Showing posts with label mosquitoes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mosquitoes. Show all posts

Sunday, 8 June 2025

chewin' your cud?


Whatcha chewin' on there, Saffy, my man?  Are you chewin' your cud?


Bwahahahahahahahahaha...


MOUSES!


Yes, Saffy, it is. It is too funny, for sure.  It's funny 'cause...


Well...


Oh, never mind.


Take too long to explain.


MOUSES!


But as I was sayin' - or askin', rather - whatcha chewin' on?  I didn't see Peepers dishin' out any extra treats.


MOUSES!


You WHAT?


MOUSES!


Saffy, Saffy, Saffron...   Skeeters are not for eatin'.


Okay, so maybe they are.  Maybe they ARE annoyin' little things that can into the house, flittin' this way and that, tryin' to bite our kitty noses; and maybe eatin' one might very well give a kitty a little satisfaction.


But they're way, way, way too small to chew.


'Cause when I say little, I mean LITTLE, 'cause skeeters are so teeny tiny, they're...


Well...


Oh, never mind.


Take too long to explain.


MOUSES!


And who let that skeeter in the house in the first place?  Peepers?  Prolly.  Prolly was Peepers, 'cause she's always leavin' doors open here and there, and when you leave a door open in skeeter season, a skeeter is likely to get in.


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


Yeah, yeah...  So MAYBE you did have the door open lettin' one of us kitties in or out - or in AND out - 'cause we kitties do kinda like to sit there on the doorstep for a while, decidin' if we want to go out.  Or stay in.  Or come back in.  Or go back out.


You get the picture, I am sure.


BUT MY POINT IS...  My point is, it was YOU who opened the door.  So ergo ispso defacto, it was YOU who let that darned mosquito inside.


MOUSES!


AND BECAUSE YOU LET THAT SKEETER INSIDE, Saffron was bein' bothered by it and had to take matters into his own paws and deal with that skeeter, himself!


He ate it, you know.  Yup, that's right, Peepers: Saffron ate the skeeter.


As little as it was.


By gosh and by golly, you'd think you were starvin' us kitties!  IMAGINE us kitties havin' to resort to eatin' mosquitoes.


They're not even big enough to chew.


MOUSES!


And what's more...


Saffy, look!  Look at that, Saffy, my man.  Peepers is so annoyed 'bout havin' to listen to my Saffy-ate-a-skeeter-'cause-you're-starvin'-us rant, she's doling out the most temptin' of the really temptin' treats!!!


And just LOOK at the number she's doling.


By gosh and by golly, had I known a rant like this would get us more treats...


I'D HAVE BEEN RANTIN' ON ABOUT SKEETER EATIN' ALL ALONG.


Saffy, make sure you find and eat another skeeter later today, okay?  I'm thinkin' I might like some more treats 'round about four-thirty.  So start the skeeter hunt around four.  That should give me enough time to prepare a good rant.


MOUSES!


Wednesday, 12 July 2023

got it!


By gosh and by golly, I got it.

I got it, YOO-HOO!


MOUSES!


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


Well...


Well let me ask you this then, Peepers.  Did you, or did you not, wanna be bitten by that skeeter?


Now take your time there, ol' peep of mine.  You're old and decrepit, and it's perfectly reasonable for things to take longer now in your old age, and...


YOU ARE TOO.  You're old and decrepit, for sure.


WELL YOU'RE A HECK OF A LOT OLDER THAN ME.


MOUSES!


Okay, so maybe you're not actually decrepit.  YET.  But give it time, Peepers.  Give it time.  One day you surely will be.


MOUSES!


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


You're back to asking 'bout that, huh?  You're back to askin' why I gave you that swat?  You're back to askin' why...


Wait a minute.  ARE YOU SAYIN' YOU WANTED THAT SKEETER TO BITE YOU?


Mouses woman, you must be insane.


'Cause no one - not cat nor peep - actually likes bein' bitten by skeeters.  Those mosquitoes are the peskiest things.  They go 'bout their lives, flitting 'round your face and buzzin' in your ears.  'Nough to drive a kitty mad, they are.  AND I WOULD THINK they're enough to drive a peep mad, too.


Unless she already is.


So yes, I, bein' the most thoughtful of kitties that I am, DID TAKE one good swat at that skeeter flittin' around and about; as it was clearly botherin' you, without a doubt!  That skeeter was askin' for trouble, he was.  He was ASKIN' to be swatted, for sure.  HE WAS ASKIN' for me to give him a swat and squish him under my paw, and...


Well yes, Peepers, my claws were out.  Whatever is your point?


Well yeah, sure, but...


But you know, it's not really my fault.  Your arm was right there right under that skeeter when that skeeter ended up under my paw.


Not to mention my claw.


Well let me ask you this, then, Peepers.  Are you, or are you not, positive it was one of my claws that drew blood?  I mean, it could have been the skeeter.  He might have already taken a bite.


They do that, you know, those skeeters.  That's just the kinda thing that they do.


MOUSES!




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


And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!


Sunday, 9 June 2019

talk about crazy

Talk about a crazy ol' lady.

MOUSES!

So there are peeps out there who feed cats.  Peep #1 would be one of 'em, for sure.

And there are peeps out there who feed the birds.  My Peep #1 would kinda be one of those, too.  We don't actually have a bird feeder...

Some nonsense 'bout us cats lurkin' around bird feeders if she puts one up, she says.

But she plants stuff in the garden that birds like, so I guess that counts as feeding 'em.  Sorta.  You know, in a weird and crazy kinda way.

MOUSES!

And then there are peeps out there who feed...

No.  NO.  No, there are NOT any peeps out there who feed...

Okay, so there's ONE crazy ol' peep out there who feeds...

WAIT FOR IT...

MOSQUITOES.

MOUSES!

That's right, Peep #1 was out and about in the garden yesterday, and what did she do?

She fed mosquitoes.

MOUSES!

Okay, so that wasn't her original plan.  I mean, she didn't actually go to the mosquito store and buy mosquito food or anythin' like that.

She didn't need to.  She already had that on hand.

And on arm.

On leg.

On neck.

And any and every other part of her that was exposed, too.

MOUSES!

You should have seen her when she came indoors.  YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN HER, MY FRIENDS.  There were traces of blood - hers - and squished mosquitoes all over the place.

Well not exactly all over the place, but all over her arms and legs, for sure.  I saw a squished skeeter right in the middle of her forehead, too.

That forehead one was really gross and as a cat, I've seen my fair share of gross things, for sure.

MOUSES!

You know...

You know, in the warmer months, I get dabbed with that flea stuff, the first of every month.  Yup, right there on the back of my neck.  Not somethin' I enjoy, or anythin' like that, but the peep says it's important, and...

Well let's just say, I'm not really given a choice in the matter, my friends.

But what I wanna know is this:  HOW COME THE PEEP DOESN'T GET DABBED ON THE BACK OF HER NECK?

I'm tellin' ya, it's never a two way street around here.  Rules made for us cats are never followed by peeps.  Humans think the rules never apply to them.

It's a disgusting state of affairs, for sure.

MOUSES!

And you know somethin' else?

Next time I see a skeeter...

Next time I see one of those skeeters, I'm gonna tell him exactly where ol' Peeperoni hangs out.

And then...

And then, I'm not gonna tell the peep when she has a skeeter restin' on the back of her leg.

MOUSES!

I'm tellin' ya, if it looks like a toy, and moves like a toy...

Well I'm gonna treat it like a toy, for sure.

Contrary to what peeps say, location is most certainly NOT everythin', these days.

A kitty smacks a skeeter off the back of a peep's leg, and gets NOTHIN' BUT GRIEF for havin' done so.  Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah...  That's all I heard.  Nothin' but complaints, for sure.

Now come on, Peepers.  Be a good little peep and let me dab some flea stuff on the back of your neck.

MOUSES!


Sunday, 31 May 2015

run for your life!

Run Peepers!  RUN! RUN!!!  Run for your life, Peepers!  Run for all nine of them!

Oh yeah, you're just a peep.  You only have the one life.  Means you have to run all the harder.  Run!  RUN!  Run like you've never run before!!!

Earlier that day...

Earlier that day, I spotted Peep #1 waving her arms around in the air and making weird sounds of distress.  "Arr!  Arrgh!  Grrrr!  MOUSES!"  Stuff like that.  Not her normal speech patterns at all. Oddly enough, I couldn't see who the recipient of the weird peep grunts and growls was. The peep appeared to be all alone.  All alone with arms flailing while making weird noises.  MOUSES!

Of course, I assumed the obvious.  The peep had finally gone over the edge.

And they said that WE CATS would be the ones to drive her over the edge.  Nothing doing. There wasn't a cat in sight.  Besides, none of us have an actual driver's licence so clearly, we can't drive her anywhere let alone over some fictitious edge.  MOUSES!

Unable to see anyone hanging around, ready to dress up the peep in a straight jacket, I then assumed that she was doing some sort of dance.  Perhaps Peep #1 was thinking of auditioning for one of those television dancing shows.  Dancing with the Peeps or something like that.

Of course, any delusions the peep may have had of being able to make it onto Dancing with the Peeps would be confirmation of the need for that straight jacket, for sure.

Then I thought...  RAIN DANCE.  Actually, that could still be a possibility as today...  well...  it rained.  MOUSES!

Did I say rain?  Actually, it poured but that's beside the point, I think.  Or is it?  Perhaps it was a very successful dance.  Nah, it didn't look very successful to me.

Anyway, the peep was doing her thing, looking all weird and stuff and making silly noises when eventually she gave up on the dancing and came inside.  "Those **** bugs!" she cried.

Ahhh...  of course.  Bug season.  She had been swatting the bugs.  Grunting and growling at them, too.  Not sure what good grunting and growling does though.  Do bugs have ears?  I don't know.  Do you?

"I have some stuff I can dab on the back of your neck, Peepers," I said.  "Works for fleas and ticks.  Might work for skeeters, too."

The peep just looked at me as if I was talking nonsense.  MOUSES!

"Where's that candle..." she muttered.

"Candle!" I cried.  "Candles are for decorating and sealing important letters.  Why would you want that?"

"I bought a citronella candle last week..." and the peep started searching through my office.

Clearly, I needed to do something about this.  Citronella sounded suspiciously like citrus and I, as a cat, have an aversion to lemons and oranges and the like.  I don't like them one bit.  No way was I going to have the peep stinking up the house with citrus!

"What you need, Peepers, is some nip," I suggested.  "I've heard that by growing vast fields of nip all over the place, you can keep those skeeters at bay."

The peep stared blankly ahead as if she hadn't heard me at all.  Was there something wrong with her hearing?  MOUSES!

"Aha!" cried the peep with satisfaction.  "Now where are those matches?"

I watched Peep #1 head out the door with her lit Citronella candle in tow.  Well at least she was taking it outside, I thought to myself.  At least she's not stinking up the house with that thing.

Shortly afterwards, the peep returned with her precious candle, it's flame extinguished.  I peered inside the glass container only to see a dead skeeter.  The darned things apparently liked the smell of citronella and were drawn to it like moths to a.... Interesting.  Moths to a flame.  MOUSES!

I looked up at the peep.  She was looking kind of blotchy and stuff.  Either she was allergic to that smelly candle or she had been exerting herself too much by flailing her arms about at those mosquitoes.  Either way, she didn't look good.

"Do you know what you really need, Peepers?  What you really need is a space suit," I suggested. "Those bugs will never get through that.  You have a space suit on paw?"

And once again the peep behaved as if she hadn't heard me.  Was she being rude or were those little red bumps on her face causing her ear canals to swell?  Skeeter bites, I muttered under my breath.

"You know, you really shouldn't let the mosquitoes bite you like that," I told her but it was like I was talking to deaf ears.  MOUSES!

"Yeah, Peepers, you REALLY need a space suit and while you're at it, how about getting some make-up or something.  I saw this show on television once where make-up artists made people up to look like aliens and monsters and..."

That got her attention.  She looked at me quizzically.

"I'm not suggesting you get them to make you look like an alien, Peepers," I continued.  "I just think that if they can do stuff like that, they can certainly hide that shiner of yours."

The peep appeared bewildered.  Not the first time I've seen her looking like that. Probably won't be the last, either.

"The shiner.  Your shiner.  You look like you have a black eye.  Not a good look, Peepers. Actually, it's kind of gross.  You need to do something about that.  Cover it up or something. That's why I'm suggesting the make-up."

Clearly the peep was unaware that one of those mosquitoes had bitten her just under the eye and left a  bit of a bruise.  MOUSES!

And that's when I saw the peep grabbing the garden secateurs.   "YOU CAN'T FIGHT SKEETERS WITH SECATEURS!" I hollered after her as she ignored me and headed out the door.

I watched from the window while Peep #1 walked over to a lilac bush and started cutting a bouquet of lilacs to bring into the house.  Silly peep.  Would she survive?  Would I ever see her again?

Within minutes, Peep #1 was frantically waving her arms about in the air.  Lilacs in one hand, secateurs in the other and the arm flailing was growing more and more frenzied.  This was not good. One wrong move with those secateurs and...  I closed my eyes, too scared to watch.

I dared to open one eye to take a peek.  The peep was jumping up and down, doing the dance of all dances.  I didn't know if I should laugh or cry.  And that's when it hit me.  I decided that my best plan of action was to TAKE NOTES!

So I did my duty and called out to the peep to run away from the skeeters before sitting down at the computer and starting to type.

Large swarms of killer mosquitoes attacking silly peeps who think they can ward them off with smelly candles after an unusually long winter with record high snowfalls.  All I needed to add was some government official forbidding anyone to utter the words climate change or global warming.  You know, thereby encouraging the public to believe that all is well with the world even though it really isn't.  And a love interest!  These movies always have a love interest of some sort. Someone from the past.  Not time travelling past.  Just someone the peep hasn't seen in a few years.  And, of course, a major character or two will need to be killed off about two thirds in.  Hmm...  which neighbours do I like the least?

Oh my goodness,  I've got the makings of a major prime-time, made-for-television, ratings-making movie here, for sure.  MOUSES!