stupid peep

Stupid peep.

MOUSES!

HEY PEEPERS!  PEEPERS!

Are you deaf, woman?

PEEPERS!!!

Don't give me that look.  What did I say?

Well if you'd been payin' attention the FIRST time I called out your name, I wouldn't have had to have been yellin', now would I.

Not a question.  Statement of fact.

MOUSES!

What?

Oh yeah, I had somethin' to say.  And believe-you-me, that somethin' is super duper important, for sure.

So anyway...

So anyway Peepers, you went and hung that bird feeder up way, way, WAY too high.

You know the one.  The red one.  The one hangin' above the railin' on the veranda.

Why?  Why do I say it's too high?

Well...

Well Saffy Saffron Sassifras was watchin' some birdies flittin' about out there yesterday afternoon.  Why they were flittin' in this heat, I don't know, but that's birds for you, I guess.

MOUSES!

But anyway...

But anyway, Saffron was watchin' them birdies and one of 'em flew right over to the feeder and sat on its edge.  And no sooner did he - or she, I didn't ask - land on the feeder, but Saffy was off like a flash.  Why Saffy was runnin' and jumpin' in this heat, I don't know, but that's a Saffy for you, I guess.

MOUSES!

But like I was sayin'...

Like I was sayin', Saffy jumped up onto the railin' with a mind to catchin' that birdie, but do you know what he found out?

Well DO you, Peepers?  DO you?  Do you know what my brother Saffy Saffron Sassifras found out?

Don't bother answerin', ol' peepsqueak of mine, for I shall be happy to give you the answer:  SAFFRON DISCOVERED THAT YOU, PEEPERS, HUNG THAT BIRD FEED UP WAY, WAY, WAY TOO HIGH.

No way, no how, can a kitty reach a birdie sittin' on a feeder hangin' up that high.

Not even when said kitty is up on the railin'.

Note to self: order another kitty-friendly stepladder on-line.  Last one mysteriously disappeared.

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.

eighty-three weeks

Social distancin', Saffron.  SOCIAL DISTANCIN'!  If there's one thing I, Seville the Cat, know; it's that social distancin' saves lives.

Okay, so I, Seville the Cat, happen to know a lot of things.  I certainly know more than ONE.  Why, I know...

Well...

Well I just know lots of stuff, okay?  Lots and LOTS of stuff.  More stuff than I can possibly detail here on my blog.  Why, if I, Seville the Cat, were to detail all the stuff I know, it would take up a whole book!  And it would be a super duper long book, for sure.

Maybe even a trilogy.

MOUSES!

Stuff Seville the Cat knows: Book 1.

MOUSES!

But where was I?

Oh yeah, I was remindin' Saffron about social distancin'.  And WHY was I remindin' him 'bout social distancin', you ask?  That's a very good question, indeed.

Okay, so maybe not THAT good of a question.  I mean, we've been doin' this social distancin' stuff for like four hundred and fifty-one million, seven hundred and eighty-five thousand, six hundred cat seconds now.  We should all have it down pat.

And some of us do, actually.  Some more than others.

But I digress.

MOUSES!

Point is, durin' a pandemic, social distancin' and limitin' one's social circles can save lives.  My soon-to-be brother, Saffron, has very much taken this to heart; which explains why he's still not ready to come live inside the house, I suppose.  What with his keepin' his distance from the peeps and all, but...

But...

But he does get up close and personal to Peepers every mornin', now.  Sometimes in the afternoon, too!  Yup, and he rubs up against her legs and purrs and purrs and purrs.  It's true.  Saffron lets Peepers pet him and stuff.  He LOVES bein' petted, in fact, and said pettin' makes him purr all the more.  But when the peep tries to pick him up...

Well, Saffron is not into that.

MOUSES!

But it has come to my attention this past week that Saffron and I are gonna have to have THE TALK.

Yup, that's the one.

MOUSES!

Saffron, when it comes to social distancin', it's very, very, VERY important to apply this technique to not only stranger peeps, but also...

TICKS.

MOUSES!

That's right, Peepers found a tick on the back of Saffron's neck the other day.  AND she found another one by his ear, today!  She got 'em both off, which is pretty darn amazin' considerin' the fact that Saffron is apparently still social distancin' with the peep to some extent but hey, my Peep #1 can be pretty resourceful when need be.

But the thing is...

The thing is...

The thing is, Saffron, it's very, very, VERY IMPORTANT to social distance from ticks!

MOUSES!

And since you've failed at Social Distancin' from Ticks 101, don't be too surprised when Peepers comes at you with a dab of the stinky stuff for the back of your neck.  It doesn't hurt but yeah, it's definitely gonna stink.

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.

and she's down

 

Oh. My. MOUSES.

OH MY MOUSES!

This is goin' straight to YouTube, for sure.

MOUSES!!!

For mousin' out loud, Peepers, YOU'RE NOT A CAT.  I said, YOU'RE NOT A CAT!  How come you're out there in the cold, pretendin' you're as good as cat?

Unbelievable.  It's mousin' out loud, UNBELIEVABLE!  Peepers is out there on the driveway, playin' with the garden hose, thinkin' she's a CAT!

She's out there tryin' to put the hose away for the winter - which is ALWAYS a good show, I must admit - but this year, she's doin' it, thinkin' she's a cat.

MOUSES!

Now normally, Peepers struggles gettin' the hose all wiped down and wound up.  Well not so much with the wipin' down part.  She seems to know how to do that.  But with the windin' up?  Oh, she's a hopeless wreck when it comes to that.

The hose never seems to wanna let itself be coiled up, you see.  It's always tryin' to break free.

Excuse me for a mo.

HEY PEEPERS!  FIRSTLY, YOU'RE NOT A CAT.  SECONDLY, YOU'RE NOT AS GOOD AS ONE, EITHER.  AND THIRDLY...  THIRDLY, IF YOU REALLY WANNA BE CATLIKE, YOU'VE GOTTA GET DOWN ON ALL FOURS!

YOU HAVE NO BALANCE STANDIN' ON TWO FEET  LIKE THAT, PEEPERS.  Take it from me.  Take it from a REAL cat.  YOU'RE GONNA...

And she's down.

Just like that.

MOUSES!

So Peepers is out there in the driveway, usin' her feet as paws - which is workin' - but she's still usin' her hands as hands, you see, and that, my friends, is the problem.  She needs to use her hands as paws, too.

And she's back up!

Can't keep a good peep down.

But at this very moment, Peepers is PRECARIOUSLY balanced on only two feet...  I mean, paws.  I mean...  Hind legs?  That'll do.  Hind paws!  That's better, for sure.

Anyway, she has her hind paws standin' on the parts of the garden hose she has already coiled up, and as she winds up more of that there hose, she stands on the added coiled bits, until...

AND WE'RE BACK DOWN, FOLKS.

Until she loses her balance and falls.

Paws crossed I've got enough battery power in this here camera to keep filming 'til she's done.

THIS HERE FILM IS GONNA GO VIRAL, FOR SURE!

Peepers is such a failure as a cat.

And that, my friends, is that.

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.

it's beginnin' to look a lot like...

IT'S BEGINNIN' TO LOOK A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS.  All the...

Hmmm...  LOOK like Christmas?  It's beginnin' to LOOK a lot like Christmas?

Nah, that's not right but I can fix it, for sure.

IT'S BEGINNIN' TO SMELL A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS.  All the...

"SEVILLE!  WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?  WHAT'S THAT DISGUSTING SMELL?"

I'm makin' Christmas candy, Peepers.  Wanna taste?

MOUSES!

"It doesn't smell like candy, Seville.  And I thought I told you not to use the stove."

Never, ever, EVER have you told me to not use the stove, Peepers.  What you have said is, you don't want me jumpin' up ONTO the stove, and I'm not, see?   I'm sittin' on this here stool, BESIDE the stove.  Beside, not on.  Beside and on are not the same thing, Peepers.  Did they not teach you anythin' useful in school?  I sure do hope you didn't pay a lot for that education of yours 'cause quite frankly, if you did, you got gypped.

MOUSES!

*Peepers sighs*  Then what are you making?  It stinks, Seville.  It really, REALLY stinks."

That's because your sense of smell isn't as refined as mine on account of my bein' a cat and you bein' a mere peep.  That, and the fact that you have rotten taste.

MOUSES!

Don't look at me like that, Peepers.  Don't you roll your eyes at me.  Like I said, I'm makin' candy.  I'm usin' a recipe I found in one of your cookbooks.  A recipe for fruit jellies.

"You are?  What did you do, then?  Did you burn the sugar?  Fruit jellies shouldn't stink like that."

Don't be ridiculous, Peepers.  Firstly, my cookin' doesn't stink.   And secondly, I'm not usin' sugar.  I'm a cat.  I don't like sugar!  I left out all the stupid stuff like sugar and fruit, and replaced 'em with GOOD things like catnip and chicken bones.  Sound good?

"NO...  It sounds gross, which shouldn't be a surprise, I suppose, as it SMELLS gross, too."

*Seville breaths in deeply*  AH....  Nope, I think it smells just right.  Wanna paw over that buttered dish?  I think my nippy chicken bone candy is about ready to pour.

"You're on your own here, Seville.  I'm getting out of your way before I pass out from the overwhelming stink."

Suit yourself, Peepers, but be sure to come back when I start my next lot of candy.  I'm gonna try your caramel recipe.  Lots of cream and butter, NO sugar - yuk! - and a couple cans of sardines.  It's gonna be scrumptious, for sure.

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.

thirty-eight weeks

AND A VERY BAH HUMBUG TO YOU, TOO.

MOUSES!

For mousin' out loud, I've been on the phone all mornin' with the feds, tryin' to get Santa an exemption for travel due to pandemic restrictions and whatnot on Christmas Eve, and..

AND YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE HOW RUDE THOSE FEDS CAN BE!

MOUSES!

As if I didn't already have enough on my paws, havin' to be cooped up in this here house with Peepers for the past two hundred and six MILLION, eight hundred and forty-one thousand, six hundred cat seconds - which I can assure you, my friends, is an ETERNITY, for sure - 

...  And then I'm expected to put up with cheek from the feds, too?

MOUSES!

Well have no fear, my friends, I'm gonna take names and kick tail.

Or should that be kick tail and take names?

Whatever.

MOUSES!

And I'll tell you what ELSE I'll do.  I'm gonna take my very long list of those uncooperative federal authorities, and give it to Santa.  And HE'S gonna put all their names on his naughty list, for sure.

MOUSES!

Now back to those annoyin' feds.

After speakin' to like three hundred and twenty-one of 'em, one of whom was actually a janitor someone passed the phone to on account of said someone not wantin' to talk to me...

And let me tell you, the janitor was the nicest one of the bunch.  He even gave me some pointers to give to Peepers for keepin' my little boys' box spiffy clean.  Real thoughtful guy, he was.  Real thoughtful, for sure.

... I FINALLY got the information I needed.  Apparently, Santa IS Canadian (thus, the red suit) and lives at the North Pole, which is IN Canada (for all who are geographically uninclined), and therefore doesn't need a travel exemption at all!

Least not from the feds.

Like one of the FIRST three hundred and twenty federal peeps with whom I spoke couldn't have told me that.

And I'm STILL givin' their names to Santa.

MOUSES!

So anyway, Santa doesn't need a travel exemption from Ottawa.

... But to get into ATLANTIC Canada, he does.

So now I've gotta call Premier McNeil and Dr Strang, in Halifax.

MOUSES!

Paws crossed this works out.  I JUST KNOW Santa's gonna wanna visit me on the 24th.  But if I can't get him an exemption, he'll have to quarantine with us for fourteen days which to tell you the truth, wouldn't be so bad.  I mean, instead of the twelve days of Christmas, we could do the FOURTEEN days of Christmas, and he could give me prezzies on each and every one, but...

But I have no idea where the reindeer will bunk.  I don't think we have enough rooms.

MOUSES!

And anyone know if reindeer eat kibble?

Askin' for a friend.

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.

it's rainin'

It's rainin', it's pourin'; the old man is snor....

Actually, it's not.  Not rainin', I mean.  The rain has finally stopped.

MOUSES!

BUT YESTERDAY...

MOUSES!

I'm tellin' ya, it rained so hard yesterday, I thought the house was gonna get up off its foundation and float, float away.

Either that, or sink.

MOUSES!

AND THE WIND?

I'm actually kinda amazed our house didn't lift off the ground and take flight!  The wind blew and blew and BLEW, then blew a bit more.  And it went on like that for hours.  DAYS.  WEEKS!

Okay, so maybe that's a tad of an exaggeration.  The wind blew for 'bout twenty-four hours.  BUT IN CAT TIME, you've gotta multiply that by nine, so by MY calculations, it had to have been blowin' for approximately a week, two days, five hours, and fifteen minutes, give or take a second or two.  Or nine.

MOUSES!

Then this mornin', Peepers had to go out and check for damage in the yard.  I would have gone with her but the ground was all wet and icky, and I like to keep my paws dry.

Heeheehee...

HEEHEEHEE...

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

You want in on the joke?

Of course you do.

MOUSES!

When Peepers came back inside this mornin' - you know, after her checkin' in the yard for wind damage - her shoes were so sodden, she could have wrung 'em out and collected a gallon of water.

Yup, the ground was that wet.

PUDDLES EVERYWHERE!

Wait.  Wait a minute.  You just hold on there, ol' peep of mine.  PEEPERS!  PEEPERS!  Peepers, there are puddles out there?  PUDDLES?  YOU DIDN'T TELL ME!!!  Puddles are full of puddle water and I love puddle water.  Love it?  No, I ADORE IT, for sure.  I, Seville the Cat, AM A CONNOISSEUR of the puddle water, you see.

COME ON PEEP.  Grab those soakin' wet shoes of yours and put 'em on your paws...  I mean, feet.  There's puddle water out there just waitin' for me.

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.

thirty-seven weeks

You know what they say...

They say, the lights are on, but nobody's home.

Clearly, these people have met my peep.

MOUSES!

So I was chattin' with the ol' peep this mornin' and remindin' her 'bout how she and I have been cooped up in this ol' house together now for like thirty-seven weeks, due to the pandemic thing.  Yup, we've been pretty much cooped up here together for two hundred and one million, three hundred and ninety-eight thousand, four hundred cat seconds, and...

AND SHE DIDN'T FIND ANYTHIN' WRONG WITH THAT, AT ALL.

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?

MOUSES!

Of course, my bein' cooped up with her IS a whole lot harder on me, than her bein' able to spend extra time with me is, on her.

I mean...

I mean, it's kinda like an honour and a privilege for her to be spendin' all day, every day, with me, right?  A real HONOUR.  A real privilege, too.  On the other paw, my havin' to spend day in and day out with Peepers is a struggle of the greatest magnitude, for sure.

Why, just the other day...

Just the other day, I said to the peep, "Peepers, you're gonna wanna do something 'bout this here mess you left on the kitchen floor," and her reply was...

"Blah blah blah...  Blah blah, blah.  Blah blah, blah blah, blah BLAH."

So I said, "WHAT?"

Then she blahhed a bit more, which was difficult to understand on account of my not really listenin' to her blahhin' and blatherin', on account of her blatherin' usually bein' super stupid.  So again I had to ask, "WHAT?"

Well that did it.  She gave me THE LOOK.

And then...

Then she accused ME of makin' the mess in the kitchen.

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?

MOUSES!

Now sure, some of that mess might very well have happened when I knocked over the bag of my special kibble, but...

BUT IT'S NOT MY FAULT SAID KIBBLE BAG WAS LEANIN' UP AGAINST THE ISLAND LIKE IT WAS, JUST ASKIN' TO BE KNOCKED OVER.

Askin'?  No, it was practically BEGGIN'.

SHE left the bag there, open and easily accessible.  She did it.  Yes, SHE.  Therefore, it was HER FAULT it got knocked over in the first place.

DON'T PEEPS UNDERSTAND THAT IF THEY DON'T WANT SOMETHIN' KNOCKED OVER, THEY SHOULDN'T LEAVE SAID SOMETHIN' IN A PLACE WHERE IT CAN BE KNOCKED ABOUT?

DON'T THEY?

Of course they don't.

MOUSES!

Now here is my predicament, my friends.  My predicament havin' to do with Peepers.  In about four weeks or so, we have Christmas comin' up.  Soon it's gonna be time for decoratin' the tree, and...

AND I'M NOT TAKIN' ANY RESPONSIBILITY IF SAID TREE GETS KNOCKED DOWN.

Like I said before: if you don't want messes made, don't leave potential messes lyin' about, just WAITIN' to happen.

'Cause let me tell you somethin': if I'm gonna be cooped up with the peeps for much longer, I'm gonna have a whole lot of built up energy just waitin' to be spent.

Methinks this year, the peep should nail that sucker down to the floor.

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.

the accident

 

Hmmm...  What was that noise I just heard?

Tinklin', but not tinkLY.

Stuff droppin', for sure, but more thunky than tinkly, if you know what I mean.

"ARRRGGGGHHHH!!!"

Now that was a screech if I ever heard one.  Could be a screech owl, I suppose.  Could also be the peep.

Maybe Peepers is practicin' her singin'?

I, Seville the Cat, must investigate.

*looks about and perks up ears*

AH-HA!  Methinks the sounds are comin' from the other room.

*stealthily approaches the kitchen door*

PEEPERS!  WHAT THE MOUSES ARE YOU DOIN' IN HERE?  WHAT'S ALL THIS STUFF ALL OVER THE FLOOR?

*sniffs*

Food, but not edible food.  BIRD food, I do believe.

MOUSES!

Peepers, might I ask why you've scattered bird seed all over the kitchen floor?  Besides the fact that you've made an utter and complete mess, the birds are outside, AND WE DON'T WANT 'EM EATIN' INDOORS.

Cat got your tongue, there, Peepers?

BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!  That was a good one, for sure.  I know one shouldn't laugh at one's own jokes, but hey, when you're as funny I am, stuff happens.

MOUSES!

So anyway, why DID you scatter bird seed all over the floor?  You goin' nuts there, ol' peep of mine?  Bonkers?  Losin' control?

Not that I haven't already seen the signs...

PEEPERS!  YOU HARD OF HEARIN', AS WELL?

"It was an accident."

*sniffs the air*

Nope, I don't smell any accidents.  Usually when you or I have an accident, there are poopies or somethin' on the wrong side of the litter box, but I can always sniff that out in a jiff, an'...

"NOT THAT KIND OF ACCIDENT, SEVILLE.  And you know darn well I don't use your litter box."

Good thing, too.  I'm not sharin' my box with no peep.

MOUSES!

"If you must know, I went to pour the birdseed into the measuring cup I use to fill the feeders, and I accidentally poured it all on the floor."

Just as I thought, YOU ARE losin' it there, Peepers.

Losin'...  Lost...  Whatever.

MOUSES!

But don't you worry there, ol' peep of mine.  All is not lost.  Now I'm talking 'bout the bird seed bein' lost...  Or not lost...  Or whatever, and not your mind...  'Cause believe you me, that ship sailed ages and ages ago.

Sailed away and was lost at sea, I suppose.

But back to my point.  'Bout the birdseed, I mean.  Peepers, at least it wasn't MY food you poured all over the floor, 'cause that would have been a tragedy, for sure.  I mean, my food is mine, right?  My food is valuable.  My food belongs in my tummy, and not scattered all over to be stepped on and mushed all about.  Had you spilled MY food like that...  UGH....  Makes me just shiver at the thought.

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.

thirty-six weeks

 

Ugh.

YUK!

That's so totally and utterly DISGUSTIN'.

MOUSES!

PEEPERS, GO TAKE A SHOWER, WILL YA?  YOU'RE COVERED FROM HEAD TO PAW IN DIRT.

MOUSES!

And how many times have you asked me, "Did you have to roll around in the dirt, Seville?"  Huh?  HUH?  HOW MANY TIMES?

And how many times did I answer, "Of course," but that's besides the point 'cause we're talking 'bout you here, and not me.

MOUSES!

And did you, Peepers?  DID YOU?  Did you go outside and roll around in the dirt?  Did you roll this way, then that way, then smush your tush back and forth 'til all the sand and mud and dirt was imbedded in your furs?  Then once all that dirt was imbedded, did you smush your tush some more?  DID YOU?  'Cause let me tell you somethin', ol' peep of mine...

YOU SURE DO LOOK LIKE YOU DID.

MOUSES!

I know you've been stayin' home as much as possible durin' the last one hundred and ninety-five million, nine hundred and fifty-five thousand, two hundred cat seconds due to this pandemic thing, but...

BUT YOUR STAYIN' HOME ALL THE TIME IS A WHOLE LOT HARDER ON ME THAN YOU, and you don't see ME out there rollin' around in the dirt, DO you.

Okay, so maybe you do, but I'm a cat, and cats do that sorta thing but you, my dear Peepers, are merely a peep.

So next time...

NEXT TIME...

Next time you go out to rake leaves and garden and stuff, DON'T MAKE LIKE A CAT AND ROLL AROUND IN THE DIRT only to come back in the house as filthy as filthy can be.

And in the meantime...

KEEP YOUR GRUBBY OL' PAWS AWAY FROM ME.  Social distancin' IS a thing, you know.

Nothin' worse than gettin' covered in peep-used, second paw dirt, you see.

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.

thirty-five weeks

As those of you who follow my fan page over on Facebook probably already know, I, Seville the Cat, have been battling a stupid ol' squeak that has attached itself to my desk.

No, not a mouse.  A squeak.  An actual annoying whining ol' squeak.

HEY PEEPERS!  GET YOUR TAILLESS TAIL OVER HERE AND GET RID OF THIS STUPID OL' SQUEAK!

Yup, that's what I said and that's how I said it, and everythin'.

And do you know what happened next?

Nothin', that's what.  Nothin'. Nadda.  Not a thing.

MOUSES!

So...

So I repeated myself, only this time I repeated it more loudly.

HEY PEEPERS!  GET YOUR TAILLESS TAIL OVER HERE AND GET RID OF THIS STUPID OL' SQUEAK!

And again, ol' Peepers did nothin'.

Can you believe it?

MOUSES!

Personally, I'm thinkin' she's gettin' hard of hearin' in her old age.  I mean, when you're as old as the hills - maybe older - I'm pretty sure hearin' is one of the first things to go.

On the other paw, maybe it's those earplugs she ordered from Amazon after my four in the mornin' complaints 'bout this pandemic.

And spreakin' of complainin'...

I, Seville the Cat, am OFFICIALLY complaining 'bout the fact that I've been stuck here in this ol' house with this REALLY OLD peep who, I am sure, is as old as a T-Rex - maybe even older - for thirty-five weeks now.  I'll do the math for you 'cause it's way too complicated for most peeps.  Thirty-five weeks is the equivalent to one hundred and ninety million, five hundred and twelve thousand cat seconds, and...

And that's a whole lot of cat seconds, for sure.

Don't you know.

MOUSES!

So...

So if I'm gonna be stuck here with Peepers for millions and millions of years - I mean, cat seconds, although truth be told, it FEELS like the very same thing - the last thing I want is to be stuck in the same room as a squeaky ol' desk.  It squeaks EVERY TIME I jump up on it and it squeaks even more if I do somethin' like scratch behind an ear or roll around or thwap my tail against it or...  Or...  Or anythin' else we cats like to do on desks, AND IT'S DRIVIN' ME CRAZY, you see.

Even crazier than the peep can drive me, and let me tell you somethin', with Peepers in the drivin' seat, it's a ONE WAY trip to CRAZYland, for sure.

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.

Saffron

So...

SO...

So it looks like I'm gettin' a siblin'.

MOUSES!

Peepers has already named her, Saffron.

Now, I say her, on account of Peepers thinkin' she's a girl, but you know the peep: she's not very good at that sort of thing.  Might I remind you 'bout my brothers Nerissa, Desdemona, and Calista?  Not to mention my sisters Mason and Tobias.

MOUSES!

So here's the deal: a few weeks ago, while out on a walk, Peepers met up with a charcoal grey kitty a couple blocks away.  Said kitty was sittin' pretty in someone's front lawn and Peepers thought for sure she lived at that house.  New peeps had recently moved in, you see, and she figured she belonged there.  Plus, she looked pretty confident.  Confident like a kitty looks while out and about patrollin' their own property.

A few days later, Peepers saw the same kitty on the lawn across the street but hey, maybe the kitty was wantin' to meet her new neighbours?

But then three weeks ago or so, Peepers met up with a charcoal grey kitty sittin' in a ditch on a totally different street, 'bout halfway between our - I mean, MY - house and the first house I mentioned.  Now this kitty was far more timid than the one she first saw, and when Peepers said hello, the kitty ran away, which is odd on account of Peepers talkin' to birdies and rocky raccoons and even skunks on a regular basis and NONE OF 'EM EVER run away.

I'm surprised some of 'em haven't followed her home.

MOUSES!

But I digress.

Well about two weeks ago, Peepers saw a charcoal kitty on our - again, I mean, MY - veranda, watchin' the birdies.  Now this kitty looked an awful lot like the kitty or kitties she saw before, but THIS kitty was super scared.  When Peepers opened the front door, the kitty ran off at top speed like a bat out of you-know-where.

But not one to be daunted...

Not one to be daunted, Peepers started puttin' some food - MY food, and don't even think I don't know it - out on the veranda every mornin' and sure enough, the little charcoal grey kitty has been coming every single day for brekkies.  She eats everythin' Peepers gives her so she's definitely hungry, but when Peepers puts out a second serving in the afternoon, she'll leave some of that on the plate.  Clearly she's not a feline vacuum like my late brother Andy.

But she's still scared.  Super duper scared, if you know what I mean.  She won't let Peepers anywhere near her.

Of course, she might just be practicin' public health protocols and be really good 'bout social distancin' and that sort of thing.

MOUSES!

And now...

And now, gosh darn it, Peepers has gone and named her.  And you know what they say.  They say, once you name a kitty, said kitty is yours.

MOUSES!

Peepers is sure Saffron is not feral.  Probably abandoned, and maybe that first day when she saw her, Saffron had only recently been abandoned but over time, she has become more and more scared of people.  Peepers is hopin' that day by day, she'll be able to gain more and more of Saffron's trust and then we can get her inside.  And then, my friends, I'll have a new sister.

Or brother.

That's still to be determined.

MOUSES!

Peepers really needs to stop namin' kitties from afar, you know?  Gives kitties a complex when manly mancats have girly-girl names, and the lovely ladycats' names are all butch.

But hey, Peepers name is PEEPERS - HAHAHAHAHAAAA... - and that's about as weird as a name can possibly get.

AM I RIGHT?

Of course I am right.

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.

thirty-four weeks

BRING ON THE NIP. 

I said, BRING ON THE NIP!

Peepers, are you listenin' to me?

Well then, WHAT'S KEEPIN' YA?

BRING ON THE NIP!!!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', why am I celebratin' havin' been cooped up in this here ol' house for thirty-four weeks with the peeps?

And in case you didn't know, thirty-four weeks is like two hundred and sixty-two MILLION, one hundred and eighty thousand, eight hundred seconds, in cat time.

MOUSES!

Well...

WELL...

Well truth be told, I'm NOT celebratin' bein' cooped up in this here ol' house for two hundred and sixty-two MILLION, one hundred and eighty thousand, eight hundred cat seconds, at all.

I mean, who would be so stupid as to be celebratin' that?

MOUSES!

What I'm celebratin' is the fact that I, Seville the Cat, HAVE NIP.

MOUSES!

That's right, my friends, my 2020 harvest has been completed and we now have A WHOLE WHACK of nip in the house.

I SAID, WE HAVE NIP IN THE HOUSE!

And it's not just any ol' nip, either.  This here catnip is primo, premium, high-grade stuff.  Organically grown, and everythin'.

NO...  No, I didn't fertilise it by sprayin'.

And thankfully, no one else did that, either.

I did what any gentlecat farmer would do.  I used sheep poopies for plant food.

But they were WELL COMPOSTED poopies, for sure!

Which makes 'em okay.

Or so I am told.

MOUSES!

But the thing is...

THE THING IS...

THE IMPORTANT THING IS, as COVID-19 numbers are surgin' in various parts of Canada as wave two of this pandemic thingy is in full force here, now, it looks like I'm gonna be cooped up in this ol' house for millions and millions of cat seconds to come.

But...

BUT...

BUT AS ANY CAT WILL TELL YOU, IT'S WAY EASIER TO BE COOPED UP WITH A COUPLE OF GOOD-FOR-NOTHIN' PEEPS WHEN YOU'VE GOT A FULL HOUSELOAD OF CATNIP ON BOARD.

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.

thirty-three weeks

...  AND AN HOUR.

Cat hour, that is.

MOUSES!

Yup, I've been stuck here in this ol' house with the peeps for thirty-three weeks now, plus one extra hour on account of Daylight Standard Time kickin' in last night, which means I'VE BEEN STUCK HERE IN THIS OL' HOUSE WITH THE PEEPS FOR ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-NINE MILLION, SIX HUNDRED AND FIFTY-EIGHT THOUSAND CAT SECONDS.

And that's a whole lotta time, for sure.

MOUSES!

So word in the alley is, cats and peeps, far and wide, have been wonderin' what I did with that whole extra hour this mornin'.

Well...

Well...

Well I did what any respectable kitty would do and slept right through it.

MOUSES!

You know, peeps are up in arms - and probably legs, too - cloggin' up my social media, complaining 'bout the ol' changin' of the clocks thing, and I'm wonderin'...

DON'T YOU HAVE ANY BETTER THINGS TO DO?

I mean...

I mean...

I mean, you got a whole extra hour of sleep last night.

WHAT'S THERE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT?

MOUSES!

Yeah, yeah, their CIRCADIAN RHYTHMS are all outta whack.  Well let me tell you somethin', peeps out there: circadian rhythms are detrimentally affected by stress, too, so gettin' all stressed out 'cause I, Seville the Cat, got to have an extra hour of sleep last night and didn't have to wake up 'til after the sun rose this mornin', isn't gonna help your cause much now, is it.

Not a question; it's a statement of fact.

MOUSES!

And what's more...

And what's more...

And what's more, you peeps don't know how lucky you are.  First of all, you peeps get to choose what time to get up, when you get to go to bed, and when brekkies will be served, not to mention lunches, sup-sups, and snacks.  YOU PEEPS get to make all the rules.  YOU PEEPS are in control of the clocks!

You should try dealin' with an out of whack circadian rhythm when you're a cat.

MOUSES!

So what if my tummy was grumblin' this mornin' when brekkies were served an hour late?

SO WHAT?

I got an extra hours sleep out of that.  PLUS, my brekkies bein' an hour later than normal was the perfect opportunity for me to give Peepers the ol' stink eye with good reason.  PLUS, I managed to convince her to give me a larger brekkie than normal on account of those tummy rumbles.  PLUS, did I mention how I got in an extra hour of sleep?

And you all know what THAT means...

It means I'll be extra well rested this evenin' and ready for Midnight zoomies at eleven, instead of twelve.

Or will that be at one?

That part always confuses me.

It'll be zoomie time when I'M ready to zoom, that's when.  'Cause although you peeps might have control of the clocks, I, SEVILLE THE CAT, have control over zoomin'.

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.

whoa, nelly!

Whoa, Nelly!  WHOA, NELLY!!!  There are some things a kitty can never unsee.

MOUSES!

What the mouses are you doin' there, Peepers?  You wanna terrorise the kiddies, this Hallowe'en?

What do you mean, what do you mean?  WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

But I thought...

But it seemed...

I was so sure.

Gosh golly and darn it, a kitty sees his peep first thing in the mornin' before she's combed her hair and washed her face, and the next thing you know, SAID KITTY IS GETTIN' IN TROUBLE FOR THINKIN' THE UNCOMBED AND UNWASHED FRIGHTENIN' MESS BEFORE HIM IS A HALLOWE'EN COSTUME.

MOUSES!

And to be fair, she did look super scary.

So Hallowe'en is comin' up this weekend and it's lookin' like it's gonna be a lot different from other years, for sure.  For one thing, peeps have been wearin' masks for the last few months, so puttin' on a Hallowe'en mask is gonna be like...

Well...

Like your normal day when grocery shoppin'.

MOUSES!

Although truth be told, perhaps had Peepers been wearin' a mask this mornin', she wouldn't have scared me half to death when I saw her.

Good thing the litter box was nearby.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of litter boxes...

Not MY fault what I deposited in it is frightening.

But alas, my friends, I'm afraid there's no Hallowe'en adventure this year on account of flyin' fryin' pan and teleportation - not to mention broomstick - travel restrictions.  Plus, with social distancin' and limits on gatherings, the Weasel Syndicate's activities have been placed on hold for the mo.  Of course, this is a good thing, even if a little boring, so...

So...

SO...

So I thought to myself, what better way to enjoy Hallowe'en than by readin' some of my Hallowe'en adventures from Hallowe'ens past?

Did you know they say that if you say Hallowe'en three times in a row, somethin' super scary and grotesque will appear?

At least that's what I've heard.

*looks about*

Guess it's not true though.  Must be nothin' more than some kinda urban legend.

AAARGH!!!

Sorry 'bout that.  It was just Peepers walkin' into the room.

MOUSES!

But back to the topic at paw: my past Hallowe'en adventures.  I'm includin' the links to adventures of Hallowe'ens past, so feel free to pull up a chair and click on a link, and you'll be magically transported to a frightfully fun-filled Hallowe'en adventure.

Oh-oh.  I just said Hallowe'en three times again.  Bet Peepers will be walkin' back into the room any time now.

MOUSES!

2019:  The Haunting

2018:  The Contest

2017:  The Hallowe'en Ball

2016:  The Hallowe'en Visitor

2015:  A Hallowe'en Adventure and And Now, the Conclusion

2014:  The Broom Closet

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

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.

thirty-two weeks

Social distancin', people.  SOCIAL DISTANCIN'!!!

What?  What's that you're sayin' there, little birdy?

Oh.

Hmmm...

Well then...

Social distancin' birdies.  SOCIAL DISTANCIN'!!!

I'm tellin' ya, those birdies are gettin' WAY TOO CLOSE to me, for comfort.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', why would I, Seville THE CAT, mind little birdies gettin' close enough for me to reach out a paw, and...

'Cause peeps frown over my reachin' out my paws to touch birdies, that's why.

MOUSES!

If you remember, my last blog post was about those blue jays eatin' us out of house and home and if you're wonderin' if they're still doin' that, wonder no more.  They are still doin' it, for sure.

MOUSES!

But this here post isn't just 'bout blue jays.  No sirree.  This here post is 'bout blue jays and chickadees and woodpeckers, too!

Not to mention a squirrel.

MOUSES!

This mornin' I made myself comfy on the love seat out there on the veranda waitin' for the Bird TV show to begin, when all of a sudden, the veranda EXPLODED with a flurry of activity.  Next thing I knew, there were birds of all sorts flyin' about.  No fewer than six blue jays were knockin' about the cylindrical feeders and scatterin' seed all over the ground, chickadees were dartin' in and out of the globe theatre..  I mean, feeder, and a woodpecker was hangin' from the suet one and peckin' away.  Mere minutes later, a big ol' grey squirrel came along and decided to join in on the fun.

Now you'd think that I, Seville THE CAT, would appreciate such a lively show, but...

BUT THE BIRDIES WERE GETTIN' WAY TOO CLOSE TO ME, FOR SURE!

HAVE THEY NEVER HEARD OF SOCIAL DISTANCIN', THESE BIRDS?

I'm tellin' ya, peeps here in Nova Scotia have been social distancin' for the last one hundred and seventy-four million, one hundred and eighty-two thousand, four hundred cat seconds, due to this ol' pandemic thingy, but birds?

APPARENTLY BIRDS CAN'T SOCIAL DISTANCE FOR EVEN ONE HOUR.

MOUSES!

Now I don't expect them to social distance 'mongst themselves.  I did, but I don't anymore, for that was a waste of expectations, for sure.

BUT THE LEAST THEY CAN DO IS SOCIAL DISTANCE FROM ME.

Why, you ask?  Why do I want those blue jays and chickadees and woodpeckers to keep six paws away from me at all times?

Well...

Well 'cause I'm a cat.  And cats, given the opportunity of havin' a blue jay sit there starin' at 'em merely inches away, are likely to succumb to temptation, and...

DON'T GET YOUR KNICKERS IN A TWIST THERE, WOMAN!  I TOLD 'EM TO SOCIAL DISTANCE AND THEY DIDN'T, SO IT'S NOT MY FAULT IF I CATCH A BIRDIE OR TWO.  NOT MY FAULT AT ALL!  IF THEY WERE ABIDIN'  BY THE PUBLIC HEALTH DIRECTIVES, THEY'D BE OUT OF MY REACH AND YOUR KNICKERS WOULD REMAIN UNTWISTED.

MOUSES!

As I was sayin' before havin' to explain somethin' to Peepers, when birdies fail to social distance, cats are likely to succumb to temptation and get in trouble from their peeps.

That cheeky blue jay is just lucky he can fly faster than I can swat.

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.