slow news day

Hey everybody!  Sivvers the Cat, here, bringin' you all the latest news from sunny Nova Scotia.

Okay, so um...

So it's like...

Well...

Well it's a slow news day here, to be sure, WHICH MEANS, I...

Yeah, I really don't have any news to tell.  Not any new news, that is.  And old news...  Well, old news isn't really news, is it.

MOUSES!

So no new news at all.

*sighs*

Accept, of course, for the fact that Peepers was up late last night and ended up sleepin' in this mornin', WHICH MEANT my brekkies were late.

BY A WHOLE HALF HOUR.

Can you believe it?

MOUSES!

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

FINE.

So apparently, Peepers says I have to mention that the reason she was up 'til like three o'clock in the mornin' was 'cause Saffron didn't come inside until then.  And because Saffy didn't come in when he was called, Peepers was out there in the yard with her trusty little ol' flashlight, callin' over and over again for that naughty kitty.  But of course, her calls were really more like loud whispers.  Stage whispers, you might say.  She couldn't call out loudly 'cause....

Well...

You know...

'CAUSE IT WAS THE WEE HOURS OF THE MORNIN' AND EVERYBODY IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD WAS TRYIN' TO SLEEP.

Accept, of course, for the peep.  You know, on account of her bein' outside in the yard lookin' for Saffy.

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

FINE.

So apparently, Saffy wasn't wholly to blame.  APPARENTLY, Peepers says I put him up to it.  Or he was copyin' me.  Or somethin' or other like that.  Sorta.  Kinda.  You know what I mean.

Personally, I wanna see the proof before I take any actual blame.

'CAUSE PEEPS CAN'T JUST GO 'ROUND BLAMIN' GOOD LITTLE KITTIES LIKE ME WITHOUT FIRST OFFERIN' UP SOME PROOF.  I'M NOT BEIN' RAILROADED INTO ADMITTIN' SOMETHIN' I'VE DONE.

At least not if that somethin' can't be proven.

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

You have WHAT?

MOUSES!

By gosh and by golly, It's like she's hired some kinda private investigator or somethin'.  Some private investigator who's followin' me around, watchin' my every move, and takin' down notes.  Or like she's channelling Miss Marple or Jessica Fletcher.  Or...

NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR 'BOUT YOUR CROOKED, UNSUBSTANTIATED PROOF, OL' PEEP OF MINE.  NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR!

Especially not me.

I'm tellin' ya, a kitty can't get away with anythin' around here.

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.

I've got news

Yoo-hoo...

Oh yoooo-hoooo...

PEEPERS!

Hey Peepers, I've got some news for you.  GOOD news, in fact.  Maybe even the best.  MAYBE even THE BEST news, EVER!!!

So um...  You wanna hear 'bout my big news?

Hmph, I'm thinkin' you don't look nearly as excited as a peep should look when said peep is bein' given the option of hearin' THE. BEST. NEWS. EH-VAH.

So um...  You wanna make an effort to look a little more excited than that?

More.

Nope, still more.

Peepers, you've gotta get a twinkle in your eye.

Not a TWITCH, you stupid ol' peep!  A twinkle!  You've gotta get a TWINKLE in your eye, Peepers.  A twinkle!

MOUSES!

Nope, that's still lookin' like a twitch.

Okay, try this: Imagine that...

Hmm...

Okay, imagine that you've won a lifetime supply of catnip.  That should bring a twinkle to those green eyes of yours.

Boy-oh-boy, Peepers.  Apparently your eyes don't know how to twinkle.

Okay, now where was I?

Oh yeah, I'VE GOT NEWS.  I've got THE BEST NEWS, for sure.  I've got the best news anyone has ever heard and I, Seville the Cat, am willin' to tell you said news, but...

But I'd still like to see you showin' a little more excitement with the prospect of bein' told such good news.

Peepers, try jumpin' up and down or somethin' like that.  You know that expression, jump for joy?  You've heard of that?  Okay, then do some jumpin' jacks.  Do some JOYFUL Jumpin' Jacks, ol' peep of mine.

What?  All you did was lift one foot.

And not very high, either.

MOUSES!

Okay, since you appear to be a joyless non-jumpin' sort, try throwin' your hands up in the air.  And add a little cheer while you're at it.  That should do the trick.

Are your arms unable to reach above your shoulders, Peepers?

Either you're incapable of showin' even a miniscule amount of joy, or...

Or you're like the walkin' dead.

Zombie?

Maybe both.

MOUSES!

*sighs*

So am I just gonna have to tell you my big, excitin' news without any fanfare?  No cheers?  No squeals?  No cries of delight?

FINE.

Okay Peepers, just this once.  Just this once, I'll tell you my news without your showin' the appropriately excited response that someone should have when said someone is bein' told THE MOST EXCITIN' NEWS, EH-VAH.

Just this once.

Not ever again.

You know, on account of my REALLY WANTIN' to tell you my news, and...

Um...

Huh?

Gosh darn it, with your stupid ol' lack of...  Of uh...

Of any noticeable signs of life...

I've totally gone and forgotten my news.

This is all your fault, Peepers.

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.

Seville the Cat here

Hey ho!  Seville the Cat here, bringin' you the most up-to-date news, from rural Nova Scotia.

Hmmm...

Hey ho!  Seville the Cat here, bringin' you MY VERSION of the most up-to-date news, from rural Nova Scotia.

Hmmm....

Hey ho!  Seville the Cat here, bringin' you a whole bunch of stuff I'm makin' up off the top of my head on account of my not havin' anythin' interestin' to blog about today, from rural Nova Scotia.

BETTER.  MOUSES!

Sometimes a cat has just gotta do, what a cat has gotta do.  MOUSES!

So as you might have guessed, there has been NOTHIN' interestin' goin' on at my house for the last couple of days.

Well...  Nothin' noteworthy, I guess.  Nothin' worth bloggin' about, for sure.  MOUSES!

On the other paw...

Nope, sorry.  That information was marked private and personal, and the peep said I couldn't go 'round tellin' the whole wide world.  Not even if it was the ONLY real news I had to tell!

But on the OTHER paw, peeps go around tellin' the whole wide world all their private and personal stuff all the time!  Sometimes that stuff is so private and so personal, the world DOESN'T EVEN WANNA KNOW, but does that stop those peeps?  No sirree.  It doesn't stop 'em at all.  They just go around blabbin' like there's no tomorrow and...

What?  WHAT?  What's that you're sayin', Peepers?  You're sayin' that under no circumstances am I to tell my readers that my sister Mason was feelin' a little under the weather, and ended up with a bit of a dirty bum?  FINE.  MOUSES!

Oh-oh.

Hmmm...

Pretend you didn't hear 'bout that, okay?

And if you can't pretend you didn't hear it, pretend you didn't hear it from ME.  MOUSES!

So what should I blog about today?

I KNOW!  Hey Peepers!  I need to borrow your flashy box.  I need to take a picture of my din-dins.

What?  WHAT?  What's that you're sayin', Peepers?  You're sayin' that under no circumstances do I need to take a picture of my dinner?

Are you sure about that, Peepers?  'Cause peeps take pictures of their dinners, and post those pictures on the Internet, all the time.  And when I say all the time, I really mean ALL the time.  If it weren't for peeps postin' pictures of their dinners, social media would come to a complete standstill, for sure.

Well...  Pictures of their dinners and cute cat videos, that is.  MOUSES!

So that brings me back to square one on the search for a bloggin' topic for today.

Hmmm...

GOT IT.  Peep #1 planted another two azalea bushes yesterday.

And she RE-planted 'em again this mornin'. MOUSES!

Don't worry, Peepers.  I'll be sure to let my readers know that you didn't replant those two azalea bushes just for the fun of replanting 'em.  'Cause believe you me, I watched you replanting 'em this mornin', and it didn't look like you were havin' any fun, at all.  MOUSES!

Yeah, Yeah...  I'll mention the rockies.  Keep your pants on, woman.

And when I say keep your pants on, I mean KEEP YOUR PANTS ON.  World Naked Gardenin' Day was last weekend, not today.  MOUSES!

So anyway, as you might have guessed, the rocky raccoons were back again and last night, they dug up the two azaleas Peep #1 planted yesterday.  But this time, they just left 'em next to where they had been planted, instead of tryin' to haul 'em off into the jungle and...

What?  WHAT?  What's that you're sayin', Peepers?  You're sayin' that under no circumstances am I tell my readers we live in a jungle?

REALLY?  When was the last time you weeded?  MOUSES!

Hehehehehee...  Okay, perhaps that is a bit of an exaggeration.  Not even a whole bazillion gazillion weeds do a jungle make.  Close, but not quite.  Now a million bazillion gazillion weeds would be a TOTALLY different story, for sure.

HEY PEEPERS!  How come I'm findin' your hair all over my office?  You sheddin' or somethin'?

OR ARE YOU GOIN' BALD?

That's not good, Peepers.  Seriously, that's not good at all.  Take my word for it.  The bald look is not a good look for you 'cause Kojak, you are not, and...

GET A GRIP, WOMAN.  If you don't wanna go bald, just stop pullin' on your hair like that.  Stop yankin' it out!  Didn't anyone ever tell you, yanked out hair might not grow back and like I said, Kojak, you are not, and...

What?  WHAT?

FINE.

MOUSES!

Apparently, accordin' to the peep...

But then what does she know?  I mean, she's just a peep and...

What Peepers?

FINE.

MOUSES!

APPARENTLY, accordin' to the peep - while bearing in mind she is just a peep - she's pullin' her hair out on account of my blog post today, and SHE SAYS, since today is Mother's Day, I should go easy on her and give her break.

I guess I could do that.

It IS Mother's Day and all.

And she IS kinda my mother, even though we don't look at all alike.  You know, on account of my bein' way cuter.  Plus, I'm a redhead.  And then there's that whole business of the tail.

My tail.  I'M the one with the tail.  The peep doesn't have a tail.  Not one I've noticed, at least.

I guess I COULD give her a break...

But don't worry friends, I'll be back in FULL FORCE on Wednesday.  Ol' Peepers here can yank out the remainin' hair on her head, then.   MOUSES!

in the news

MOUSES!  MOUSES!!  MOUSES!!!

Sometimes the day is just rotten, you know?  MOUSES!

So I was listening to the news on TV and there were these reporters complaining that the Prime Minister wasn't allowing National reporters to ask him any questions at some...  some...  some thing he was doing.  An appearance of some sort.  He was only letting local reporters ask questions and even they weren't getting to ask very many.  Hearing this, I thought to myself, this could be a problem for me.

After all, I'm not just national.  I'm far bigger than that.  I'm INTER-national! Nerissa's Life has a global audience, you see.

And then there's the bit about my being a cat.  Something tells me the Prime Minister has never answered any questions from a feline reporter, before.  He never once answered any of Nissy's tweets and Nissy was the best darned tootin' reporter the world has ever seen.  Bet the PM didn't answer his tweets on account of his being a cat.  That's specism, that is.  MOUSES!

Thing is, I'm a cat, too.

Not that I'd want to be anything else.  Being a cat is the best.  I should know because...  Because I am one.

But I'm thinking that I might have to disguise myself as a peep if I'm going to be allowed to ask the Prime Minister questions.  A local peep.  A local peep who is willing to ask the right kind of questions.  You know, the kind of questions the PM likes to answer.  That sort of thing.  MOUSES!

But if I ask only the questions I'm allowed to ask, will I still be a good reporting kitty like Nissy? I think not.  Reporters have to ask the hard stuff and be willing to dig in the dirt.  You know what I mean?

Good thing the letter I'm in the midst of writing is to the Premier and not the Prime Minister.  I'm betting he'll answer my questions.  Bet he'll answer them all.  MOUSES!

So that was the start of my day.  A shock to my system about the question asking thing, for sure. And that was on top of the fact that it was a publishing day for my blog and I didn't have a thing about which to write.  MOUSES!

Then came my conversation with Rushton.  He came into my office while I was pouring through newspapers and stuff, looking for things in the news.  Looking for inspiration.  Something I could write about for today's blog post.  I explained this to Rushy and he immediately told me that he knew of some news I could use.

Rushton:  Peep #1 made a sandwich.
Me:  That's not news.
Rushton:  She made one for the second peep, too.
Me:  Again, not news.
Rushton:  She made one for Andy.
Me:  Nope, that's stupid but not newsworthy.  She's just kooky enough to do something like that.
Rushton:  Andy ate it.
Me:  Now that IS news!
Rushton:  I knew it!!!  Too bad it isn't true.

MOUSES!!!

So I went back to pouring through the local paper, all the while thinking to myself, I bet the reporters writing for this paper would be allowed to ask the Prime Minister questions on account of their being local, not to mention the fact that they're peeps.

I read in the police blotter report kind of thingy in one local paper that some armoured guards had to call the police on account of their accidentally locking themselves inside the bank* or something like that.  It occurred to me that that's just the kind of thing that could happen to my Peep #1 if she were an armoured guard but since she isn't, it probably wasn't her.  MOUSES!

Actually, I'm pretty glad it wasn't my peep on account of such an incident being really embarrassing.  I don't know how a kitty can face the neighbourhood kitties after their peep does something silly like that.  It's enough to make a kitty the laughing stock of the neighbourhood, for sure.

At some point later on, Anderson came into the room looking for his copy of the book he, Rushton and I are reading for our Kitty Lit. 101 course.  The book we're supposed to be reading.  Andy hasn't started reading his yet.  I, on the other paw, am almost finished mine.  Unfortunately, Andy's slacking wasn't news, either.

I tossed Andy's book at him and he caught it, mid-air.  He then trotted out of my office like a puppy carrying a prize.

I gazed out my office window, hoping inspiration would hit me.

That's when Rushton came running in, skidded to a stop and slapped me on the back of my head.  I momentarily wondered if Rushton was, in fact, inspiration herself.  Momentarily, mind you.   I came to my senses quickly enough.  Rushy is a boy and I'm pretty sure Inspiration is a lady.

"I know what you can blog about!" Rushton cried.  "You can blog about our doctor's appointment last week."

I peered at my brother and narrowed my eyes.  "You sure you want me to tell the world what you weigh?  The nurse weighed you, remember?  And remember the look on the doctor's face when she saw it written down?  Before she realised that was including the carrier, that is.

Rushton and I decided that blogging about our doctor's appointment would not be news after all even though we were both very good and no peeps were harmed during the visit.  And I'd just like to point out that Rushy weighs a whole pound more than I.  He's claiming it's all floof but I have other suspicions.

Needless to say, I overheard the peeps talking about encouraging Rushy to go for more walks with them around and about in the yard.  MOUSES!

I closed my eyes and scrunched up my nose.  About what could I blog?  What?  WHAT?  I had nothing on paw.

Peep #1's sweet peas are blooming.  Nothing newsworthy about that.  It's raining again.  Pouring, in fact.  Most definitely nothing newsy about that.  Constance ate a mosquito.  Hmm...  Could I write a blog post about a mosquito eating cat?

Nah, I had nothing.  NOTHING.  Nadda.  Not a thing.  My mind was as blank as the computer screen before me.  MOUSES!  What was I going to do?  Was I going to write about nothing at all?

Could one write a blog post about absolutely nothing?  Hmmm...

And that's when it hit me.  Inspiration, that is.  Not Rushton re-entering the room.

Yup, Inspiration whacked me on the side of my head on her way out.  She whacked me in the head as she walked out of my office, muttering something about checking out Vegas with Old Lady Luck.  MOUSES!

It occurred to me then that I could offer my teleportation services for a small, modest fee.  "You need transportation to Vegas, ladies?  I'll teleport you over for a mere fifteen percent cut!  Twelve? Ten?  Nine?  Awww...   MOUSES!"

So that's my blog post for today, my friends.  A post about nothing.  Nothing at all.  I'm hoping to do better on Wednesday.  MOUSES!



* Crime Report by Heather Killam, The Annapolis County Spectator, Nova Scotia.

the cheekiness of squirrels

It has come to my attention that the mainstream news outlets have been remiss in their coverage of a very important story.

Hmmm...  Been remiss? That may be a bit of an understatement.  A very big understatement, in fact.  They haven't been coverin' this breaking story at all!  Crazy, that is.  Crazier than a squirrel makin' nut pies kinda crazy, for sure.

Yes, my friends, we are talking 'bout squirrels.  MOUSES!

All I can say is, thank goodness for Twitter.

Havin' been in contact with several pals from around the world, it has come to my attention that this issue at paw is of international importance.  An epidemic of global proportions and yet, like I said, the mainstream news has completely ignored the phenomenon.  The phenomenon that is, the cheekiness of squirrels.  MOUSES!

Pals from the United Kingdom and the United States of America are reportin' that squirrels in their nations are actin' cheekily.  Only a matter of time before they start actin' all squirrelly, too.

I, Nerissa the Cat, reportin' from right here in Nova Scotia, Canada, can attest to the fact that Canadian squirrels are followin' global trends and bein' cheeky, as well.

And the cause of all this cheekiness?  As of yet, scientists don't know.  Further observation is needed and more data is required however one theory is that squirrels throughout the northern hemisphere are all suffering from a serious case of spring fever.  The other workin' theory is that... Well...  That they're squirrels.  They're just squirrels bein' squirrels and actin' all cheeky.  MOUSES!

You know, squirrels are kinda known for their cheekiness.  They get away with a lot of it on account of their cuteness.  Their cuteness factor per ounce outweighs most species.  Hard to stay angry with a squirrel no matter how cheeky he gets.

A couple weeks ago, I had a squirrel come right up to my office window.  RIGHT UP TO THE WINDOW!  He was lookin' in and spyin' on me and whatnot.  He even tapped on it.  Morse Code, I do believe but it was all messed up so that I couldn't understand him.  Squirrel Morse Code is different from normal Morse Code, you see.  Squirrels just tap out gibberish thinkin' cats and peeps can read their minds.  Bunch of dashes and dots makin' no sense at all.  Whatever he was sayin', it all sounded Greek to me.

Then just yesterday, I was lookin' out that very same window and I thought, for a moment, that I was seein' an unfamiliar cat.  That's right folks, I thought I saw a puddy cat.

Turned out to be a really big squirrel, instead.  MOUSES!

Yes, those cheeky squirrels here in Nova Scotia are big.  They're of the big grey variety.  We used to have little red guys and some folks still do but at my house, the grey ones have invaded and taken over.  Haven't seen a red squirrel in over a year.  MOUSES!

A word of advice.  Whatever you do, always approach a cheeky squirrel with caution.  You don't wanna get 'em upset.  You don't wanna make 'em angry.  You don't wanna give 'em reason to fight.

Those big grey squirrels will sit up on the branches of an oak tree and start hurlin' acorns down at you.  The acorns will rain down upon your head.  You ever witness a scene like that?  I have and let's just say, Peep #1 needed a couple Aspirin after the fact.

Unfortunately, the peeps 'round here have angered the squirrel population and they're demandin' their voices be heard.

Did I say peeps?  Actually, I meant peep.  It was Peep #1 to be exact.

Yesterday afternoon was a lovely sunny day here in the valley and the peep headed outside with a saw in her paw.  It's just a little saw that she has.  Can't trust her with anythin' much bigger but you'd be surprised at the amount of chaos she's capable of causin' with the little one she has.

So the peep headed out to the front of the yard and started whackin' away at the lower branches of some spruce trees.  Makin' way for the plantin' of more primroses, I do believe.  The primrose bed in question is still partially covered in snow which is a whole other story but back to the spruce trees, the peep and her saw.

She sawed and she sawed and she sawed, removing the lower four feet or so of branches.  I checked it out afterwards and have to admit that it looks pretty good.  Well it does to me but to the squirrels?  They are of an entirely different opinion.

The squirrels arrived this morning in full force.  "Where are our branches?" they loudly demanded.

I tried to come to Peep #1's defence, pointing out to the squirrels that those particular branches were not zoned for residential use as they were too close to the ground.  It's a cat zone.  Squirrels should never build in cat zones as the insurance premiums are far too costly.

But the squirrels weren't listenin'.  They claim they never intended to build homes in that area but rather, that those branches were part of their transportation network.  Access roads to their superhighways and whatnot. Who knew that squirrels had access roads?  MOUSES!

Long story short, the peep has got the squirrel community all riled up.  Only a matter of time before this thing escalates.  Only a matter of time before the peep, once again, falls prey to a squirrelly acorn attack.

And will I, Nerissa the Cat, come to her defence?

Probably not.  I saw the last one and although not pretty, it was definitely entertainin'.  Remind me to order in a cheesy nip pizza and some nipbrewskis for the occasion.  Gonna be prime time Squirrel TV, for sure.  MOUSES!

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

Please remember that throughout the month of April, a portion of all sales of the book Rescued: The Stories of 12 Cats, Through Their Eyes will go to the wonderful Anjellicle Cats Rescue of New York, helpin' them to help save cats' lives.  You can purchase your very own copy at your local book store or on Amazon by clicking right HERE.  You'll wanna stock up for holiday gift-giving, for sure.  PURRS.