how rude

Don't think I didn't see that, Peepers.  Don't think I didn't see.  I saw it just fine.  I saw what you did, right now.  I saw what you did, for sure.

That's right, Peepers.  I SAW how you made a face when I breathed in your...

Well...

Face.

MOUSES!

Look Peepers, just because YOU don't like the aroma of fish breath, doesn't mean it doesn't smell good.

MOUSES!

Not my fault I just polished off a tin of tuna.

So okay, it IS kinda my fault, 'cause I did willingly eat the whole plate, but...

But the thing is...

The thing is, tuna breath is really not a bad thing!

MOUSES!

Not my fault you don't appreciate fine dining at its...

Well...

Finest.

MOUSES!

Look Peepers, aside from the fact that had you not picked me up to give me an excessive number of cuddles and kisses - And please note the word, EXCESSIVE.  PUH-LEASE! - I wouldn't even have breathed in your face.  And ergo, ipso facto, YOU wouldn't have smelled my tuna breath in the first place.

BUT THAT DOESN'T MATTER, 'cause like I said before, tuna breath is not such a bad thing.  It basically means I ate tuna and I, Seville the Cat, LIKE eatin' tuna.  'Specially when you give me the good stuff: flaked albacore white packed in water, not oil, from the peep grocery store aisle.

SO BASICALLY, my tuna breath is nothin' short of a GLORIOUS thing.  Something to be cherished and relished on account of its very existence meaning I ate tuna, which is somethin' I LIKE to do, and...

Well...

Well MOUSES!

Besides, tuna breath is by far better than most kinda breaths.  Garlic breath, onion breath, that sorta thing.  You'll never catch MY breath stinkin' of onion.

MOUSES!

AND WHAT'S MORE...

What's more, screwin' up your nose like you did at the smell of my breath, no matter what kinda breath my breath might be, is rude.

RUDE.

RUDE, I tell you.

RUDE!

So don't go doin' it again, okay?

Okay.

MOUSES!

Hey Peepers, if you really wanna be helpful, how 'bout pawin' over a sprig of fresh nip or somethin' like that.  'CAUSE EVEN THOUGH I KNOW my tuna breath is just fine, nippy catnip breath is even better.

MOUSES!

quality control

Woah.

WOAH!

Woah, that's some good stu.....

ZOOM!!!

Whatcha doin'?  Where you at?  Whatcha...

ZOOM!!!

*Boing!  Boing!  Boing!*

Whaaaaahhhhhhhhh???

Zzzz...

WHO'S THERE?

Is that a bug?  That a skeeter?  Ach, it's just a speck of dirt.  Bleh.

Zzzz...

Purrs.

Like I said, Peepers, that's some really good stuff.

*hiccup!*

But while you're here, Peepers, you wanna fetch me a snack?  I appear to have a big case of the munchies.

MOUSES!

Oh hello there, my friends.  You caught me in the middle of uh...

Um...

Doin' a little quality control, if you know what I mean.

MOUSES!

You remember those nip plants I was growin'?  You know the ones.  The plants I've been growin' all by myself, all summer long?


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

*hiccup!*

I HAVE TO BEEN GROWIN' THEM ALL BY MYSELF.  Any and all help - if you wanna call it that - you've provided has been under MY CAREFUL SUPERVISION, not to mention my direct orders.  I have to supervise very carefully when you're near those nip plants, ol' peep, for fear of you doin' somethin' to kill 'em or somethin' like that.

In case you hadn't realized it, Peepers, you're not very good at growin' the nip.

MOUSES!

Now where was I?

Oh yeah.  I was tellin' my pals out there how I was doin' a little quality control.  Basically, I had the peep nip off...  NIP off...  Hahahaha...  That's funny.  You know, 'cause I had her nip off a bit of the nip.  Hahaha...

Now where was I?

Oh yeah, I had the peep nip off a spent flower bud on one of my nip plants, so that I could test it out.  And boy-oh-boy...

Boy-oh-boy...

BOY-OH-BOY that's some really good stuff!

I grew myself some PRIMO CATNIP, for sure.

MOUSES!

Only problem is...

NOW that I've tried some of my very own supply...

Fresh from the garden...  I mean, my purrsonal nip farm, and everythin'...

Well now I've gone and spoiled myself rotten.  I'll never be able to look at run-of-the-mill, over-the-counter catnip again.


Gosh darn it.

MOUSES!

*****

And in other, TOTALLY UNRELATED news....

A number of cats have been seen wanderin' the neighbourhood, eyes glazed over, lookin' for snacks.

MOUSES!

gimme, gimme, gimme

Gimme, gimme, gimme.

Gimme some treats, man.

I mean, Peepers.

I mean...

Please?

Yeah, that's it.  Gimme some treats, please.  'CAUSE I REALLY NEED THE TREATS.  MOUSES!

Earlier that evenin'...

Gimme, gimme, gimme.

GIMME, GIMME, GIMME.

GIMME, GIMME, GIMME.

Just a wee bit more there, Peepers.  Just a tad.

That's a tad?

Hmmm...

Just a wee bit MORE than a tad, then.

Please.

Okay, so when I say wee, I actually mean more than...  Than that.  Another leaf, please.

That's a leaf?  I can barely see it!  I'm havin' to squint, and everythin'.


Okay, so how 'bout several leaves?  Yeah, several more leaves.  Several more leaves that are bigger than that.

PEEPERS, DON'T BE STINGY WITH THE NIP.

MOUSES!

And so it was, after the peep brought in fresh sprigs of catnip for all of us cats.

I, of course, ate mine with delight.

That's right, I ate it.  I literally ate it.  Every last bite.

And then I needed more.

So I went over and ate Mason's, too.

Silly girl, all she did was sniff hers.

Oh sure, she sniffed it a lot.  But she didn't use up all the scent with her sniffin'.  Nope, it still smelled like catnip, for sure.

Little wrinkled, perhaps, but worth eatin', nonetheless.

And THANKFULLY, she didn't slobber all over it.

FYI, slobber is the reason I did NOT even attempt to eat Andy's when he was through with his.

MOUSES!

But anyway...

But anyway, do you know what happens to a kitty when a kitty eats two fresh sprigs of the nip?  Two sprigs, plus a few extra leaves, said kitty manages to get his peep to give him.

Well...

WELL A KITTY GETS THE MUNCHIES, for sure.

MOUSES!

Which is why I am now IN NEED of some treats.

GIMME, GIMME, GIMME.

PEEPERS, GIMME SOME TREATS.

Please.

MOUSES!

happy birthday!

Happy Birthday to me...

Happy Birthday to me...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY dear ME...

Happy Birthday...

To...

Ooooooooo...

M...

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

It is so.

Yes it is.

Is too.

Okay, so maybe it isn't.

MOUSES!

But Peepers, as a Canadian Kitty, Canada Day SHOULD be about me.  If Canada is havin' a birthday, I, Seville the Cat - a kitty who is one hundred percent and TOTALLY Canadian - should be havin'...

It's not the same thing, you say, huh?

Awww...  MOUSES!

*sighs*

*sighs again but more LOUDLY*

Fine.

So Ms. Know-it-all-Peeperoni-Peepers, tell me this:  Is there a special birthday song for Canada on Canada Day?

The National Anthem?

Nah, that can't be right.  Peeps sing the Canadian National Anthem three hundred and sixty-five days of the year.  Three hundred and sixty-six, in years divisible by four.  The National Anthem can't be used as a birthday song, too.  I mean, no one can have a birthday every day of the year.  That's just about the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.

Boy-oh-boy, Peepers.  You sure do come up with some doozies.

MOUSES!

No, The Birthday Song, it is.

Only, you know..,  The Birthday Song for Canada, instead of for me.

I guess.

MOUSES!

But all is not lost there, Peepers, 'cause you know what?

You don't?

Well let me tell you what's what.

Canada Day is a day for CELEBRATIN', for sure.  Canada's one hundred and fifty-first birthday is a day for celebratin' like...  LIKE A HUNDRED AND FIFTY-ONE TIMES!

And do you know what one has when one is celebratin'?

Cake, you say?

Huh.  Right.  Unless it's a tuna fish cake with nippy cream cheese frostin', I'm not interested.  Cake is not what I was thinkin' about there, Peepers.  No sirree.

I was thinkin' more along the lines of...

Fireworks?

MOST CERTAINLY NOT.  I, Seville the Cat, am not a fan of fireworks of any kind.  Fireworks are scary as all get out.  We cats have very sensitive ears, you see, and...

Picnics and BBQs?  And neighbourhood family gatherings?

What the mouses do you think I am, Peepers?  A DOG?

MOUSES!

No Peepers, for celebratin', we have...

THE NIP.

Yup, when celebratin', we have catnip, for sure.  That's right.  Canada is havin`a birthday, and there's no better way for a kitty to celebrate Canada's one hundred and fifty-first birthday than for a kitty to get out the catnip, and GET HIMSELF NIPPED.

MOUSES!

No, Peepers.  No.  No, you may not have any of my nip.  Go drink your lemonade.  Or whatever that stupid stuff is.

MOUSES!

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

HAPPY CANADA DAY EVERYBODY!

And just for fun, I've turned the three pictures from this here blog post into jigsaw puzzles!  Click HERE for the first one, HERE for the second, and HERE for the third.  ENJOY!  

where's Mason?

Previously, on Nerissa's Life:   The hand withdrew back into the cloud from whence it had come, carrying both cats along with it.  Off in the distance, Mason and Seville could hear Peep #1 calling their names once more.  Seville felt a tear roll down his cheek as he listened to the peep's cries growing fainter and fainter by the second.  Would he and his sister ever see Peep #1 again?


"Oof.  OUCH!  Watch it there, buddy.  Just who do you think you are?"

In response, the cloud figure pushed Seville once more, causing him to stumble over his front paws.

"I'm tellin' ya," Seville growled, "one more shove like that, and things 'round here are gonna get REALLY messy.  MOUSES!"

Seville studied the corridor down which he was being led.  The walls were padded with white and dark grey clumps of something familiar.  "Clouds.  That's what they are," he murmured to himself.  "The walls look like the edges of a cloud.  I must be inside the storm cloud."

Now remembering exactly what had happened earlier when the giant hand had grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, pulling Seville and his sister into the belly of the cloud, he looked about for Mason.  "Hey.  You.  Yeah, YOU!" he said to the cloud figure.  "Where's my sister Mason?  I want to see Mason right now."

Getting no response from the cloud figure but another shove forward, Seville reached a paw out to touch one of the corridor walls.  Although the wall looked solid, it wasn't, and his paw went straight through, disappearing behind white foam.  Withdrawing his paw, he noticed a small puddle form on the floor, directly below the spot he had touched.

"Uh, just so you know there, buddy...  I didn't do that.  Well, I kinda did do that, but what I really mean is, I DIDN'T DO what you might think I did.  That there's water on the floor.  Nothin' yellow 'bout it.  MOUSES!"

The cloud figure remained silent but pushed Seville forward once more, apparently just for good measure.

"So uh...  So is this here some kinda Wizard of Oz sorta thing?  You know, like when Dorothy and Toto were transported off to the Land of Oz?  TAKE ME TO THE WIZARD!" Seville chuckled, thrusting a paw into the air.  "First though, I want you to take me to my sister.  Where is she?  I WANNA SEE MY SISTER, AND I WANNA SEE HER NOW."

Grabbing Seville by the shoulder, the cloud figure brought the cat to a stop.  The billowy hand pulled back on Seville's right shoulder ever-so-slightly, forcing him to face the right wall.  It then pushed Seville toward it.

Just as Seville's paw had gone straight through the cloud-like wall earlier, he found his entire body could pass through the wall, and before he knew it, he and the cloud figure were standing in a room, completely empty, save for a large, golden, throne-like chair.  And on that chair sat...

"MASON!" Seville cried, excitedly, as he ran forward to where his sister sat.  Giving Mason a huge hug, he asked, "Oh my mouses, Mason, is it really you?  I was so worried 'bout you.  What are you doin' here in this room?"

Seville took a step back.  "Mason...  MASON.  Mason, are you like this cloud's wizard?  I mean, I jokingly asked the storm guy here to take me to the wizard, and where he brought me was straight to you.  MOUSES!"

Mason grinned from ear to ear.  "This place is great, Seville.  You ask for nip, and do you know what you get?  NIP!  I asked for a big plate of it, earlier, and you should have seen what they brought me.  The service here is incredible.  It's like a five star hotel!  These storm guys really know how to treat a cat right."

"Maybe for you," Seville grumbled, "but I haven't been treated all that well.  They've just been shovin' me around.  And I haven't been given a single nip leaf since we arrived, and boy-oh-boy could I ever do with some.  And..."

Seville interrupted himself by scratching behind an ear with a paw.  "Mason, just how long have we been in this here storm cloud, anyway?  You've had time to chow down on an entire plate of nip?  REALLY?  I thought we just arrived."

Mason waved Seville's worries off with a paw.  "Oh, we've been here for ages.  Couple of hours, at least.  You were unconscious when we first arrived."

"UNCONSCIOUS!" Seville cried out, indignantly.  "I MOST CERTAINLY WAS NOT."

"Well then you must have been napping," Mason stated.  "I had assumed you had knocked your head on something on the way up here, but maybe you simply decided to take a nap."  She scowled.  "I know you like your naps, but everything has a time and place, and.."

"FINE.  I was unconscious, then."  Seville looked about before asking, "So uh...  You think I could get some of that nip, too?"

"Probably not," Mason answered, wiping a little nip juice from the corner of her mouth.  "Now that you're awake, they'll," and she pointed to two cloud figures hovering near where Seville had been pushed through the wall, earlier, from the corridor, "They'll want to take us to see..."

"The wizard?" queried Seville.

Mason narrowed her eyes.  "Wizard?  WIZARD?  What is it with you and wizards, today?  No, they'll want to take us to see..."  Mason coughed, and lowering her voice she added, "You know, him."

"Who's him?  I mean, he?  You know what I mean."  It was now Seville's turn to lower his voice.  "And why are you suddenly whispering?"

"I don't know," Mason answered with a sing-song voice.  Hopping down from the chair, or throne, or whatever it was, she pawed her way across the room toward the cloud figures.  "Let's go," she told them.  "It's time for Seville and me to meet..."

"WHAT THE MOUSES ARE YOU DOIN'?" Seville yelled, grabbing his sister by the tail.  "You can't just waltz around here with these cloud people things.  For starters, they're pushy as all get out," he told her, rubbing the back of one shoulder where he had earlier received a particularly hard push.  "Plus, they don't answer any of your questions.  Actually, they don't appear to talk at all!"  Seville stepped back and looked closely at his sister.  "Mason, are you still high from that plate of nip they gave you?  Huh?  HUH?  HUH?  Well, ARE you?"

Mason waved off her brother's questions.  "All will be answered in good time.  Come on," and she grabbed Seville by a paw.  "It's time for us to go meet this wizard."

"Wizard.  WIZARD.  I KNEW IT!  I knew there was some kinda wizard lurkin' about 'round here," Seville muttered.

Moments later, Seville found himself being dragged through the cloud wall once more.  He and Mason were now heading down the very same long corridor he had travelled along before, but this time Mason was leading the way, instead of the cloud figures pushing him forward.  Seville did his best to keep a healthy distance between himself and the cloud people, just in case one decided to reach forward and give him another prod.

Off in the distance, Seville thought he could see what appeared to be the end of the corridor.  Would the mysterious wizard be on the other side?  And why-oh-why did he live inside a cloud?  And more importantly, WHAT DID HE WANT WITH TWO CATS?  MOUSES!

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

We interrupt our regular programming for...

CANADA DAY!

As Canada Day falls on Nerissa's Life's next scheduled publishing day, Part III of our story won't be available this Sunday.  Instead, it will be broadcast, live, on Wednesday July 4th.  Please be sure to tune in, then.  MOUSES!

a storm approaches

From inside the house, Mason called out to her brother.  "Seville!  Peep #1 says you have to come inside.  She says there's a storm heading this way."

Hearing what his sister has said, Seville looked up at the once blue sky.  Black clouds, heavy with moisture, were quickly approaching, and at the same time, the wind was picking up.  He shivered as the temperature suddenly dropped a few degrees.

"Tell her I need to finish waterin' my nip plants, FIRST!" Seville called back.  "I'll be in right after that."

"YOU TELL HER YOURSELF!" Mason yelled back.  "SHE SAID YOU HAVE TO COME INSIDE, NOW."

The wind had begun to howl, and Seville could barely hear his sister.  "WHAT?" he yelled out, but Mason had already retreated indoors.  Shrugging his shoulders, Seville went back to watering his catnip plants.  Moments later, a roofing tile flew past his head.  "Gosh, it really is gettin' stormy out here," he muttered.  "I had best hurry up and finish wa..."

Another roofing tile flew past, this one nearly smacking Seville in the head.  "HEY!  WATCH WHAT YOU'RE DOIN'!" he yelled out to no one in particular.  "Peeps aren't gonna be happy if they have to retile the roof.  MOUSES!"

Moments later, Seville noticed a dark shadow on the ground.  He looked up at the sky again, and saw a particularly ominous looking cloud stalled directly overhead.  "My gosh, if that thing lets loose, the rain will be torrential.  It'll be a deluge!  Perhaps I had best stop waterin' these nip plants for now," he murmured as he put the watering can down on the ground.

Seville stood there in the garden.  He looked up at the cloud once more.  It was huge.  Tilting his head to the right, and then to the left, he thought he saw something moving within it.  The cloud looked almost as if it had a face.  "Now that's weird," he thought aloud.  "Whoever heard of a cloud with a face?  Must be an optical illusion or somethin' like that.  Like the man in the moon, or..."

"MOUSES!" Seville yelled.  He watched in horror as what looked like a giant hand began to form at the outer edges of the cloud.  Slowly but surely, what appeared to be an arm attached to the hand, grew longer and longer and longer, reaching out toward where Seville stood motionless, paralysed by fear.

"LOOK OUT!" Mason cried as she came careening toward her brother.  She pushed him out of the way moments before the giant cloud hand could reach him.  "What the heck is that thing?" she whispered as the two cats crouched behind one of Peep #1's tomato plants.   "It looks scary.  I've never seen anything like it before."

"Mason...  Seville..."

The cats could hear Peep #1 calling to them.  Even though the peep was only as far away as the back door, her cries sounded far more distant, her voice being carried off in the opposite direction by the wind.

"Peepers is callin' us," Seville whispered to Mason.  "You think we can make a run for it and get to safety?"

Mason shook her head.  "Uh-uh, I don't think we should risk it.   We should stay right here, where we're hidden by this tomato plant."

Seville wrinkled his nose.  "Gosh these tomatoes are stinky things.  Gonna take me hours of washin' up to get the tomato stink out of my fur.  I'll take catnip over tomato plant leaves any time.  Don't know why the peep insists on growin' such stupid stuff when she could be growin' us nip."

Mason nodded in agreement but out of the corner of one eye, she kept watch as the giant hand attached to the storm cloud felt its way around the garden, giant fingers creeping along the soil.  She whispered, "That thing...  That hand...  It doesn't look very friendly.  It might grab us if we come out of hiding."

A few seconds later, the hand reached Seville's catnip plants.  Carefully, it picked one up, holding the plant between the tips of its fingers, dangling it in the air.

"YOU GIVE THAT BACK!" Seville hollered, revealing the two cats' hiding spot.

Responding to Seville's cry, the giant hand dropped the catnip plant.  Reaching over to the tomato plant behind which the cats were hiding, it pulled the plant right out of the ground, and flung it across the garden, fully exposing both cats.  It then grasped Seville by the scruff of his neck.

"HEY!  HEY!  LET GO OF ME!" Seville screamed.  He struggled to get out of the hand's grasp, but the hand was simply too big and too strong.  Moments later, Seville felt himself being lifted off the ground and into the air.

"YOU LET MY BROTHER GO!" Mason yelled.  "YOU LET HIM GO RIGHT NOW!"  Leaping up, Mason grabbed Seville around his waist, hoping the combined weight of the two cats would force the cloud hand to let them go.  Instead, the hand carried both cats higher and higher up in the air.  Mason held onto Seville for dear life, her claws digging into his marmalade fur.

Quickly and efficiently, the hand withdrew back into the cloud from whence it had come, carrying both cats along with it.

Off in the distance, Mason and Seville could hear Peep #1 calling their names once more.  Seville felt a tear roll down his cheek as he listened to the peep's cries growing fainter and fainter by the second.  Would he and his sister ever see Peep #1 again?

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

Be sure to tune in this comin' Wednesday for Part II of my latest adventure.  Purrs.

red alert!

Red alert!

RED ALERT!

Peepers!  WE HAVE A MOUSIE-MOUSIN' MOUSES, FULL ON, RED ALERT!

Call the police!

Call the air force!

Call in CSIS if you have to.  And while you're at it, call in the USS Enterprise, too.

MOUSES!

What?  What's that, Peepers?  What am I babblin' on about now, you ask?

What am I babblin' on about?  I?  I?  I as in me?

MOUSES!

First of all, Peepers, I, Seville the Cat, do not babble.  I leave the babblin' to you peeps.

MOUSES!

Secondly, Peepers, I don't care for the tone of your voice.  You're makin' it sound like I'M OVERREACTIN' or somethin' like that.  I, Seville the Cat, do not overreact.  I leave the overreactin' to you peeps.

MOUSES!

And thirdly...

Well...

Well never mind about that.  I need to get right to the point, Peepers, on account of my havin' a full-blown, mousie-mousin', red alert EMERGENCY on my paws.

Peepers, ANDY AND RUSHY HAVE DISCOVERED THE NIP.

MOUSES!

No, not nip in general.  Don't be so silly, Peepers.  Those two long-haired marmie freaks didn't suddenly discover the existence of nip.  They've always known 'bout nip existin', and all.  They've always been nipheads, too, in case that little fact had slipped out of your head.

But back to my point.

Peepers, the nip those two nipheads have suddenly discovered, is mine.

No, Peepers, not my personal stash.  Thank goodness they haven't discovered that, they...

Wait a minute.  WAIT A MOUSIE MOUSIN' MOUSES MINUTE.  PEEPERS, HOW THE MOUSES DO YOU KNOW, I HAVE A PERSONAL STASH?

You been snooping 'round my office, Peepers?

WELL, HAVE YOU?

Awww...  Never mind.  Never mind about that, for we have more important things to discuss.

Now back to those two long-haired brothers of mine.

But don't be thinkin' you're off the hook, Peepers.  We'll discuss your snoopin', later.

MOUSES!

Now, where was I?

Oh yeah.

Andy and Rushy have found...

They've found...

THEY'VE FOUND...

THEY'VE FOUND MY BABY NIP PLANTS IS WHAT THEY'VE FOUND.

MOUSES!

Peepers, I looked out the front door this mornin', and what did I see?  I saw those two long-haired marmie freaks, workin' together to dislodge the protective coverin', coverin' my baby nips.  You know, that tray I covered 'em with.  That plant tray I so carefully placed over the pots.  The plant tray that was supposed to keep maraudin' long-haired freaks out of my grow-op.  You know the one?

Yeah, that would be it

Well, those two brothers of mine managed to get the tray off the plants, and the next thing I knew...

The next thing I knew...

Oh my mouses, it's too terrifyin' to repeat.

The next thing I knew, Rushy had his face right in one of my pots of the nip.

And when he lifted his head?

Oh my gosh, THE HORROR.  It's bringin' tears to my eyes, just rememberin'.

When he lifted his head, HE WAS DROOLIN' THE JUICE OF THE NIP!  That's right, he had nip juice drippin' from BOTH SIDES of his mouth.

I was mortified.  I was HORRIFIED.  I almost fainted, right there and right then.  I almost....

No Peepers, I'm am NOT overreactin'.  You take that back.  Like I said earlier, I, Seville the Cat, do not overreact.  I leave the overreactin' to peeps.

Which, by the way, you might be doin' sometime soon.

Why?

Well...

Uh...

Well let's just say, I had to chase those two long-haired marmie freaks away from my precious nip plants and I did so by giving 'em both the smacky-paw of all smacky-paws, right on their backs.  And when they ran off...

Well...

Well they ran right through your stupid lettuce plants.

You weren't plannin' on eatin' those any time soon, were you?

They were kinda stupid.

The lettuce plants, I mean.

MOUSES!

ten, nine, eight...

Seven, six, five...

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

GERMINATION!

We HAVE germination, my friends.  I repeat, WE HAVE GERMINATION.

MOUSES!

And the peep didn't think I could do it.

Well I sure showed her wrong.

Ha!  Silly ol' peep.

MOUSES!

As many of you know, my Peep #1 is totally useless when it comes to growin' the nip.  And when I say totally, I mean, TOTALLY.  And when I say useless, I mean...

Well...

Well I mean WORSE than useless, for sure.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, a couple months back, I decided to take nip growin' matters into my own four paws and start growin' the nip, myself, on account of my bein' a cat that REALLY NEEDS his nip.

And also on account of the peep not bein' able to grow it for me.

MOUSES!

Now my fur-sibs had their doubts 'bout my nip-growin' skills, as did the peep, but I figured that whatever happened, I was bound to do better than Ol' Peepers, on account of her total lack of nip-growin' skills, causin' her to be able to grow absolutely nothin'.

And when I say nothin', I mean NOTHIN', as in a nadda wadda nincompoop, nothin' at all.

And speakin' of nincompoops, you've met my first peep, have you?

MOUSES!

But back to that nip.

My fur-sibs were sayin' stuff like, Seville, if the peep can't grow nip, how will you?  And, But Seville, you don't even know HOW to grow the nip.

Well I thought 'bout what they were sayin' for a bit before giving 'em a reply, and my reply was, How HARD can it be?  I just have to do the exact opposite of whatever was done by the peep.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, I got myself some plant pots, and filled 'em with bags of pottin' mix.

Interestin' fact:  Did you know that bags of kitty litter look a lot like bags of pottin' mix?  Yeah, neither did I.  BUT I DO NOW.  MOUSES!

Well I tossed out that ol' litter and filled up the plant pots with the proper pottin' mix, planted me some nip seeds, and set the pots outside on the veranda.  Then it was time to play that ol' game called, waiting.

Interestin' fact:  Did you know that the waitin' game is not an actual game?  Not only that, it's not the least bit fun to play.  Yeah, neither did I.  BUT I DO NOW.  MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, I settled myself down, and started to wait.

And wait.

AND WAIT.

I waited for like an ETERNITY, for sure.

In fact, I waited so long, I was beginnin' to think our house must be jinxed or something, 'cause absolutely NOTHIN' was happenin' at all!  I was even startin' to think that maybe - just maybe - the peep's inability to grow the nip was not entirely her fault.

MOUSES!

But then the other day, my prayers were answered, my friends.  My prayers were answered, for sure!  The other mornin', I went to check on my nip pots - as I have been doin' every day, twice a day, for I don't know how long - and...

And I found little bits of green comin' out of the soil!  Yes, my friends, little bits of nippy fresh green!

Well I did a little jig.  Right there on the spot!

Interestin' fact:  Did you know that a cat doin' a gig on said cat's front veranda attracts the attention of all said cat's neighbours?  Yeah, neither did I.  BUT I DO NOW.  MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, I finished doin' my gig before shooin' away those gawkin' neighbours, then dashed inside the house to tell everyone the good news.

WE HAVE GERMINATION!  WE HAVE GERMINATION!  THE NIP SEEDS ARE GERMINATIN', FOR SURE.  MOUSES!

Yup, that's just what I said.  I said it exactly like that, too.

And ANY DAY NOW, I'm expectin' my first crop of nip, and...

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

What chickens?  I don't have no chickens.  And why should I be countin' chickens I don't even have?

I should be countin' their eggs?  No, the eggs in the fridge?  Peepers, do you need me to count the fridge eggs for you, so you know how many you have?  Are you plannin' on makin' me a nip omelet or somethin'?  Maybe a souffle?  Can you not count those eggs all by yourself?  Do you not have enough claws with which to count?

What?

WHAT?

Awww...  MOUSES!

Apparently, accordin' to the peep, this nip growin' business is not as easy as I first thought.  APPARENTLY, gettin' the seeds to germinate was only the first step.  Now I have to GROW the plants to a harvestable size.

There's always a catch, my friends.

ALWAYS A CATCH.

MOUSES!

the pragmatist

"You're ever the optimist Seville, aren't you."

Are you askin' me a question, there, Mason?  Or are you just callin' me names?  Or are...  Wait a minute.  Callin' me an optimist isn't callin' me names.  Least not in a bad way.  So uh...  Exactly about what am I bein' optimistic, pray tell.

"Well I see you've placed an order to Nip Seeds & Stuff."

Actually, what I really did was place ANOTHER order to Nip Seeds & Stuff.  The first two orders, they messed up.

"They did?  How?"

They sent the seeds to the peep.  MOUSES!

Mason furrowed her brow.  "How was that messing things up?"

You have met the peep, right?  You do know 'bout her lack of nip-growin' skills?  Sendin' nip seeds to the peep is like pushing 'em in front of a firin' squad or somethin'.  Peep #1 has never met a nip seed she couldn't kill.  MOUSES!

Mason nodded in agreement.  "Then why are you placing another order?  Won't she kill those seeds as readily as she killed the others?"

If she gets her paws on 'em, she will.  Thing is, THESE SEEDS, I'm gonna plant myself.  I'm gonna make sure these little babies are planted right.  MOUSES!

"Have you ever actually planted anything before, Seville?  When it comes to gardening, you usually take on more of a supervisory role."

You take that back.  I've gotten my paws dirty MORE than once.  I've dug my fair share of holes in the garden beds, for sure.

Plus, occasionally...  Occasionally I've even been known to assist with the fertilizin', too.  MOUSES!

"FYI Sivvers, the peep doesn't consider what you left amongst the primroses to be fertiliser," Mason scowled.

Poop is poop, Mason.  I don't make the rules.  MOUSES!

But anyway...  Anyway, what else am I supposed to do?  And I'm talkin' about the growin' the seeds myself bit, not that other...  You know...  Other unmentionable thing.  It's not like I can teach the peep how to grow nip. 

Or CAN I...

Hmmm...

Nah, I tried signin' her up for that course or whatever it was on Facebook, but it turned out to be a class in growin' grass, and NOT the kinda cat grass we cats like, but that other kind.  You know...  The pans and skillets type.

"For the love of mouses, WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT Seville?  Seriously, sometimes I wonder about you."

And sometimes I wonder 'bout you, too, Mason.  Like how come you can't understand a simple explanation of the facts when I explain 'em to you.  Fact is, I signed the peep up for some kinda Facebook course or event on growin' legalised non-cat cat grass, and she TOTALLY IGNORED it, for sure.  She just clicked the delete button like it had never even been there.  MOUSES!

And that, sister dear, is why I HAVE TO TAKE MATTERS into my own four paws, and grow these babies myself.  MOUSES!

"Whatever."  Mason rolled her eyes.  "Do you have some pots?"

I TOLD YOU, I DON'T NEED NO POTS!

Oh, you mean like flower pots, don't you.  Heheh...  heh...  Uh, yeah.  I have the flower pots the peep used when she killed off the first two batches of seed.  Plus, I have her leftover pottin' mix.  At least I know where it is.  So you see, I'm all set.  As soon as my third nip seed order arrives, I'm good to go.  MOUSES!

"Where are you going, Seville?" Rushton asked as he walked into the room.  "Anywhere nice?"

"Seville is ordering more catnip seed, Rushy," explained Mason.

"You're quite the optimist there, aren't you?" asked Rushton.  "Didn't Peep #1 just kill a bunch of nip seeds?  Are you really going to get her MORE seeds to kill?  Or have you deluded yourself into thinking that THESE ones, she'll manage to grow?"

I just finished explainin' all this stuff to Mason, and I'm not about to explain it all again.

MOUSES!

"Suit yourself," grumbled Rushton, "but I think you're being far too optimistic if you think the peep can learn how to grow catnip.  She has a track record, you know.  And it's not very good."  With that, Rushy turned and left the room.

Maybe I am bein' too optimistic...

Nah, that can't be right.  In fact, I don't think I'm bein' optimistic at all.  If I were bein' optimistic, I'd paw these seeds over to the peep when they arrived, thinkin' she could grow 'em herself.

Maybe what I'm bein' is pessimistic.  Maybe I'm bein' too pessimistic, thinkin' the peep is incapable of ever learnin' how to successfully grow the nip.

Nah, that can't be right, either.  As Rushy said, the peep has a track record.  And it's not very good.  MOUSES!

What I'm really bein' is...

I do believe...

I do believe that what I'm really bein' is a PRAGMATIST.

That's right.  I've accepted the reality of the peep's many failures, and I'm doin' somethin' about it.

MOUSES!

Valentine's Day

Another year, another Valentine's Day.

*sighs*

Another Valentine's Day spent without a Valentine.

*SIGHS*

WOE IS ME.

*SIGHS*

On the other paw, judgin' by some of the stuff I see on television and read on the Internet, not havin' a ladycat to be my Valentine might actually be a good thing.

MOUSES!

I mean, without a Valentine, I have no ladycats constantly naggin' at me, wantin' me to do this, and wantin' me to do that.  Wantin' me to take 'em here and there and everywhere. And COMPLAININ' if I don't.

Although truth be told, Mason is quite the nag.  But Mason is just my sister, so she doesn't count.

At least not in the department of ladycats.

MOUSES!

Actually, Mason's not so much a nag as she is a no good for nothin', judgemental...

Hmmm...  Perhaps I had best not complete that sentence.  After all, this here is a family-friendly blog.

Plus, I really don't wanna get into the details 'bout WHAT Mason was last bein' judgemental, for fear that it might paint me in a...  Um...  In a not quite so pristine light.

But for the record, I did not do it.  No sirree.  It was someone else.  Someone other than me.

MOUSES!

I wonder...

I wonder if Peep #1 could be my Valentine.  Different kinda Valentine, for sure.  After all, she's not a ladycat, and to be the Valentine of a gorgeous marmalade mancat such as myself, bein' a ladycat is a necessity.

And the peep...

Well the peep is just a peep.

It's really not the same thing.

And anyway, as a Valentine, Peep #1 is a TOTAL FAILURE, for sure.  I mean, not even once has she ever given me a box of chocolates.  Although technically, that's a good thing, 'cause chocolates can make a kitty very, very sick.  Or worse.  MOUSES!

But the least she could do would be to buy me a box of treats.

That is if she wanted to be my Valentine.

She could also think 'bout givin' me some flowers.

Well not so much flowers, as nip.

Yeah, if the peep were to be my Valentine, she would need to buy me a great big bouquet of catnip.  It wouldn't need to be of the long-stemmed variety.  In fact, when it comes to the nip, stems are the trashy bits of the plant.  A nip connoisseur such as myself wants nip that's all buds and leaves, if you know what I mean, and none of the trash.

MOUSES!

But still...

The fact remains...

The peep is just a peep.

Hmmm....  It seems to me that I, Seville the Cat, am destined to once again spend Valentine's Day all alone.  All by myself.  All by my lonesome.  Just me.

*sighs*

Another Valentine's Day all on my own.

*SIGHS*

Another Valentine's Day with no one but...

(From the family room, Mason's voice can be heard.)

Andy!  Give me back my nip mouse.  Rushton!  Stop sniffing at my tail.  Andy!  Those are MY treats.  Go get your own.  Rushton!  I was about to curl up in that box.  Get out of it right now.  Andy!...

On the other paw, a Valentine's Day without a Valentine is definitely THE BEST kinda Valentine's Day for me.

Remember what I said 'bout those ladycats?

MOUSES!

it's a raid!

There I was, lyin' on the chesterfield in the family room, dreamin' of sugarplums and fairies, when...

Wait a minute.  Wait a mousie mousin' mouses minute. I don't dream of sugarplums and fairies when I'm asleep.

Firstly, it's not Christmas, and those kinda things are Christmas kinda things, for sure.

Secondly, I'm a cat, and cats have way better things to dream about than that.

And thirdly, I'm not even sure what a sugarplum is, so if I were dreamin' about one, I wouldn't even know I was dreamin' about it, on account of my not bein' able to identify it in my dreams.  MOUSES!

Now where was I?  Oh yeah.

So there I was, lyin' on the chesterfield in the family room, dreamin' of nip-filled fields, ready for harvestin', when...

WHEN OUT OF NOWHERE, CAME AN EAR-PIERCING SOUND.

MOUSES!

Hey Peepers!  You hear that?  You hear that deafening noise that's botherin' my ears?

Hey Peepers!  You have any idea what that is?  You have any idea what that deafening noise might be?

Hey Peepers!

Hey Peepers!

HEY PEEPERS!  Are you to blame for whatever that is botherin' my ears?

Well, as you may have guessed, the peep wasn't answerin' any of my questions.  MOUSES!

HEY PEEPERS!  What the mouses is that noise, and why is it botherin' my ears?

Well the noise was gettin' louder and louder by the minute.  My gosh, it was so loud, even if the peep had answered my questions, I wouldn't have been able to hear the answers.  MOUSES!

But way back...  Way, way back, in the corner of my mind, I had an inkling that the sound sounded kinda familiar.  Hmmm...

Now where-oh-where had I heard that noise before?

Had I heard it when someone - never mind who - accidentally knocked all the baking sheets and muffin tins off the top shelf in the kitchen island while lookin' for a nice quiet spot for nappin'?  No, that noise was a far more clangy kinda noise than this.

Had I heard it when Peep #1 was raisin' the dead, practising her caterwaulin' when she used to go to caterwaulin' sessions once a week?  No, the peep's caterwaulin' was a far more screechy kinda noise than this.

Had I heard it on the television when...

OH MY MOUSES!  THAT WAS IT!

I had heard the very same noise while watchin' television.  On a television show, where helicopters were approachin', en masse, and...

OH MY MOUSES!  IT'S A RAID!

Well I jumped off the chesterfield and started runnin' in circles.  "It's a raid!  It's a raid!  IT'S A RAID!" I cried, to anyone who would listen.

And do you think the peep did?  Do you think she was listenin'?  Do you think she was listenin' to me?  Oh no, not my peep.  My peep just sat there with her knittin'.

"GET OFF YOUR TAILLESS BUTT, PEEPERS, AND GET OFF IT RIGHT NOW!  IT'S A RAID, I TELL YOU.  IT'S A RAID!"

Well that did the trick.  That did the trick, for sure. The peep got her tailless butt up off the chesterfield, and...

Okay, I should clarify somethin'.  Her gettin' up wasn't so much because of my meowin' at her, nor because of my callin' her names...

What?  Oh.  Did I not mention that?  Did I not mention my callin' her names?

Well never mind about that.

Anyway...

Anyway, suffice it to say, the peep FINALLY got her tailless butt up off the chesterfield when I grabbed hold of her ball of knittin' yarn, and tossed it to the other side of the room.

I have always found that in situations like this, one has to do, what one has to do.  MOUSES!

Then I grabbed hold of the peep by the shoulders and yelled, "IT'S A RAID!" at the top of my lungs. Yup, I yelled it right in her face.

"Hide the nip!  HIDE THE NIP!  PEEPERS, THE POLICE ARE COMIN', AND THEY'RE LOOKIN' FOR MY NIP!  They're comin' in helicopters, gettin' closer and closer by the minute.  Any second now, they're gonna be breakin' down the door, throwin' warrants in your face, demanding we paw over all of the nip."

Well the peep, bein' a peep, just stared blankly ahead.  Then she went over to the window, picked up the ball of yarn I had tossed over there, straightened back up, and looked out.  "It's a helicopter, Seville," she said.

Like I didn't already know that.

MOUSES!

"IT'S A RAID!" I yelled once more.  "Don't just stand there like a telephone pole, Peepers.  Get busy hidin' my nip."

The peep, still bein' a peep, continued to stare out the window, watchin' the pretty flashin' lights in the sky.

What to do...  What to do...

That's when I realized I was gonna have to take matters into my own paws, and start hidin' my nip, myself.  So I started racin' around, grabbin' nip mice here, and nip hearts there.  Grabbin' any and all nip toys that were lyin' about, anywhere.  Then I started stashing 'em under the chesterfield.  Just pushing 'em under there, as fast as I could.

I knew from personal experience, you see, that peeps never look under chesterfields.  After all, at last count, there were six dust bunnies livin' under there, with no peeps disturbing 'em in the least.

Yup, under our family room chesterfield, dust bunnies are breedin' like rabbits.  MOUSES!

I briefly pondered the question as to whether or not dust bunnies ever imbibed in the nip, but quickly realized that with the helicopters upon me, and the police practically standin' on the other side of the door, I had no time to ponder the great questions of the universe and the like, and I got right back to hidin' the nip mice previously scattered about on the floor, when...

When the peep said, "There it goes, Seville.  I wonder what that was all about."

I sat back on my haunches and looked up at the peep.  "You mean the police just flew on by? Without even stoppin' to say hello?"

But the peep, bein' a peep, had settled back onto the couch with her knittin'.

God bless her, that ol' Peepers of mine.  So trusting.  So naive.  So innocent.  So...

SO OBLIVIOUS IS MORE LIKE IT.  So clueless and nescient, too.  MOUSES!

My gosh, that ol' peep of mine wouldn't know a nip raid if one came up to her and slapped her in the face.  Or nipped her in the butt.  Or...  Or...  OR WHATEVER.  There she was, happily knittin' away, totally unaware of how close I came to losin' all of my nip.  MOUSES!

I took a moment to catch my breath, and then did what any sensible kitty would do.  I pushed the remainin' nip mice under the chesterfield for safe keeping, issued a stern warning to the dust bunny family livin' under there, that under no circumstances were they to imbibe in my nip, and then jumped back onto the chesterfield, and did my best to get myself back to sleep.

Moments later, there I was, lyin' on the chesterfield in the family room, dreamin' of nip-filled fields ready for harvestin' by a family of dust bunnies', when...

When comin' from the opposite direction...

THE NOISE OF THE HELICOPTER STARTED UP AGAIN.

My eyes opened wide.  I sat up as straight as I could.  Then, lookin' over at the peep, I yelled, "IT'S A RAID!"

MOUSES!

because I said so

So I was all like...

Then she was all like...

Then I was all like...

And then she was all like...

So then I was like, BECAUSE I SAID SO, PEEPERS.  MOUSES!

Well let's just say, that didn't go over too well.  MOUSES!

To tell you the truth, I'm not quite sure why. It's not like I didn't say, because I said so, nicely, or anythin'.  I mean, I said it as nicely as it could be said.

On the other paw, maybe I didn't.  Say it nicely, I mean, 'cause truth be told, I'm not sure you can have a conversation like the conversation I had with the peep, endin' with a, because I said so, that's said nicely.

And by the way, conversations between cats that end with, because I said so, rarely end well, either.  Believe me, I know.  MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, you're probably wonderin' what the peep and I were discussing before we came to blows.  To tell you the truth, I'm kinda wonderin' that myself, on account of my gettin' so involved with the argumentative part of the argument, I kinda forgot what we were arguin' about in the first place.

But I'm thinkin' it might have involved the nip.

MOUSES!

Oh yeah!  NOW I remember.  Now I remember, totally.

It all began when I overheard Peep #1 talkin' to Peep #2.  The first peep was sayin' somethin' about how well her pots of parsley were growin', and how she might bring one inside.

Now do I need to explain any further?  I mean, seriously, do I?  Do I really?  Does it require any more explanation than that?

Okay, you've twisted my paw.

So I was all like, PARSLEY ISN'T NIP, PEEPERS.  MOUSES!

Now let me tell you, my friends, I, Seville the Cat, have sniffed the parsley, and I have sniffed the nip, and they are simply not equal.  While nip is like A GIFT FROM THE GODS, parsley is nothin' but yuck.

AND I DON'T CARE IF PEEPS LIKE IT BETTER, IT ISN'T THE NIP.  MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, after takin' the time to explain to the peep the differences between parsley and nip, and after gaggin' at the suggestion that parsley is quite safe for cats to eat in moderation, and that I should give it a chance, TWICE, I...

Uh, wait a minute.  I don't think I was clear, there. When I say twice, I mean, I gagged twice.  That's right, I GAGGED TWICE at the suggestion of eatin' parsley, a suggestion that was given only the once, but had it been given twice, believe you me, I would have gagged several times more.

But then, after all my explainin' and gaggin', I was all like...

How can you even CONSIDER takin' up valuable indoor gardenin' space with the likes of anythin' not nip?

You ever notice?  You ever notice how some peeps are hard of hearin' even when technically, they aren't actually deaf?

Or maybe their hearin' is selective...

Or maybe that's what they say 'bout us cats.

Whatever.

So anyway, bottom line is, Peep #1 was thinkin' she was bringin' a pot of parsley inside while I, Seville the Cat, was thinkin' OTHERWISE.

And what the mouses is she doin', even growin' parsley in the first place, when she still hasn't mastered growin' the nip?

I'm sorry, did I say mastered?  Did...  Did..  Did...  Did I. Use. The word. Mastered. In the same sentence as the words peep, growin', and nip?  What I should have said was, stumbled through the kiddie wadin' pool while stubbing a toe on a beach ball.

Okay, so even I have to admit that makes absolutely no sense.

BUT NEITHER DOES THE PEEP'S INABILITY TO GROW THE NIP.

Make sense, I mean.  It makes no sense, whatsoever, that any peep of mine can't grow nip.

But anyway...

Anyway, that was the beginnin' of our argument that ended with my sayin', because I said so.  But let me tell you somethin'.  Let me tell you somethin' I still intend to tell the peep.  Let me tell you, there's no way, no how, any of those potted parsley plants are comin' inside, until the peep has pots of nip to bring inside, too.

And with the peep's lack of nip-growin' skills, that probably means never.

And you know somethin' else?  THAT JUST ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH.

And do you know why?

BECAUSE. I. SAID. SO.  MOUSES!

hold the mayo

One veggie burger please.

Um, you'd better hold the mayo.

And hold the mustard, relish and ketchup, too.

AND THE VEGGIES. Hold those icky ol' veggies, please.

What the mouses is this? I'm not gonna eat a veggie burger with my paws.  I'm a cat.  Did you not notice my feline features?  I don't need that stupid ol' bun.  Please get rid of that.

Peepers, what did you do?  Now my plate is empty.  MOUSES!

Really?

REALLY?

YOU DON'T SAY.

MOUSES!

So you're tellin' me, a veggie burger with no veggies is nothin' but...

AIR?

For goodness sake.

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

No.  No!  It can't be...  Say it isn't so.  Please....

Oh my mouses that was a nightmare.  There I was, hangin' out at a BBQ picnic kinda thing, practically STARVIN' to death, thinkin' I'd check out what all the fuss about these veggie burgers the peeps eat was, when I ordered one up and got nothin' but air.

That's right, NOTHIN' BUT AIR!

Seriously, my plate was totally bare.

It was the worst kind of nightmare.

MOUSES!

Then the next thing I knew, someone was tryin' to hire me as a poet.

AND I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW IT.

MOUSES!

Hehehehehe...  But seriously folks, the next time I'm dreaming 'bout bein' at a BBQ, I'm gonna order me up a tin of the fanciest of the feasts, garnished with nip.

And speakin' of nip, I wonder if I overdid the nip last night.  Could that be why I was dreamin' such nightmarish dreams?

WHAT AM I TALKIN' ABOUT?  There's no such thing as havin' too much nip.

On the other paw...

Nope, the other paw agrees with the first.  There's no such thing as too much nip.

Now you're probably all wonderin' how I got my paws on that much nip in the first place, considerin' how incompetent Peep #1 is at growin' the stuff.

And when I say incompetent, I mean INCOMPETENT.  Look it up.

Seriously, look up incompetent in the dictionary, and you'll find a picture of my first peep tryin' to grow the nip.

MOUSES!

So anyway, the nip I got wasn't fresh nip, but it wasn't stale nip, either.

OR MAYBE IT WAS!  Maybe the nip I got into last night was stale and kinda...   You know...  Faulty. Maybe that nip IS what made me dream those nightmarish dreams.

Hmmm....

Nah, that can't be it.  No such thing as faulty weed.

I MEAN, NIP.

Anyway...

Anyway, I was diggin' through...

I mean, I was snoopin' through...

What I REALLY mean is, I was searchin' the peep's stuff last night.

No, that's not quite right, either.  I was actually investigating the armoire bookcase thingy with all those drawers.  The armoire bookcase thingy that is IN MY OFFICE, where I ALLOW the peep to store some stuff, and while INVESTIGATING, I found her stash.

Yeah, I found the peep's stash of nip. You know, the big half kilogram bag of nip she bought last year at Christmas, to make us cats nip hearts and nip mice and the like and...

We'll let's just say, the stash is decidedly smaller today than it was yesterday mornin'.

Hey Peepers!  You might wanna order in some more nip.

No reason.  Just lettin' you know, is all.

MOUSES!

sometimes...

Sometimes I wonder 'bout my peep.

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', Seville has said that before.  And do you know somethin'? YOU'RE RIGHT.  MOUSES!

Oh yeah, I've been wondering 'bout that ol' peep of mine for a number of years now. Wonderin' and wonderin' and wonderin'! And let me tell you somethin'.   I STILL HAVEN'T FIGURED HER OUT!

Okay, that's not quite true.  I have figured her out.  I'm just not sure if I like what I've figured.  MOUSES!

But truth be told, I don't think I'm alone.  I highly doubt I'm the only cat out there wondering 'bout their peeps, for peeps can make a cat wonder, for sure.  MOUSES!

Now I bet you're wonderin' too.  Wonderin' what Peep #1 has done to start me wonderin'...  THIS time.

Well what hasn't she done?  MOUSES!

I'll start at the beginning.

You may have heard 'bout the little nip mouse incident we had at my house?

No?

Well let me tell you all about it.

Actually, all you need know is that the nip mouse in question is no longer nippy, on account of it havin' been ripped wide open, so that all of its nip poured out.

And who did that, you'd like to know?

Well...  Well that's not important.  Nope, that's not important at all.  MOUSES!

But here's the thing.  That poor little nipless nip mouse got me to thinkin'.  It got me thinkin' about...

ABOUT NIP!

But seriously, what else is there to think about?

So anyway, I got to thinkin' about the nip mouse, which made me think about nip, which made me think about the fact that late last year, Peep #1 was seen approachin' a dealer on a street corner, lookin' to buy a bag of...

You guessed it, NIP.

Okay, okay...  Truth is, she went to the local health food store and ordered some dried, organic catnip.  But the health food store was, my friends, on a street corner, and the nip was in a bag. MOUSES!

But the fact that the peep had to purchase said nip in the first place, is what got me to thinking even further.  Thinking beyond the nip.  And what did I think?

ISN'T IT OBVIOUS?

I was thinkin'...

I was thinkin', it's downright amazin' that peeps can get themselves up and dressed in the morning without bein' told how to do it.

And honestly, they even need help with that.  Many a cat has had to wake a peep up at four o'clock in the morning, telling a peep to get up, get dressed, and start feeding us cats.  MOUSES!

But I digress.  Let's go back to the Peep's need to purchase that nip.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Peep #1 is the worst - I repeat, THE WORST - grower of the nip the world has ever seen.

I mean, if you were to find the previously worst nip grower in the world, and compare said nip grower to my peep, said nip grower would look like a horticultural genius, for sure.  I mean, if you were to look up "worst catnip grower on Earth" in the dictionary, you would find a big 'ol picture of my peep, for sure.  I mean, if you were produce a television show of Canada's ten worst nip growers, my peep would be a shoe-in for the number one spot, for sure.  I mean...

Well I'm figuring you're gettin' the picture, and that, my friends, would be for sure.  MOUSES!

But I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', Seville has known all this before. And do you know somethin'?  YOU'RE RIGHT.  MOUSES!

But what I did not know was...

Apparently, last summer, when the peep was plantin' my nip plants, for like the hundredth time, I SHOULD HAVE TOLD Peep #1 not to kill the nip.

Now why-oh-why did I not do that?

Well...  Well I mistakenly thought she could figure that part out on her own.  MOUSES!

Obviously, Peep #1 is incapable of figuring out anythin' on her own.  MOUSES!

But I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', my Peep #1 is not alone in this matter.  She's not the only peep requirin' cats, and other peeps, to tell 'em what to do.  Explain to 'em how to survive day-to-day life.  And you know somethin'?  YOU'RE RIGHT.  MOUSES!

Peeps have to be told everything.  EVERYTHING.  MOUSES!

Like uh...  um...  Oh, I know!  Like peeps who have to be TOLD to remove frozen pizza from the cardboard box and plastic wrapping, before puttin' the pizza in the oven.  'Cause I guess, before the boxes gave such instructions, peeps were just tossin' their frozen pizzas into ovens, boxes and plastic and all!  MOUSES!

Or uh...  um...  Oh, I know!  Like how a jar of peanut butter says right on it that it contains peanuts, and how you shouldn't eat it if you're allergic to...  you know...  peanuts.  MOUSES!

And uh...  um...  Oh, I know!  How, in order to avoid electrocution, you shouldn't use an electrical appliance in the bathtub.  But here's a question:  Is it okay to use it in a shower?  MOUSES!

I'm tellin' you, some peeps need to be told everythin' just in order for them to survive.

Yes, you need to remove the child from his or her clothes before launderin' said clothes; it really is unwise to go around stickin' your head in plastic bags; and believe it or not, facial creams are supposed to go on your face and not in your mouth.  Seriously peeps, they're not for eatin'.

How is it that peeps haven't made themselves extinct?

You know somethin'?  I've got nothin' for that.

But what I do know is...

Now where was I again?

Oh yeah...  I remember now.

Next year, when the peep goes to plant me up some nip plants, AGAIN, I'm gonna have to tell her in the most explicit way:  DON'T GO AROUND KILLING MY NIP PLANTS, YOU PEEPIFIED NIP-KILLIN' MACHINE. MOUSES!

There, I've said it now.  MOUSES!