Canada Day weekend

I almost didn't get to blog today, my friends.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin' I was probably havin' Internet problems and stuff.

Well...

Well I was.  And to be perfectly honest, I did almost give up.  But I kept perseverin' and I finally got on.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin' if my almost not gettin' to blog today wasn't on account of my Internet issues, it was probably on account of my bein' hung over from imbibin' in the nip yesterday, celebratin' Canada Day.

Well...

Well that could be true.  Kinda.  I mean, I did imbibe in a lot of catnip yesterday, celebratin' the birthday of our great nation and all, but...

But...

BUT TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH, I STILL AM!  

Imbibin', that is.

And I don't think the hangover bit starts 'til after you stop sniffin' the nip; and I'm plannin' on celebratin' Canada Day All. Weekend. Long.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin' that if my almost not getttin' to blog today wasn't on account of my lousy Internet connection or a catnip hangover, you can't possibly be expected to think of any other reason, 'cept perhaps sheer laziness or somethin' like that.

Sheer laziness of PEEPERS, that is.

MOUSES!

Well...

Well Peepers can be a little sloth-like, for sure.

You should see the state of the lawn.

But Peepers' sloth-like qualities are NOT the reason for my almost not bloggin' today.  My reason does, however, have somethin' to do with the peep.

Are you ready?

You had better sit down.

So what happened is this: Early this mornin', I decided to give the ol' garden a tour.  With a sprig of catnip hangin' outta the corner of my mouth - I was chewin' on it, you see - I headed out back to check on Peepers' peppers and flowery stuff and garden type things.  Well!  Well I rounded the corner and the first thing I saw was the bed where she's growin' her tomatoes.

Now NORMALLY tomato plants wouldn't be of interest to me.  After all, I'm a cat and we cats don't like tomatoey things.  Fact.

But what I saw in that bed of tomatoes was astoundin', for sure.  I don't know what the mouses she's feedin' those plants but I swear they're all at least a good five feet tall.  They're TOWERIN' outta the ground.  LITERALLY!  They're so tall...

They're so tall I can barely see the tops of 'em.

Most of 'em are taller than Peepers, for sure!

And the thing is...

The thing is, this is only the second of July.  And they still have another three months to grow taller!

Now these mutant tomato plants belongin' to Peepers have me worried for two very good reasons.  Firstly, I have concerns 'bout those darned vines takin' over the whole garden and usin' up space better used for the growin' of nip.

And secondly...

Well secondly, I don't know 'bout you, but I'VE read the accounts of ol' Jack and that beanstalk and let me tell you somethin', my friends:  NO CAT, NO WHERE, HAS EVER WANTED A BIG OL' GIANT FALLIN' DOWN FROM A GIGANTIC TOMATO PLANT, THEN WANDERIN' AROUND IN HIS GARDEN, and POSSIBLY CRUSHIN' HIS CATNIP PLANTS THAT HE HAS BEEN GROWIN' WITH TENDER LOVIN' CARE.

So that, my friends, is why I almost didn't get to blog today.  I was out there starin' at those gigantic tomato plants and totally lost track of the time.  I was out there for goodness knows how long, plannin' and strategizing, figurin' out what I should do if I should happen to spot giant clodhopper feet usin' those tomato vines to climb down into MY garden.  And wonderin' if I should perhaps take a preventative axe to Peepers' plants right now, 'cause one can never be TOO CAREFUL when it comes to giants and things.

And I also had a bit of a nap.

Twenty-four plus hours of nippin' will do that, 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.

like a duck

If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck; odds are it IS a duck.

MOUSES!

So therefore...

Therefore, if it looks like a toy, hangs about like a toy, and talks like a...

Okay, so most toys don't talk.  Some do, but most don't, and I don't think any of mine even so much as murmur.

But even if it just looks like a toy, it most likely IS a toy, right?  Right.

WRONG.

MOUSES!

And that's what I had to explain to ol' Saffy Saffron Sassafras, yesterday mornin'.

MOUSES!

So the thing is, those inch or inch and a half round orange things hangin' out there in the garden aren't actually toys.  Oh sure, they LOOK like toys.  They really, really do.  They look like little orange balls a cat might wanna swat at and knock down and use for startin' up a rousin' game of field hockey or somethin' like that, but uh...

Well...

Well the thing is...

The thing is, when you swat at 'em to knock 'em down, they don't always fall and roll in the direction they've been swatted.  They don't necessarily fall at all!  Sometimes - or most often, really - instead of fallin' and rollin' where you mean for 'em to roll, they just go splat.

IN THE FACE.

MOUSES!

You see, sometimes what looks like a little orange ball meant for kitty field hockey is actually a cherry tomato.

MOUSES!

And that, my friends, is what Saffron was playin' with.  Yup, playin' with cherry tomatoes, he was.  They were hangin' there on the plant within his reach, and I guess the temptation proved to be too much, 'cause the next thing he knew...

The next thing he knew...

The next thing he knew, there was a splat.

RIGHT IN HIS FACE.

MOUSES!

So the lesson to learn here is, EVEN IF it does look like a duck...  I mean, TOY, it might not be a toy, at all.  It might be somethin' else, entirely.  It might be...

Well it just might be...

SPLAT!

SAFFRON, I THOUGHT I ALREADY WARNED YOU 'BOUT 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.

never have I ever

Never have I ever...

Never have I ever...

Never have I ever scratched the peep.

I don't think.

But to tell you the truth...

It's kinda hard to remember.

MOUSES!

Saffy, of course, can't the say the same, on account of Saffy Saffron Sassafras attackin' Peepers' legs on a daily basis.  You know, just for fun.  He says it's 'cause he loves her, but Peepers and I aren't buyin' that at all.  Peepers says it hurts and I'm inclined to believe her.

MOUSES!

But back to me and what I've done.  IF I HAVE, by chance, scratched the peep, it wouldn't have been my fault.  Nope, no sirree.  The blame would have been all the peep's.

Of course.

MOUSES!

Now let's see...

Never have I ever...

Never have I ever...

Never have I ever pooped on the floor.

Now that I CAN say I've never done, for sure.

'Cept for an occasional wrong-side-of-the-box accident kinda thing.

And if THAT happened, it, too, wasn't my fault.

Not my fault litter boxes don't come in appropriate sizes.

MOUSES!

So never have I ever...

Never have I ever...

Never have I ever eaten a tomato.

Hear that, Peepers?  Hear that?  Never have I, Seville the Cat, ever eaten a tomato WHICH IS WHY...

Which is why I really don't give a mouse's tail 'bout the fact that due to unforeseen circumstances - that have absolutely nothin' to do with me - you don't have your tomato plants in the ground yet, and are worried you might not get 'em in at all.  They can shrivel up and die in their little pots, for all I care.  Whether you grow tomatoes this year is not of any interest to me.  And do you know why?  DO you?  DO YOU?

Well I'll tell you why, I will.  I don't care 'bout those stupid tomato plants, or the tomatoes they're supposed to produce, on account of their bein' stupid.  On account of their bein' tomatoes, you see.  And on account of the fact that I, Seville the Cat, have never, ever, EVER eaten a tomato in all my nine lives and I'm not plannin' on eatin' any stupid ol' tomatoes in the future, either, so...

So I suggest you get out there and do somethin' useful like waterin' my nip plants that I asked you to water on account of CATNIP bein' a crop of great importance to me.

Unlike tomatoes.

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

Why...

Why...

Why, never have I ever heard such language comin' from a peep.

At least not while bein' directed at 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.

STAT!

"I need a crash cart!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.  "STAT!"

Steppin' out of the way of the oncoming wheelbarrow,just in the nick of time, I said, "No Andy, I don't need you to crash a cart into me.  I need a different kinda cart than that.  I need a crash cart, and I NEED IT RIGHT NOW.  STAT!"

"Whoo, whoo, whoo...  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Breathe in.  Whoo, whoo, whoo..."

I pawed Andy's paw away from my face.  "What do you think you're doin'?" I asked.  "You tryin' to smacky-paw me or somethin'?"

Andy narrowed his eyes.  "I'm checking to see what those bits of green are at the corners of your mouth, Seville.  Have you been into the nip?"

I looked aghast.  "OF. COURSE. NOT." I vehemently denied.  "I'm not eatin' the nip plants, at all," I told him.  "I'm givin' 'em mouth-to-mouth," I explained.  When Andy turned away from me for a second, I checked my reflection on the metal part of the wheelbarrow lyin' (Yes, lyin', as it had toppled over after it came careening toward me.) on the ground.  Seein' no bits of catnip between my teeth, I sighed with relief.

"Whoo, whoo, whoo...  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Breathe in.  Whoo, whoo, whoo..."

"WHERE'S THAT CRASH CART?" I yelled over my shoulder.  "MOUSES!"

I noticed that Andy was no longer standin' next to me.  "Rushy, go see what's keepin' Andy.  Light a fire under his butt, okay?"

Moments later, Rushton appeared back by my side.  He was incoherently babblin' somethin' about somethin' about goodness knows what.  MOUSES!

"What?  What's that, Rushy?  What's that you're babblin' on about now?  Gosh, Rushton, you babble 'bout nonsense, just like our peep."

Rushton smiled a big smile.  Apparently he thought it was a compliment.  MOUSES!

"Whoo, whoo, whoo...  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Breathe in.  Whoo, whoo, whoo..."

Andy reappeared.  "There you are.  FINALLY.  Where's that crash cart I need?"

My brother looked dumbfounded.   In other words, no different from usual.  MOUSES!

 "What?  WHAT?  There's not a crash cart around?  Not a single one to be found?  MOUSES!"  I continued to snack upon...  I MEAN, RESUSCITATE my baby catnip plants, all the while wonderin' what I should do next.

Then it was Andy's turn to babble like a peep and words came spillin' out of his mouth.  I did my best to make sense of what I could.

"Ol' Peepers has all the carts covered in tomatoes, you say?  Wow."

To be perfectly honest, I didn't even know we had more than one cart.  MOUSES!

"And what's with all the tomatoes, anyway?  Who the mouses cares 'bout stupid ol' tomatoes?  Why are TOMATOES coverin' all the..."

Andy interrupted with a question.

"SHE WANTS TO KNOW WHAT?  Why am I huffin' and puffin' like I'm givin' birth to kittens, Peepers asked?"

Hmmm...

Gosh darn it.  Guess I watched the wrong medical drama on the television last night.  MOUSES!

Disclaimer:  I'm not actually a doctor, but I play one on TV.

Rushton started to complain 'bout my disclaimer.

"What?" and I stopped givin' the catnip plants mouth-to-mouth for a second.  Placin' my paws on my hips, I said, "FINE, I'll fix it then." 

Disclaimer:  I'm not actually a doctor, but I've WATCHED one on TV.

"Satisfied?" I asked Rushy, and went right back to work resuscitatin' the nip plants.  "Seriously," I muttered under my breath, "what does anyone expect?  Last I heard, there weren't any medical schools acceptin' us cats.  MOUSES!"

"Whoo, whoo, whoo...  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Breathe in.  Whoo, whoo, whoo..."

Andy and Rushy both started in again with the complaints.  Complaints 'bout resuscitating and the birthin' of kittens.

"BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO!" I cried.  "This, here, is the only medical stuff I know.  This is what I saw last night on the television, and..."

"SOMEONE CALL 9-1-1 !!!" I yelled, interruptin' myself.

The peep must have heard my cries of anguish and despair for just then, she arrived on the scene.  Either that, or she's been moonlightin' as a paramedic.  "Oh, Peepers.  Thank goodness you're here.  Rushy and Andy have been TOTALLY useless, for sure.  I asked for a crash cart and got NOTHIN' but grief.  MOUSES!  Here, help me get this catnip plant onto a gurney.  You happen to have a gurney on paw?" I asked, not seein' one in the immediate vicinity.  "We need to call for an ambulance right away.  My nip plants are in dire need of medical attention.  STAT!"

The peep, bein' a peep, just stood there, twiddlin' her thumbs.

And speakin' of thumb twiddlin'...  You'd really think that peeps would learn to make better use of their thumbs.  For mousin' out loud, if we cats had 'em, WE'D BE RULIN' THE WORLD BY NOW, and don't you forget it.  MOUSES!

"Peepers, don't just stand there lookin' foolish.  I know it's kinda what you normally do, but GET IT TOGETHER, MAN!!!" I cried.  "Sorry, I meant to say, woman, or rather, just peep.  Come on, Peepers..." I practically begged.  "The catnip has been growin' so well all summer.  I can't lose my nip plants after all that.  Get me a crash cart, AND GET IT FOR ME NOW!"

And that's when the peep started in on the babblin', too.

"What?  What's that, Peepers?  What's that you're babblin' on about now?  Oh, and by the way, Rushy does a mean impression of you babblin'.  Just lettin' you know, you now have some competition, for sure.  MOUSES!"

But back to my nip.

"Whoo, whoo, whoo...  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Breathe in.  Whoo, whoo, whoo..." 

The peep then said something 'bout something 'bout frost and tomatoes which I, of course, ignored.  "Who the mouses cares 'bout your stupid tomatoes?" I muttered under my breath.  "Who?  WHO?"

And THAT, my friends, was when the peep FINALLY said somethin' of substance.

"They will?" I asked, not knowin' whether or not to believe her.  "Are you SURE?  Is this really for real?"

The peep nodded yes.

"Well I'll be..." and I let out a long whistle which, in case you didn't already know, is quite a feat for a kitty as we cats normally don't whistle.

"So you're sayin'..." I began.  "You're sayin' that UNLIKE your stupid ol' tomato plants that are now pretty much..  Well...  DEAD, The killin' frost we had last night will not kill my precious beyond priceless darlin' baby nippers?"

Again, the peep nodded.

"And they're gonna perk right up again?  Probably within the next hour?"

Once more the peep nodded her head

"Peepers, that's just about THE BEST NEWS I've heard all day!" I cried with delight.  "Yup, best news, for sure, even if the day is just beginning 'cause it's only nine in the mornin'.  But still..."

"But still..."

"Be still my heart, Peepers.  But I'm gonna STILL need that crash cart after all, 'cause I'm gonna need a place to crash out to take a very well-earned nap.  All this huffin' and puffin' has completely tuckered me out."

The peep bent down and wiped a catnip leaf from the corner of my mouth.

"Thanks, Peepers," I told her.  "And in case you were wonderin', NO.  No, I was NOT eatin' the nip plants.  Like I told Andy and Rushy earlier, I was simply giving 'em mouth-to-mouth."

"Kinda," I pawed at the ground.

"Sorta," I added, lookin' real innocent and stuff.

"Kinda like if the nip plants were sorta havin' kittens," I explained.  "You know, that type of thing."

MOUSES!

Disclaimer:  I'm not really a doctor.  I'm actually a cat, and cats can't be doctors, as a matter of fact.   MOUSES!

the enforcer

He thinks he's the enforcer.

He thinks HE'S the enforcer.

HA!

Everyone who knows ANYTHIN', knows I'M the enforcer 'round here.

MOUSES!

I'm tellin' ya, that long-haired marmie freak of a brother of mine, Andy, had best be rethinkin' what he has been thinkin', and he had best start rethinkin' his thinkin', RIGHT NOW.

MOUSES!

So this mornin', Peep #1 put her stupid little lettuce plants and stuff outside, to get some sun.

And DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED 'bout the fact she's growin' stupid lettuce plants in the first place, and not nip.  Of course, she CAN'T grow the nip.  This, my friends, is a known fact, so I guess she has to settle for stupid plants like lettuce and stuff.  Well it's HER loss, not mine, as I'm currently growin' MY VERY OWN NIP PLANTS all by MY VERY OWN SELF, but further details 'bout that endeavour will have to wait to be reported in another blog post, another day.  MOUSES!

Anyway, before I digress even further, bottom line is, the peep put her plants outside.

You know, the stupid ones.

To get some sun.

MOUSES!

Well the next thing she knew, Andy was out there, sniffin' around those plants.

Now had Andy been out there sniffin' around MY NIP PLANTS, it would have been cause for concern, but Andy, bein' Andy, was sniffin' around the lettuces.

Like a cat wants anythin' to do with lettuce.

MOUSES!

Well the peep was out there in a shot, tellin' Andy off for sniffing 'round her plants.  Why she was so concerned, I have no idea.  Like I said before, it's not like he was sniffing 'round plants of importance.  Important plants like my nip.  Now THAT would have been a travesty, for sure.

Andy, BEIN' ANDY, just looked up at her and said, "Wha?"

MOUSES!

Now before anyone twists their knickers into knots, lettuce is perfectly harmless to cats.

But back to my story.

I mean, REPORTIN'.

MOUSES!

So Andy grumbled, and he mumbled, then headed back into the house.

So anyway...

So anyway, a little while later, Peep #1 spotted Rushy outside, nosin' around those stupid ol' lettuce plants.  Up like a flash she was, headin' out to save her precious little stupidy dupidy plants.

Again, I have no idea why she was even botherin'.  I mean, IT'S NOT LIKE they were important.  It's not like they were nip, or somethin' wonderful like that.

What am I sayin'?  NOTHIN' is wonderful like nip.

MOUSES!

But before the peep could even get to Rushy, Andy was right there.  Like he had lurkin' about in hiding, somewhere.

Yeah, that's right.  Andy.  Andy, the very same cat who half an hour earlier, had been nosin' around those very same plants.

MOUSES!

"Take that!" Andy cried.  "TAKE THAT!"  And he swung at Rushy with his right, then his left - missin' the target, BOTH times - but nevertheless...

Then Rushy was down on his side, gettin' ready to bunnykick his long-haired freak of a brother.

Which, of course, made Andy think he had won.

But just at that moment, the peep arrived on the scene.  She scooped Rushy up into her arms and scolded Andy for bein' so mean.

"But I was...  But...  BUT..."

"He said BUTT!" I laughed from inside.  "THE LONG-HAIRED MARMIE BUTT-HEAD SAID BUTT!  BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

"ENOUGH!" the peep cried.  "Andy, don't be so mean to your brother.  Rushy, you come inside.  AND SEVILLE...."

"What?  What did I do?" I asked, truly perplexed.

The peep scowled.

"WHAT?"

And the peep scowled even more.

"You keep scowlin' like that, Peepers, and that face is gonna stick," I warned.  "And if you don't believe me, have you SEEN the guy at the end of the street?  Yeah, I know.  Not a pretty sight.  Not pretty at all.  That thing on his face?  That's a Permascowl.  It's just like permafreeze.  Or frost.  You know...  Whatever.  Anyway, thing is, he scowled one time too many, and it stuck.  MOUSES!"

Then the peep's scowl turned into a questioning look as she asked, "What are you talking about, Seville?"

"Stuff."

"But lookie here," I continued, "that brother of mine - ANDY - is thinkin' he's the enforcer, in this here house.  He's thinkin' that HE'S the one layin' down the law.  That HE'S the one who should be punishin' Rushy for doin' the same thing you had scolded him for doin', just moments before.  And that, dear peep, must come to a stop.  MOUSES!"

The peep's face went blank.

"Yeah, that blank stare is a good one for you.  You won't get wrinkles like that, UNLIKE when you scowl.  But anyway, the thing is, I need you to explain to Andy how I'M the enforcer in this here house."

No response from the peep.

"Did you hear what I said, Peepers?  DID YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID?"

Again, no response.

And just at that moment - that VERY moment, my friends - my sister, Mason, arrived on the scene.  "Someone call for The Enforcer?" she asked.  "I.  AM.  HERE."

MOUSES!

aloha

Aloha, my friends.  ALOHA!

Seville the Cat here, reportin' from Hawaii.

NOT!!!

Not even close, my friends.  NOT EVEN CLOSE!  Not only am I not in Hawaii, I'm not even anywhere warm, at all.  Not anywhere even close to warm, my friends.  Not even close!

Last night, you see, we had...

FROST.

MOUSES!

Oohhh..  This mornin' offered up a chilly reception, to be sure.  Why, I could practically see my breath in the air.

And when I say practically see my breath, what I REALLY MEAN is that had I gone out first thing in the mornin', I'm pretty sure I would have seen my breath, for sure.  However, I, bein' the ever-so-sensible cat that I am, stayed inside 'til it got a bit warmer.

MOUSES!

The peep's plants, however, were not so lucky.  They had been out all night, and...

Well...

Well frosted they got, for sure.

MOUSES!

The tomatoes?  They're dead.  Not that they were doin' all that well while alive, but at least they were still breathin'.

Kinda.

Sorta.

I think.

The basil and rosemary plants, she brought inside.  Good thing, too, on account of the state of those tomatoes who had been left outdoors.  Did I mention they were dead?

And the lettuce is...

Well...

Well actually, the lettuce is still growin' very nicely.

'Cept for the ones someone sat upon and squished, the other day.

MOUSES!

And if you happen to hear any reports of lettuce plants havin' been sat upon and squished by an incredibly handsome marmalade cat....

IGNORE 'EM, for those reports are the very epitome of fake news, for sure.

Kinda.

Sorta.

Maybe.

Maybe in a I-had-my-paws-crossed-behind-my-back-when-I-told-the-peep-it-wasn't-me kinda way.

And in related news...

You have any idea how difficult it is for a cat to cross his paws BEHIND his back?  We cats are simply not built that way.

MOUSES!

And as for the nip...

Well...

Well let's just say, I'm pretty sure the peep WOULD LIKE to claim that the one little survivin' nip plant we had, was killed by last night's frost, but truth be told, it was lookin' as bad yesterday, BEFORE the cold arrived, as it does today.  Truth is, it was a sorry excuse for a nip plant before, and is equally as sad, today.

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

I did too.

Yes, Peepers, I did.  I did tell my readers we had a killin' frost last night.

No, Peepers, I did not.  I did not tell my readers that it was the frost that killed the nip plant, for that, ol' Peepers of mine, would have been a lie, and...

What do you mean I should have helped you grow the plant?  Growin' nip is YOUR job.  Imbibing in the nip is mine.  And...

And actually, I did help.  There was that day, remember?  That day when I felt so sorry for the little tyke of a plant, I tried to give it mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.  You know, to bring it back to life.

Okay, so it might have been more like an into-my-mouth-the-nip-went kinda resuscitation, but still...

But still, I only ate two leaves.

I left the other three.

And in related news...

It has been ruled MERELY COINCIDENTAL that the squished lettuce plants that were supposedly sat upon by an incredibly handsome marmalade cat, happened to be growin' right next to the pot containing the nip plant requiring mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.  You know, the nip plant with only five - I mean, THREE - leaves.

MOUSES!