Showing posts with label peeps. Show all posts
Showing posts with label peeps. Show all posts

Sunday, 14 May 2023

no way, no how...


"No way, no how, is this here plant gonna fit in that there pot.  MOUSES!"


I remember that joke my late, great brother Nissy made when he wrote it; and boy-oh-boy was it ever a super duper good joke, to be sure.


Nissy always wrote the best jokes.


MOUSES!


But anyway...


But anyway, I do believe Nissy wrote that joke 'round about Peepers' Day, way back when.  Peepers' Day; the day we cats celebrate our motherin'-type peeps.


Yeah, yeah... Some call it Mother's Day.  So sue me.


MOUSES!


But anyway...


But anyway, today is the day Saffy and I are celebratin' Peepers although truth be told, I'm not entirely sure why.  I mean, when you think about it...  When you really, REALLY think about it, Peepers kinda has it made 'round about here.  It's like EVERY day is Peepers' Day, to be sure.  


What we need is a Kitty's Day, or somethin' like that.  Unfortunately, the last time havin' a Kitty's Day was suggested, Peepers laughed 'til she was blue in the face.  In fact, she laughed so hard...


She laughed so hard I, Seville the Cat, thought I was gonna have to give her mouth to mouth or somethin' like that - which WOULD BE GROSS - but thankfully, Saffron came to my rescue and gave the peep a good slap, and that smartened her right up.


Slap...  Bitey...  Whatever.


MOUSES!


And there went my dreams of havin' a Kitty's Day to celebrate every year.


MOUSES!


So since it's just Peepers' Day and not Kitty's Day, I guess Saffy and I are expected to do somethin' special for the peep.  


Or so I've been told.


But figurin' out what that somethin' special should be is kinda hard 'cause like I said before, PEEPERS APPEARS TO ALREADY HAVE IT MADE 'round about here.  For mousin' out loud, SHE HAS THE PLEASURE OF LIVIN' WITH SAFFRON AND ME!


What on earth could be more special than that?


MOUSES!


But Saffy, bein' the suck up kinda kitty he is, decided to start early and sleep up on the bed by Peepers' tootsies the night before last which is somethin' Saffy never, ever has done before.  And he slept by her tootsies without even pouncin' on 'em or clawing 'em or biting 'em or anything like that which must have been really hard for Saffy on account of pouncin', catchin', clawin', and bitin' the peep's toes is one of his favourite pastimes, to be sure.


Guess he was too busy sleepin' to do any of that.


MOUSES!


And as for me...


Well as for me, since I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO INTENTION of goin' anywhere near Peepers' toes, and I don't have any other kinda gift at the ready...


And since it's already Peepers' Day, and all...


Well...


Well I guess I've decided to give her a gift certificate or somethin' similar.


BUT NOT A GIFT CERTIFICATE FOR MY SLEEPIN' ON THE BED OR ANYTHIN' LIKE THAT!


'Cause I'm not that kinda kitty, you see.


But perhaps I could stretch to give her a certificate entitling Peepers one hour of givin' me chin tickles or behind the ear scritches or even belly rubs.  One whole hour of havin' me all to herself.


Now THAT sounds like THE PURRFECT PEEPERS' DAY GIFT, to be sure.  One kitties all 'round the world can give to their peeps.


And one with no stinky peep toes at the foot of the bed to be found.


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.

Sunday, 14 October 2018

show some respect

You ever notice...

You ever notice how peeps, BEIN' PEEPS, show us kitties absolutely no respect?

And when I say no, I mean no as in a nothin' nadda nincompoop kinda way.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, there I was, mindin' my own business, havin' a little nap on the floor next to Peep #1's feet, when all of a sudden...

When all of a sudden, I smelled somethin' kinda funky, in an icky, stinky kinda way.

Of course, I immediately thought my sister, Mason, must have used the litter box 'cause uh...  You know...  Mason does kinda have stinky poo.

MOUSES!

But no, Mason was lyin' there on the floor next to me, sound asleep.  I knew she was sleepin' on account of her snorin'.  And I knew she was not the source of the smell as not even Mason can stink up a litter box without first visitin' it.

MOUSES!

So I gave the air another sniff, and realised the smell I was smellin' wasn't actually that kinda smell after all.

It was more like...

Hmmm...

It was more like...

Valerian?

MOUSES!

Well at the thought of gettin' my paws on some valerian root, I immediately perked up my ears.  I perked up my nose, too, and I started sniffin' some more.  I sniffed all about!  And I looked about, too, but for the nine lives of me, there wasn't a sign of valerian root anywhere to be found.

Except for the smell...

MOUSES!

It was at that point when I rolled onto my back, givin' the peep better access to my tummy.  You know, to give it a good rub with her foot.

I do so enjoy a good tummy rub.  Don't you?

And oddly enough, that's when I smelled the valerian root once more.

Where oh where oh where could it be?

MOUSES!

And THAT'S when it occurred to me.

THAT'S when I remembered.

THAT'S WHEN I REALISED...

That's when it dawned on me that valerian root smells like...

STINKY FEET.

MOUSES!

"Hey Peepers!" I cried.  "Show some respect for the cat, would ya?  GET YOUR ICKY OL' MOUSED-UP STINKY FEET OUTTA MY FACE, AND..."

Hmmm...

"Wait a minute, there, Peepers.  Hold off on that last order.  On second thought, get those feet of yours back rubbin' my tummy, 'cause you know what?  You know that smell of your stinky ol' feet?  Turns out, to a cat who likes the valerian root, that's not such a bad smell, after all."

MOUSES!

Sunday, 27 May 2018

the agreement

It has come to my attention, SOME peeps think I mock 'em too much.

Scratch that.

It has come to my attention, ONE peep thinks I mock her too much.

Better.

But...

It has come to my attention, ONE peep thinks I mock her too much, and the other peep is hunky dory, a-okay, with that situation.

Best.

MOUSES!

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

Oh.

Hmmm...

So it has since come to my attention, one peep AND SEVERAL CATS think I mock 'em too much.

HMMM...

Well that's just life, I suppose, and there's nothin' I'm gonna be changin' about it.

So...

So MOUSES!

You know, truth is, I wouldn't be mockin' Peep #1 and my fur-sibs all the time in the first place, if they weren't always doin' things requirin' me to mock.

Why just the other day...

Oh my mouses, where do I even begin?

I mean, EVERY SINGLE DAY Peep #1 and my fur-sibs give me reasons to mock 'em.  Every single day.  Every single one!  Three hundred and sixty-five days of the year.  Three hundred and sixty five: That's how many days they give me stuff I can use for mockin'.

MULTIPLE TIMES a day, too.  That's right, my friends, two or three times a day.  Sometimes four.  Sometimes even more!

I'm like spoiled for reasons for mockin'.

You might not realise this, but I have to whittle down the available mockable incidents.

I DO!

The daily whittlin' of MIs - that's Mockable Incidents, for those not in the know - is like a full-time job, for sure.

In fact, Peep #1 and my fur-sibs give me SO VERY MANY REASONS to mock 'em, and I have to spend SO VERY MUCH TIME decidin' which incidents are the most mockable, it's amazin' I have any time left to do any actual mockin'!

SERIOUSLY.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', Seville must be exaggerating, 'cause just how many stupid things can a peep and three fur-sibs in the course of one day, do?

My friends, you would be surprised, for sure.

MOUSES!

I'm tellin' ya, it's like they're in a competition of some kind.  A competition where the winner is the one who does the most stupid stuff.  The most stupid stuff, the most times.  The most stupid...

Well you get the picture, I am sure.

MOUSES!

Now I must admit, SOMETIMES, the stupid stuff they do is kinda repetitive.  Too repetitive for me to blog 'bout more than seven or eight times.

Actually, it's amazin' how many times Peep #1 has done the same stupid things, over and over and over again.

She's clearly a slow learner, for sure.

And as for those fur-sibs of mine, well I've lost track of the number of times they've done certain stupid things, repeatedly.  They must be slow learners, too.

MOUSES!

And as for Peep #2?

Well...

Well let's just say, Peep #2 and I have kinda come to an agreement of sorts.  I keep my mockin' to my fur-sibs and Peep #1, and Peep #2 gives me extra treats.

SWEET.

MOUSES!

Wednesday, 17 January 2018

you hear that?


Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle...

Mouses, you hear that?

Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle...

There it goes again.

Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle...

And again, only louder this time.  Did you hear that sound?

CrrraaaaahhhhCKKK!

Did you hear THAT?

CRRRAAAAAASHHHH!

Now surely you MUST have heard that.

I'm thinkin' that one was heard right 'round the world, for sure.

MOUSES!

Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle...

And there goes another.

MOUSES!

You know, bein' a cat, I have very sensitive hearin'.  I hear all sorts of stuff.  ALL SORTS OF STUFF, for sure, and lately...  Well lately, I've been hearin' a lot of...

CrrrraaaaahhhhCKKK!

I wonder who did that one.

MOUSES!

So anyway, like I was sayin'...  Lately, I've been hearin'...

CRRRAAAAAASHHHH!

And ANOTHER one bites the dust.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', I've been up to tricks in the kitchen again.  Tricks involvin' the knockin' down of dishes and stuff.  Stuff that might be up on the counter, and...

Well, my friends, YOU'D BE WRONG ABOUT THAT.

MOUSES!

I, Seville the Cat, do not knock stuff off counters, and onto the floor.  Oh sure, ON OCCASION, a piece of silverware, or a plate or somethin', has VOLUNTARILY jumped off the counter, ALL OF ITS OWN ACCORD, when I just happened to be up there, immediately prior to the jumpin'.  Yeah, voluntarily jumped off the counter, and onto the floor.  BUT I HAD NOTHIN' TO DO WITH THAT.  Nothin' to do with that, at all.  Did you read where I wrote the word, "voluntarily?"

MOUSES!

Fact is, the idea of stuff voluntarily jumpin' off counters when I happen to be up on said counters, is merely coincidental, is all.

MOUSES!

But that, my friends, is beside the point, 'cause this here blog post has NOTHIN' to do with things jumpin' off counters.  Nothin' to do with 'em jumpin' onto counters, either.

No Sir, this here blog post has to do with...

CRRRAAAAAASHHHH!

Oohhh...  That one took me by surprise.  Didn't hear the tinkles leadin' up to it or anythin'.

And FYI, the tinkles have nothin' to do with litter box humour, either.

MOUSES!

Truth is, what you're hearin' is the sound of...

CRRRAAAAAASHHHH!

And there goes ANOTHER.  I'm tellin' ya, it's like livin' down at the South Pole, waitin' for bits and pieces of glaciers to crack and fall off, and...

What?  WHAT?  I CAN'T HEAR YOU!  Yeah, I can't hear you over the sound of the uncontrollable sobbin' comin' from...

What's that?  I STILL CAN'T HEAR YOU.  YOU'LL HAVE TO SPEAK UP IF YOU WANNA BE HEARD OVER ALL THAT SOBBIN'!

THE THING IS...

Sorry 'bout that.  The thing is, peeps all 'round the world are breakin' their New Year Resolutions, and the sound of them breakin' is like shatterin' glass.  First there's the tinkles, then comes the crackin', and finally, you hear a loud crash.

Then they sob, uncontrollably, when the realize they didn't make it past the first month.

To tell you the truth, I'm surprised so many of 'em made it past the first day.

MOUSES!

Let me tell you, my peeps were sobbin' up a storm by January 3rd.

Yup, they had to do an emergency run to the handkerchief store, and everythin'.

MOUSES!

As for the rest of the world, I expect I'll be hearin' those resolutions breakin' for some time to come.

(You know, on account of my havin' such sensitive ears, and all.)

Well...  Well actually....  Actually, maybe for just another few days.  Yeah, by then, the breakin' of this year's resolutions should be all done.

MOUSES!

Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle...

Sunday, 5 November 2017

hold still!

Hold still, Peepers.  Hold still!

Uhhh...  Just checkin' somethin'.

I SAID, I'm just checkin' somethin'.  Now hold still.

Hold still, I told you.  Boy-oh-boy, a cat tells a peep to hold still, and what does a peep do?  Pretty much everythin' but.

PEEPERS!  If you're gonna insist on movin' about like that, don't complain to me when...

HOLD STILL!

Lookie here, Peepers, like I said, I'm just checkin' somethin'.

What am I checking, you ask?

Well...

Well I'm checkin' to see if you have whiskers.  So far I haven't found any, but I'm not yet done checkin'.  I still haven't looked at the other side of your face.

HOLD STILL!

Well if you weren't movin' your head about like a spinning top, my claws wouldn't be scratchin' you now, would they.  It's not a question, Peepers.  It's a statement of fact.

HOLD STILL!

I'm tellin' ya, it's like workin' with a bobble head doll or somethin'.

MOUSES!

Hmmm...  Okay, so it looks like you don't have any whiskers.  Actually, that's pretty much the result I was expectin'.  After all, you don't have fur on your arms and legs, either.

Well OF COURSE I've checked your arms and legs for fur.  I check stuff like that out daily.

No it's not.  It's not creepy at all.  If you wanna hear somethin' creepy, yesterday I...

Uhhh...  On second thought, never mind 'bout that.

MOUSES!

Anyway...

So anyway, you're probably wonderin' as to why I was checkin' to see if you have whiskers.  The thing is, Peepers, the other day, I was thinking 'bout how you're supposed to be like my mum, right?  I mean, I don't know my cat mum, so that kinda makes you my mum.  But the thing is...

Well...

WELL WE DON'T LOOK ANYTHIN' ALIKE!

No Peepers, we don't.  For starters, you're not nearly as cute as me.  You're not really cute at all, whereas I, Seville the Cat, am adorable.  But you?  Eh...  Not so much.

Also, there's the fur thing.  Peepers, you're pretty much bald, 'cept for that hair on the top of your head, whereas I, Seville the Cat, have fur all over.

And speakin' of fur, mine is a beautiful and stunning shade of marmalade orange, whereas yours is...

Well yours is whatever colour it says on the bottle of dye.

Which brings me to my next point.  My orange fur is one hundred percent natural, unlike yours.  You know, on account of yours comin' out of a bottle and all.

And now, it seems, you don't have any whiskers, either.  Unlike me.

Then there's the issue of your missing tail.

NO, I did not actually check for a tail.  Now THAT would have been creepy, for sure.

I'm assumin' you are tailless, Peepers, on account of all your complaints when I make comments on my blog 'bout your havin' one.

Plus, if you do have a tail, for all the nine lives of me, I can't figure out where you're puttin' it when you wear pants.

MOUSES!

So basically Peepers, what it comes down to is this:  How the mouses can you be my mum when you clearly belong to a different species?  HOW?

And not just a different species.  An inferior one, too.

A species that is WAY less cute.

And not nearly as smart.

Basically, if our house were a zoo, I, Seville the Cat, would be the zookeeper, whereas you would be the uh...

Well...

Well I'll let you try to figure that one out for yourself.

MOUSES!

Sunday, 17 April 2016

the list

Hey there Peepers, Would you mind not being so...  Well...  Hmmm... Would you mind not being such a peep?  MOUSES!

I know, I know...  Once a peep, always a peep. MOUSES!

Guess you really can't help yourself.  I mean, you were born a peep so your being peepish should come as no surprise to anyone.  Not even to me. It's not like you can have a peep adjustment or something like that.  Not like they can de-peepify you or anything, right?  Although if someone were to figure out how to do that...  But I really don't think de-peepifications are possible with today's limited technology.  Too bad though 'cause there would be a market for stuff like that, for sure.

The thing is this, Peepers.  Sometimes...

Scratch that.  Quite often, your peepish behaviours and attitudes grate on my feline sensibilities. MOUSES!

But I haven't totally given up on you, Peepers.  I'm pretty sure that with my help, we can make a new and improved you.  With a little...

Scratch that.  With a lot of hard work, we can make a new and improved peep out of you, for sure.

Now to get us started, I've made a list of stuff I think you need to work on.  We won't be able to tackle everything all at once on account of it being a pretty long list.  But surely we can make a start.

Pass me the paper on top of that big ol' pile of papers, would you Peepers?

I told you, Peepers.  It's a pretty long list, for sure.  MOUSES!

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

So that was my plan.  In reality, however, things worked out slightly differently.  For starters, Peep #1 totally ignored my list.  In fact, my list has now become one with the recycling bin.  MOUSES!

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

Now here's the thing with peeps.  They tend to be overly sensitive about a number of things including, but not limited to, being presented with a fifty-page list of needed improvements and adjustments in their attitudes and behaviours.

Did I say list?  Yeah, I did say list.  In fact, I said it more than once.  But really, I should have said, summary or better yet, summarized list.  Or maybe listed summaries?  You see, it started out as a simple list but truth be told, I had to summarize most of my points on account of my having only one package of paper.  MOUSES!

But you know, I kind of think that the sheer length of my summarized list is what got me off on the wrong paw with the peep.  But it wasn't my fault.  No sirree. Not my fault the peep has so many faults and believe-you-me, it was that large number of faults that necessitated such a long list, in the first place.

In retrospect however, I probably should have started out with just one or two points.  Yeah, one or two points, every day, from now until Christmas. MOUSES!

It all boils down to one thing.  It all boils down to the fact that peeps have gotta learn to understand, they're not in charge.

Now Peep #1 might have felt like she was in charge when she disposed of my list but really, she was just deluding herself.  Yup, deluding herself, for sure.

You ever hear that saying?  That ol' saying 'bout dogs having masters and cats having staff?  Well why-oh-why is it wrong for me to wanna improve my staff?

And when you think about it, that's really all I was doing.

And when you really think about it, I was simply just trying to help.

But a cat presents his staff with a fifty-page summarized list of ways they can improve themselves and the next thing that cat knows, his staff is improving the recycling bin with the very same list of improvements.

Like the recycling bin is gonna be able to take those improvements to heart.

No way, no how, am I getting my money back on that package of paper.  MOUSES!

Did you realize that there are peeps out there who think they can actually own cats?  Yeah, peeps thinking they can own cats.  Can you believe it?  Just goes to show you how delusional peeps can be.  MOUSES!

The truth is, no one ever owns a cat.  We cats are our own cats, for sure.

People should feel privileged to live with cats.  People should feel honoured to be appreciated and loved by cats. But feel like they own them?  NEVER. Never in a million years.

You see, we cats have minds and hearts of our own.  We know what we like and what we want and what we need, too.  And one of the things we need is good staff, which brings me back to my list.

Now I'm gonna have to go back and write a whole new list and let me tell you, item number one on that new list is gonna be about not putting any more of my lists in the recycling bin, for sure.  MOUSES!

Sunday, 22 November 2015

sometimes I wonder...

Sometimes I wonder...

I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking I'm gonna say, sometimes I wonder 'bout my peeps.  Well truth be told, I do.  In fact, I wonder about them more than just sometimes.  If we're gonna be honest here, I wonder about them ALL the time.  It's kind of like a full-time job or something!  Those peeps of mine do have a tendency to do an awful lot of crazy stuff that all needs to be wondered about, for sure.  MOUSES!

But this time - this ONE time - I was wondering about someone else.  This time I was wondering about...

Perhaps I should go back to the beginning.

Sometimes I wonder about peeps.  Not my peeps but peeps in general.  MOUSES!

So I was watching a little television this morning, with the peeps, when an advertisement came on.  It was an advertisement for a silver coin.  Apparently the Royal Canadian Mint is selling twenty dollar coins with Superman on 'em or something like that.

Now you might be thinking, so what?  To tell you the truth, the first time I saw this aforementioned advertisement, I thought, so what, too.

But that was the first time.

Today when I saw the ad, I realized that I have seen this particular ad many times before.  Clearly, they're having some trouble selling those coins.

So I did a little kitty math and twenty minutes later, I realized that these coins are basically free. FREE.  FREE!  And they still can't sell 'em.  Can't sell 'em for free!  MOUSES!

Oh, I'm sure they they've sold some.  Well at least I hope they've sold some but they haven't sold 'em all because, like I said, they're still advertising them on TV.  MOUSES!

But let's get back to this business about these coins being free.

These silver - yup, that's right, they're made of silver - coins cost twenty dollars each but they're worth twenty dollars, too.  So if you went to the bank and wanted to deposit one or something, you'd be depositing twenty dollars just as if you were depositing a twenty dollar bill because the twenty dollar coin is worth twenty dollars which is exactly what you paid for it so in other words, it's kind of like it's free.

It's not all that different from taking four five dollar bills to the bank and asking them to give you one twenty dollar bill in their place, when you think about it, except for the fact that in that case you're going from four bills to one instead of one coin to one bill but still, really, you're just switching it up a bit without spending a cent.  Or a dollar.  Or even twenty.

Now you're probably wondering how much it actually costs to get this free twenty dollar coin. Nothing.  Hard to believe but it's true.  There's free shipping and everything.  MOUSES!

But here comes the catch.  You know there always is one.  There's always a catch, especially when we're talking tuna but even when we're not, there's always a catch to be caught.  MOUSES!

These twenty dollar coins might be free to the buyers - who, as explained above, are technically simply exchangers or traders - but they're not exactly free to the Canadian taxpayers and stuff.  Let me explain...

If a peep trades - yeah, trades - a twenty dollar bill for a twenty dollar coin that's worth twenty dollars, the peep still ends up with twenty dollars.  Sure, it's now a silver coin instead of paper but bottom line is, it's still twenty dollars.  Now if that peep is trading rather than buying, the Mint must be trading, too, which means they can't be selling.  They're simply trading the silver for paper.  So even though they're calling it a sale, it's really a trade of two things of equal value which means there's no profit to be made in that there sale, that's really a trade, at all.  MOUSES!

But if you have two happy traders, what's the harm in that?

Well like I said earlier, today was the not the first time I have seen this ad for this twenty dollar coin, worth twenty dollars.  I've seen this ad many times before.  Apparently, the Royal Canadian Mint has been advertising these coins over and over and over again.

This means that the Royal Canadian Mint has been paying money to advertise their selling (which remember, is really trading) of these twenty dollar coins for twenty dollars.  In other words, they've been paying money to make zero profit.

Now I will admit that I, myself, have only seen the ads on CBC Television which is funded by the Canadian government so really, I suppose, money from one arm of the government is simply going to another arm of the government so one could argue that no real money is being spent on these ads unless, of course, you take into account that those advertising slots could have been sold to some other business, independent of the government, that would have PAID good money for them. Perhaps they would have paid using twenty dollar coins or perhaps they would have used twenty dollar bills but it doesn't really matter because as we all know, twenty dollars is still twenty dollars. And if you take that into account, then yeah, advertising revenue has been lost - LOST - assuming, of course, that someone wanted to buy advertising in the first place.  MOUSES!

You know, when you think about it, this buying and selling of advertising slots by different arms of the government is a whole lot like trading, too.  Trading numbers in columns on one arm to columns on another arm which we'll call trading for lack of a better word - because it's not like I'm an accountant or anything who would know such things - as the various columns are all on arms belonging to the same entity...  the government.

And it doesn't end there.  Nope, it sure doesn't.

Remember how I said there was free shipping on all these trades?  Guess the Mint must be paying for not only advertising but for shipping, too, although I suppose this is really simply more trading because I'm assuming they'll be shipping via Canada Post which is another appendage of the Canadian government.  MOUSES!

To tell you the truth, I've confused myself with all this talk of buying and selling that's really trading.  Trading and counting up the various Canadian appendages upon which we can tally said trades.

But if we look really hard - really, REALLY hard - I do believe that somewhere in all this confusion, is the answer as to why Canada can no longer afford to make one cent coins, otherwise known as pennies.

I'll make 'em a trade.  I'll trade the Canadian government one twenty dollar coin for some of my thoughts.  MOUSES!

Sunday, 13 September 2015

attention span of a gnat

Ever notice how easily distracted peeps can be?  Let me tell you, my peeps have the attention span of a gnat.  Maybe. Maybe combined. Maybe a little less than that.  MOUSES!

So anyway, the peep is having a birthday soon.  Yup, Peep #1 will be a year older, exactly two weeks from today.  Well technically, she'll be two weeks older, two weeks from today but who's counting? MOUSES!

Got some big plans for Peep #1's big day. I'll be having a couple of naps - of course - and then probably some playtime.  Also, it's Sunday which makes it a posting day for me on this here blog so I'll be doing that, too.  And I'm thinking that at some point, I'll need to give her a birthday prezzie although, truth be told, I have no idea what that prezzie will be.  Not that I haven't given it a lot of thought.  Just haven't figured it out yet.  MOUSES!

Anderson says he doesn't need to give the peep a birthday prezzie on account of his first coming inside the house last year, the day before her birthday.  He says that his first Gotcha Day can double as Peep #1's prezzie.  I'm not sure if that's going to work out though.  Oh sure, Peep #1 was super happy when Andy decided to come live inside but still...  I'm thinking we cats need to get her a little something we can wrap up and stick a bow on.  Something like that.

We can't get her a birthday cake, though.  Nope, she's getting one of those, herself.  Actually, she's going to make it.

Yeah, Peep #1 had her heart set on a red velvet cake that wasn't red on account of her not being a big fan of all that red dye.  By the way, did you know that the original red velvet cakes weren't all that red?  Nope, they were just a little red and it was caused by a reaction with the cocoa and vinegar or buttermilk or something like that.  Read it somewhere.  Not sure where and to be perfectly honest, I'm not even sure if it's true.  Can't always trust everything you read, you see. MOUSES!

Anyway, like I was saying, Peep #1 had her heart set on a red velvet cake that wasn't red so she was going to have to make it herself and by scratch.  Not like in cat scratches but like...  uh... whatever by scratch means.

But then Connie got sick.

Yeah, my sister Constance got sick.  Well technically, she's not sick.  She's injured.  She broke her leg.

Peeps aren't quite sure how Constance broke her leg and Connie isn't talking.  Not even to me!  I've asked her how it happened but she won't say a word.  Word on the street is that Connie may have fallen from the railing thingy at the top of the stairs.  You see, Constance has always had a penchant for perching on precarious surfaces and then falling asleep and sometimes, once sound asleep, falling down.

Peeps know for a fact that Connie hurt herself in the house and she did it somewhere upstairs.  Now as she likes to climb up on that railing thingy and take naps...  Let's just say the peeps put two and two together and, for once, it added up to four.  MOUSES!

So Constance had to have x-rays and they showed three fractures.  Now her right hind leg is all wrapped up in this splint cast kind of thing and she and the peeps are playing the waiting game.  In another week and a half or so, the doctor will take more x-rays to see if her leg is healing.  Doctor says it's too early to tell, yet, so in the meantime, she just has to go in periodically to have the splint cast thing re-wrapped and stuff.

Connie says playing the waiting game isn't much fun.  She'd much rather be playing with a wand toy or something like that but she's not supposed to be overly active so there's no wand toy playing in her immediate future.  MOUSES!

But because of Connie's sore leg, the peeps have been spending as much time as possible with her so last night, when Connie hopped - literally - into the family room, dragging her splinted leg behind her, Peep #1 scooped her up for some cuddle time on the chesterfield.  That's when the British Baking Show came on television.  Connie and the peep watched it together although my sister tells me it wasn't at all what she was expecting.  When she heard they were baking cakes, she immediately thought they were talking about fish cakes which, unfortunately, was not on the menu at all.  Not a fish in sight, I am told.  What good is that?  MOUSES!

Then this morning, Peep #1 Googled the two chefs from the cooking show to see if either one of them had a recipe for a red velvet cake.  She had already been given a recipe by a friend but wondered if Mary or Paul from the cooking show had recipes, too, so she checked out their Facebook pages to see what she could find.  Long story short, Peep #1 is now thinking she might make some kind of walnut cake for her birthday.

Remember how I said Peep #1 had the attention span of a gnat?  Of half a gnat?  Maybe?  On a good day?  Well the peep had her heart set on a red velvet cake that wasn't red but all it took was one episode of a baking show and five minutes playing around on the computer and she had totally changed her mind.  MOUSES!

Instead of playing around on the computer, she should have been playing with me.  There's a wand toy in the living room that has been begging me to biff it for several days now. MOUSES!

But back to the birthday prezzie.  I haven't got a clue what we cats should get the peep.  Whatever it is, we'll split it five ways.  Connie's not really feeling up to prezzie giving and Andy, as I mentioned earlier, thinks the gift of him is good enough.  But the rest of us are going to have to come up with something.

I heard about this nip-flavoured lip balm which sounded super tasty but then I found out it was for wearing and not actually eating and said to myself...  MOUSES!

Then I went looking for nip perfume but alas, not a single major perfume company has thought to make such a thing.  I couldn't believe it!  Oh sure, they have roses and lilies and vanilla coming out of their ears but catnip?  NOTHING.  Thought for sure someone would have invented catnip perfume by now but apparently, I was wrong.

Finally, I thought about that old birthday cake Peep #1 was planning on making for herself.  What if we cats were to get together and make it for her?  That could be a gift, right?  Of course, we wouldn't be making red velvet cake that isn't red or walnut cake, either.  My sister, Tess, had a wonderful idea, suggesting we make a birthday cake infused with the essence of nip and iced with buttercream icing.

That's when I remembered we cats aren't allowed to play around the oven and stove.  MOUSES!

So with our baking of the birthday cake out of the question, it was back to the old drawing board. Not that we actually have a drawing board but you get the picture, I am sure.  Not that I drew that picture you got or anything though because, you know, I don't have a board for drawing such things. I am drawing boardless, I am afraid.  MOUSES!

My brother Rushton suggested that perhaps, for the peep's birthday, we could all be on our very best behaviour for the entire day.  It sounded like a good idea at first until Tess reminded me that we gave the peep that, last year, and it didn't work out so well.  Turns out, we seven cats aren't actually capable of being on our best behaviour for twenty-four hours.  At least not twenty-four hours in a row, if you know what I mean.

Then I thought to myself, if we're talking about things being in a row, how about ducks?  It has been raining here a lot as of late - over four inches the other day! - and I'm pretty sure flocks of ducks will be arriving any moment now.

But ducks, of course, made me think of that wand toy in the living room, just BEGGING me to give it a biff.  It has a feather on its end, you see, and ducks, of course, have feathers, too.  MOUSES!

My sister Tobias had the most brilliant idea of all.  She suggested we give the peep some toys. Couple wand toys and nip mice always go over well.  I know I'd love that for my birthday, for sure. And if we're being really generous, we can put the toys in a box, wrap it up and stick a feather...  I mean, a bow on it.

Since it is a well-known fact that the best birthday gifts have bows on them, we cats decided to go with the box of toys.  Sticking a bow on a box of toys is easy enough to do, unlike sticking a bow on a well-behaving cat.  A lesser-known fact is that sticking a bow on a cat is never a good idea and believe me, I speak from experience on this matter.  MOUSES!

No, no...  The peeps have never stuck a bow on me.  I, on the other paw, did try to stick bows on all my fur-sibs, last year, when we were going to be on our best behaviour for a whole day for Peep #1's birthday.  Let's just say that by my attempting to stick a bow on Tess, the whole best behaviour idea was pretty much doomed from the start.  MOUSES!

Perhaps I should have tried gluing a feather on her...

But I digress.  It's time to get this here blog post back on track.  As I was saying earlier, my peeps have attention spans equivalent to extremely inattentive gnats.  You'd never catch us cats being so easily distracted.  When we concentrate on something, we really concentrate on it and we don't go around changing our minds all willy nilly.  No, we cats...

Oohhh....   Is that a nip mouse I see? MOUSES!