burnin' my house down to the ground.

Or somethin' like that.

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.

play hard to get

Good grief, GET A ROOM, you two.  Get a room!

MOUSES!

Yeah, yeah...  I know you love Peepers, Saffron.  I know you're always snugglin' up to her and purrin' and givin' her head bonks and stuff.  AND I KNOW she loves you, too.  I know she's always kissin' the top of your head and rubbin' your tummy and givin' you chin tickles.  I know!

But she loves me, too, Saffy, my man.  I'm her handsome marmalade mancat, you see, AND I HAVE BEEN for many a year.  Peepers loves me, too.  I just don't make such a spectacle of myself showin' her how much I love her all the time, like you.

Okay, so maybe I do.

MOUSES!

But a word to the wise, Saffy Saffron Sassifras: With peeps, it is to your advantage to play hard to get.  Ever hear about that?

You have?

Then how come you behave like you do?

MOUSES!

I'm gonna tell you this just the once, Saffron: A kitty who plays hard to get gets EXTRA cuddles and chin tickles and things.

Okay, I can do without the cuddles so maybe extra cuddles might be a bad thing, but...

But one can never get too many scritches to the chin.

Fact.

MOUSES!

Saffy, next time Peepers is givin' you chin tickles and behind the ear scritches, don't start purrin' too soon.  'Cause once you start to purr, peeps have a tendency to stop with the scritches.  It's like your purrin' is their goal and once that goal has been reached, they think they can stop with the scritches.

Peeps are like that, you see.

Fact.

MOUSES!

So if you want lots and lots of scritches, it's best to hold out on the purrs.  Hold out on 'em for as long as you can.  I know that can be hard to do, but the more you hold out, the more scritches you will get, to be sure.

Fact.

MOUSES!

But as for the cuddles...

As for the cuddles, once Peepers starts pickin' you up and givin' you cuddles and slobberin' all over the top of your head with kisses...

RUN!

Run like the dickens, my friend, lest you get peep cooties from her, or somethin' like that.

Somethin' like fleas.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

days like this

I'm tellin' ya, my friends, it's days like this when I sure am glad I'm a cat.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin' a cat like me should be glad to be a cat EVERY day.  And you know somethin', my friends?

YOU WOULD BE RIGHT.

MOUSES!

But today of all days, I am ESPECIALLY glad to be a kitty and the reason is pretty simple, to be sure.  You see, word on the street is, when peeps get old like my peep who goes by the name of Peepers, the Easter Bunny sometimes stops visitin' and hidin' candy and stuff.  Apparently, the Easter Bunny thinks there comes a time for peeps to not need chocolate bunnies and eggs and things.

Clearly, the Easter Bunny has never met Peep #1 'cause if there were ever a peep who NEEDED chocolate, it's my Peepers.

Chocolate has the ability to subdue her inner beast, you see.

MOUSES!

But anyway...

But anyway, like I was sayin', apparently when you get old, the Easter Bunny stops bringin' you treats.

If you're a peep.

MOUSES!

But the thing is, when you're a kitty, YOU NEVER GET OLD.

MOUSES!

Oh sure, we kitties get oldER, to be sure.  We're a year older every year, in fact.  But we never actually get old.

Least not in the eyes of our peeps.

Nope, in the eyes of our peeps, we kitties are their babies forever and ever and ever.  And ever!  And after that, too.  In the eyes of our peeps, we are their babies for eternity, you see.

And while this forever-lastin'-babyin' has its disadvantages at times...

Times like when a kitty wants to stay out and play after dark but is told in no uncertain terms that we can't stay out late 'cause it's past our bedtime, on account of us HAVIN' a bedtime, on account of our peeps thinkin' of us MANcats as bein' their babies and stuff.

MOUSES!

So yes, this forever-lastin'-babyin' does have disadvantages at times, but on Easter mornin'...

But on Easter mornin', we kitties are bound to be treated as kittENS and find all sorts of good stuff.  Yup, we find all sorts of good stuff left for us by the Easter Bunny, you see.  Things like nip eggs and nip mice and everythin' nice.  

'CAUSE MY PEEPERS HAS INFORMED MR EASTER BUNNY, HIMSELF, THAT I, SEVILLE THE CAT, AM HER BABY; AND  AM THEREFORE ENTITLED TO MY EASTER MORNIN' TREATS.

Either that, or she hides 'em all over the house, herself.

Nah, EVERYONE KNOWS the Easter Bunny hides all those goodies.

'Cept, of course, the ones for the old peeps.

And spreakin' of old peeps and their treats...

So speakin' of Peepers, Saffy and I had to order up a whole whack of chocolate eggs for her and hide 'em last night so that she, too, would have some goodies to find.  'CAUSE EVERYONE KNOWS A CHOCOLATE-LESS PEEPERS IS A SUPER SCARY PEEPERS, TO BE SURE.

Well that, and the fact that it's fun to watch Peepers crawlin' around the livin' room floor peerin' under furniture and stuff, and whining 'bout how sore it is on her knees; all whist droolin' over the thought of Cadbury cream eggs and Lindor chocolate truffles and...

Hey Saffy!  Pass me another nip egg, would ya?  Show's about to get REAL good, to be sure.  Peepers just spotted that truffle you hid behind the piano.

HAPPY EASTER EVERYBODY.

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.

you ever notice?

Bonjour mes amis.

Guttentag!

Buenos dias a todas?

MOUSES!

You ever notice...

You EVER notice...

You ever notice that when we kitties wanna communicate with our peeps, we kitties end up havin' to do all the hard work?  We kitties always have to learn peep languages, rather than peeps learnin' how to speak Cat.

MOUSES!

Oh sure, peeps'll learn French and German and Spanish and a myriad of other languages - or at least they'll try - but when it comes to their learnin' how to speak Cat...

Well...

Well MOUSES!

Take my Peepers for instance.  I'm tellin' ya, she doesn't know her meows from her mews.  Or her mews from her meows, for that matter, either.  I tell her to do one thing, and she totally misunderstands and goes and does the complete opposite, for sure.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', what with Peepers bein' a somewhat obstinate peep and all, she probably DOES understand Cat and is just doin' the opposite of what I've asked her to do just to be...

Well...

Obstinate.

You know, like a peep.

MOUSES!

Now to tell you the truth, if that was what was goin' on, I'd actually have a little respect for that.  That kinda behaviour is truly catlike, for sure.  But no, that's not what's happenin' here.  Not what's happenin' here, at all.

I've tried to trick her, you see.  Well test, really.  I've tested her by tellin' her to do the opposite of what I want her to do, in order for her to do the opposite of what I've asked, which would be what I wanted her to do all along.  And if she really did understand Cat, my scheme...  I mean, test, would work; but alas, she just goes and does whatever she was gonna do anyway, without listenin' to my directions at all.

Yup, typical peep.

MOUSES!

And then there are the times when she has ATTEMPTED to speak Cat.

Now I say attempt on account of my ASSUMIN' she was makin' an attempt; but whatever she was sayin' was complete gibberish, for sure.  Her duncification was so obvious, it was painful to my ears.  Literally painful!  TO MY EARS!

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

Duncification is too a word.  I used it in a sentence and everythin'.  I used it correctly, too.

Unlike your use of the word meow.

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.