that feeling

You ever get that feelin'? You know the one.  That feelin' that someone is watchin' you.  Maybe even starin' at you. Yeah, that's the one.

Well I get that feelin' all the time.  And when I say all the time, I mean, ALL THE TIME.  Why just a couple days ago, my second nap of the afternoon was totally ruined when I sensed that someone was watchin' me.  Starin' at me.  Woke me right up, right there, and right then. MOUSES!

So I opened my eyes and what did I see?  Peep #1.  Figures.  MOUSES!

Yeah, Peep #1 thinks she's entitled to look at me as much as she likes.  She says she can't help it. She says it's my own fault.  She says it's my own fault for bein' so cute, you see.

Well let me tell you somethin':  I CAN'T HELP BEIN' CUTE!  It just comes to me naturally. MOUSES!

But the night before last, I got Peep #1 back.

Oh yeah.

So the peep was lyin' there, sound asleep, when somethin' got her to wake up.  I'm not quite sure what that somethin' was but it might - MIGHT - have had somethin' to do with a certain noise made by a certain marmalade cat.

Anyway...

So the peep was lyin' there, sound asleep.  Then she woke up.  And when she opened her eyes, what did she see?  She saw me.  MOUSES!

There I was, as good as gold...

And when I say I was as good as gold, I quite literally mean as good as gold, on account of my, firstly, bein' very good and secondly, my orange fur bein' golden orange in colour and uh...  um...

Now where was I?  Oh yeah.

Anyway...

So there I was, starin' at the peep.  Just starin' at her. Starin'!  Like she does to me.  MOUSES!

Well apparently, accordin' to the peep, wakin' up to find me starin' at her is unnerving.

NOW SHE KNOWS HOW I FEEL.  MOUSES!

I figure that if a cat can look at a queen, said cat can most certainly look at their peep.

Of course, the jury is still out on whether or not peeps may stare at their cats.

Actually, that's not true.  The jury came back on that one and they decided that it is rude for a peep to stare at a cat without the cat's written permission.  Written.  As in written on paper, and not some stupid rumour or heresay or anythin' else like that.  MOUSES!

And speakin' of stuff that was written...

Way back when, some peep wrote a nursery rhyme statin' that a cat went all the way to London to look at the Queen.  This peep also made mention of mice.  Or a mouse.  One little mouse, I do believe.  One little mouse who was under a chair and since it was the Queen's chair, I'm thinkin' it was actually a throne and...

Hmmm...

Only throne we have at my house is the one in the bathroom and it's not so much a throne as it is a...  Well...  You know...  A toilet.

Plus, no mice live under there.  MOUSES!

But that begs the question...

How come peeps get thrones and cats get litter boxes?  I mean, if a cat can scare a wee little mouse sittin' under the Queen's chair, aka throne, aka toilet, SURELY said cat shouldn't have to do his or her business in a plastic litter box.  After all, I...  uh...  um...

Now where was I again?

Oh yeah.

The thing is, no cat should ever be subjected to a peep starin' at him so much that the starin' wakes said cat up from his afternoon nap.  MOUSES!