not again

Not again, I say.  I SAY, NOT AGAIN!

Oh for the love of mouses...

MOUSES!

Hey Peepers!  PEEPERS!  Saffy is at the back door, again.  I SAY, SAFFY IS AT THE BACK DOOR!

I say...

Yeah, that's what I said.  Saffy Saffron Sassifras is sittin' at the back door.  Wanted back in, I suppose.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You thinkin' that Saffy has every right to come inside.  After all, this is his house, too.

And I suppose you could be right.

The thing is, though...

The thing is...

The thing is, Saffy just went outside.

'Bout five minutes ago.

Give or take a few seconds.

MOUSES!

Did you not hear me, Peepers?  Did you hear me, ol' peep of mine?  Saffy is sittin' out there at the back door, wanted inside.

MOUSES!

Now, what you - my dear and wonderful pals - might not know is that when Saffy comes inside, he's gonna be expectin' a helpin' of treats.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', Saffy Saffron Sassifras has every right to expect a helpin' of treats.

But the thing is...

The thing is...

The thing is, Saffy had a helpin' of treats about fifteen minutes ago.

WHICH WAS THE LAST TIME HE CAME BACK INSIDE.

And fifteen minutes before that?  Yeah, he came in then, too, and had a helpin' of treats that time, as well.

And fifteen minutes before that?

Well, you get the picture, I am sure.

MOUSES!

Oh good.  Peepers has let my brother back in.

And here come, of course, the helpings of treats.

Excuse me a mo, my dear and wonderful pals, for I'm gonna make sure I get a helpin' as well.

*munch, munch, crunch, crunch*

*BURP!*

*ahhh...*

Hey Peepers!  PEEPERS!  Peepers, Saffy is now at the FRONT door, wantin' to go outside.

And in about ten minutes, he'll prolly be back at the back, wantin' back in.

For another helpin' of treats.

Like the twenty other times already, today.

MOUSES!

the graduate

Sassy Saffron Sassifras, I, Seville the Cat, hereby decree that you have graduated from uh...

Umm...

Well...

Well whatever that course was, I was teachin'.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, my dear brother, Saffy Saffron Sassifras, has FINALLY figured out the difference between a swat and a tap, and now that he has - figured out the difference, that is - he's usin' his newly found knowledge ALL OVER THE PLACE, for sure.

MOUSES!

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

Yeah, I know it's usually the peep who does all the babblin', but today it appears to be you.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, it appears that Saffy...

Huh.  Saffron, what WAS that you were babblin'...  I mean, askin', before?

Oh yeah.

Okay, so it appears that my brother Saffy Saffron Sassifras isn't too keen on my tellin' you all 'bout how he has ONLY NOW figured out when to swat and/or biff, and when it's more appropriate to tap.

Guess he thinks that's somethin' he should have learned long ago.

As do I.  But what's a scratch or two on the legs of a peep?

Or three.  Or four.   Or quite a few more.

MOUSES!

But anyway....

But anyway, like I was sayin', Saffy Saffron Sassifras now knows the difference between swats and taps.  Used to be, Peepers would walk past and he'd give her leg a right good ol' swat.  Sometimes, even a bite.  But usually just a really good swat.  But with claws out, and everythin'.  

In fact, Saffron was swattin' the peep so much, Peepers was thinking 'bout buyin' shares in peroxide and bandages and stuff.  I, on the other paw, was considerin' buyin' shares in ear plugs.

Why ear plugs, you ask?

YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LOUD A PEEP SQUEALS WHEN SWATTED WITH CLAWS?

MOUSES!

But now, thanks to yours truly, Saffron understands that when a peep is walkin' past, it's far better to gently tap her leg.  Without usin' any claws.

'Cause when a kitty does that...

Gently tap a peep leg without usin' his claws...

THERE ARE NO EARDRUM SPLITTIN' SQUEALS TO BE HEARD.

MOUSES!

Plus, peeps tend to find these taps very endearin'.  Endearin' enough to offer up treats.

AND EVERYONE KNOWS SAFFY AND I LOVE OUR TREATS.

Next course starts in September and will be about the dos and don'ts of injectin' a pawful of claws into peeps' knees.

For the purpose of haulin' oneself up into standin' positions.

MOUSES!

you snooze, you lose

You snooze, you lose, Peepers.  You snooze, you lose.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin' Peepers missed the boat and lost her spot on the family room chesterfield.  Yup, you're thinkin' she lost that spot to me.

Well, my dear pals...

That would be wrong.

MOUSES!

You see, Peepers doesn't have a spot on the family room chesterfield.  The family room chesterfield belongs to me.  Me as in me, Seville the Cat; just like everythin' else here in this house.  Therefore, Peepers doesn't actually have a spot to lose.

Basically, I allow the peeps to join me on the...  I mean, MY chesterfield.

MOUSES!

No, she didn't lose her spot to Saffron, either.

Again, I must point out the flaw in that logic on account of her not havin' a spot in the first place.

MOUSES!

But she did miss the boat, I'm afraid.  Yup, she missed the boat, train, and the ferry - not to mention any other modes of transport one might miss - even though she wasn't actually travellin' anywhere.

It's just an expression, you see.

But she did miss what she missed on account of her snoozin'.

MOUSES!

Picture it: my house - emphasis on the MY - late last week.

Peep #1, aka Peepers, walks into the kitchen and spots the box of little candy canes left over from Christmas on the kitchen counter.  It's on its side.

The box, I mean, and not the peep.

So anyway, the box is on its side with its bottom facin' outward.  Peepers thinks to herself that she might have a candy cane.  After all, in the two and a half months or so since Christmas, she has had not a one.  In fact, she doesn't even know if the box has been opened.

Peepers lifts the box of ONE HUNDRED little candy canes off the counter but oddly enough, it feels light.  Way lighter than a box of ONE HUNDRED little candy canes should feel.

Now imagine her surprise when she finds that the box has, in fact, been opened.  Not only that, but it no longer contains one hundred candy canes as it originally did.  Not ninety-nine or ninety-eight, either.  In fact, the box once containing ONE HUNDRED little candy canes now contains...

Wait for it....

TWO.

That's right, my friends.  There were TWO candy canes left in the now almost empty box.

MOUSES!

So Peep #1 says somethin' to Peep #2 and is told she should go to the store to get some more; but Peepers replies, "You can't buy candy canes in March.  They only sell them at Christmas."

Then Peep #2 says, "Oh.  Well I guess you should have had some before."

MOUSES!

Now Peep #1, bein' a peep, and a pretty stupid one at that...

NO, I'm not makin' disparagin' remarks 'bout my peep.  I'm simply statin' a fact.  'Cause if Peepers were smart she would have snatched those last two candy canes right up.

But did she?

NO.

Instead, Peepers put the box back down and left in a huff.

Now a little while later...

Maybe an hour, or two.

A little while later, Peepers returned to get one of those two candy canes to eat, but...

But...

But...

BUT THE LAST TWO CANDY CANES WERE GONE.

Can you believe it?

Of course, you can.

MOUSES!

Like I said, stupid.

Just like a peep.

Just like MY peep.

MOUSES!

And this, my friends, is why I NEVER leave my temptin' treats lyin' about.  I mean, if one of my peeps were to spot an open bag of catnip or tuna or chicken treats just lyin' there on the counter, waitin' to be eaten...

My gosh and my golly, I can't even bear the thought.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

an open bag of treats

I could have told you that would happen, Peepers.  I COULD HAVE TOLD YOU it would.

As a matter of fact...

As a matter of fact, I think I DID.

MOUSES!

So the first peep had to go out and buy more Hallowe'en candy the other day.

And do you know WHY Peepers had to go out and buy more Hallowe'en candy?  WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHY she had to go out and buy more Hallowe'en candy.  Peepers had to go out and buy more Hallowe'en candy on account of Peep #2 openin' up the first box, early, and once it had been opened up, the candy disappeared like magic.

MOUSES!

But that's what it's like at my house.  Peeps leave a box of chocolates unopened, and that box of chocolates could stay unopened like that for years.  But you open it up, and...

WHAMMO!

It's gone.

MOUSES!

Of course, this is not what happens with my cat treats.

Okay, so maybe it is, but seriously, we're talkin' about Hallowe'en candy here, and not my tempting treats.

MOUSES!

But back to that Hallowe'en candy.

Box number one is now toast.  Not literally toast, of course, but toast nonetheless.  Box number two is still somewhere 'round here.  As for box number three...  Well box number three is still at the store, on account of box number two - SO FAR - bein' unopened.  But hey, give the peeps time:  Hallowe'en's not here for a week.

MOUSES!

Now back to the topic of treats.


Treats for me.  And Rushy, too, I suppose.

BUT NOT FOR THE PEEPS!

I don't eat the peeps' Hallowe'en candy, and I expect them not to eat my treats.

It's not that I'm bein' selfish, or anythin' like that.  The peeps are veggies, you see, so my not allowing 'em to eat any of my tempting treats is actually...

Well...

Well it's actually like I'm doing 'em a favour.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of treats...

Speakin' of treats, I happen to know - FOR A FACT - that there's an open package of freeze-dried salmon sittin' up on the kitchen island right now.  Open.  Open like it's sittin' there WAITIN' to be eaten.

I also happen to know there's a wee little empty spot in my tummy, on account of my tummy tellin' me it has a wee little empty spot.  You know, because I've not eaten a thing for days and days and days and...

Okay, for hours and hours and...

Okay, I've not eaten a thing in the last forty-five minutes.

But still...

But still, the fact remains, I've got an empty spot in my tummy, and there's an open bag of treats in the kitchen.  Now, a cat puts two and two together, and a cat gets...

Five?

Nah, that's not right.

Four.


Nah, that's not right, either.

I know!  A cat puts two and two together, and a cat gets...

HEY PEEPERS!  I'm in dire need of a snack over here.  Wanna paw me over a few freeze-dried salmon treats?  Once the bag is open, Peepers, I need to eat 'em right up.  They're not gettin' any fresher, you know.

MOUSES!

a rose by any other name...

Okay, so they SAY a rose by any other name still smells as sweet, but...

But what if it's not really a rose?

WHAT if it's really a treat?

And WHAT if said treat turns out to not actually be a treat at all?

What if it is, in fact, nothin' more than some dry kibble your peep is tryin' to PASS OFF as treats, 'cause she's nothin' but a common wh...

Oh my mouses!  Gosh, I almost called the peep a...  Oohhh boy, I've really been watchin' WAY TOO MUCH late night TV.

Okay, so what if said rose is supposedly a treat, but ACTUALLY dry kibble your peep is passing off as treats, 'cause she's nothin' but a stupidy-dupity ol' cheapskate of a peep?

Huh?

What about THAT?

Would said dry kibble then smell as sweet as a rose?

Methinks...

NOT.

MOUSES!

So if any of you kitties out there have experienced the dry kibble treat switcheroo...

WHAT DID YOU DO?

'Cause seriously, inquirin' minds are needin' to know.

MOUSES!

Huh, and now that I'm thinkin' about it, just what-oh-what would Peep #1 do if I were to try to pass off...

Say...

I know!

What would she do if I were to try to pass off sauerkraut and liver on her, tellin' her it was some kinda extra special chocolate candy?

I'm thinkin' she probably wouldn't like that at all.

Or if I were to try to pass off...

Say...

I know!

What would she do if I were to try to pass off brussels spouts and sardines on her, tellin' her it was some kinda extra special, fancy schmancy pastry?

I'm thinkin' she probably wouldn't like that, either.

And what would she do if I were to try to pass off...

Wait a minute.

I like liver.

I like sardines, too.

Actually, now that I'm thinkin' about those things, I'm findin' myself somewhat hungry.  I could sure go for some liver and sardines right about now.  I could go for some liver and sardines, for sure!

I wish I could get the peep to pass off some liver and sardines on me.


But does she do that?  Offer me sardines and liver as a snack?  Does she?

OH NO...

INSTEAD, she just passes off cheap ol' dry kibble, sayin' it's treats, 'cause she's nothin' but a cheapskate of a common wh...

MOUSES!

Seriously, I have GOT to stop watchin' late night TV.

music to my ears

I'm here!  I'm here!  What have you got there, Peepers?

What do you MEAN it's not what I think?  You mean those aren't treats?

It's wrappin' paper, you say?

But...

But...

Awww...  MOUSES!

Stupid wrappin' paper sounds just like a package of treats.

                           **********

I'm here!  I'm here!  What have you got there, Peepers?

What do you MEAN it's not what I think?  You mean those aren't treats, either?

It's the plastic stuff from the inside of a box of candies, you say?

But...

But...

Awww...  MOUSES!

Stupid box of candy plastic stuff sounds just like a package of treats.

                           **********

I'm here!  I'M HERE!  What have you got there, Peepers?

What do you MEAN it's not what I think?  You mean THOSE aren't treats, EITHER?

It's an empty package of frozen veggies that you're puttin' into recycling, you say?

But...

But...

Awww...  MOUSES!

Stupid empty packaging from STUPID OL' DISGUSTIN' VEGGIES sounds just like a package of treats.

                           **********

I'm tellin' ya, it's like the peep is TRYIN' to deceive me.  She has been doin' stuff with stupid stuff ALL MORNIN' LONG.  Stuff that has sounded like the opening of packages of treats.  And it's just not right, you know?  MY EARS have been hearin' treats.  At least they thought they were hearin' treats, and they went and told my tummy and everythin', AND NOW my tummy is complainin' due to a TOTAL LACK of the treats.

MOUSES!

What?  WHAT?  What, pray tell, is that, that I hear?  That sound...  That sound that is music to my ears.

Do I risk it once more, my friends?

Hmmm...

Yes, I must.  I Must. Take. The Risk. For sure.

I'm here!  I'M HERE!  What have you got there, Peepers?

What do you MEAN it's...

Oh.

Really?

TRULY?

You're not playin' mean tricks on me again, are you Peepers?  You're not just makin' noises meant to deceive?

You mean, what I'm hearin' really is what I think it is?

Hear that, tummy?  Hear that good news?

WE'RE GETTIN' TREATS.

Mmmm....

Now THAT is music to my ears.

Not to mention my tummy, too.

MOUSES!

Oh Peepers...

Oh Pee-pers...

OH PEEEE-PERRRS....

Not answerin', huh?

Hey, PEEPERS!

Ah...  Here she comes now.

MOUSES!

So Peepers, I, Seville the Cat, was just sittin' here in the family room, thinkin' to myself how I was feelin' somewhat uh...  Peckish.  Yeah, peckish is exactly how I feel.  You think you could go get me a treat?

Well that was rude.  That ol' peep of mine just spun on her heels, and walked right out of the room.

MOUSES!

Oh, I know.  I bet she's DESPERATE to get me those treats as fast as she can.  I bet she was in such a hurry, she didn't even have time to tell me what she was doin'.  Bet she'll be right back with my treats, lickety-split.

Hmmm...  It's been like four minutes and she's not yet back with my treats.

MOUSES!

Oh Pee-pers...

OH PEEEE-PERRRS...

WHERE ARE WE ON GETTIN' THOSE TREATS?

She's not answerin' me again.  I'll wait another minute.

Okay, so I'll give her two.  Two minutes, that is.

You know, I'm startin' to think the peep isn't gettin' me my treats.

MOUSES!

Andy, you wanna go check in on the peep?  See if she's gettin' my treats ready?  See if maybe she's havin' a tough time openin' a new package or somethin' like that?

Because.  Because I'm far too weak from hunger to get up and walk those ten steps into the kitchen, myself.  That's why.  Whereas you, brother dear...  Well you could use the exercise, for sure.

MOUSES!

FINE.  But don't expect me to ask her to bring you treats, too.  You'll have to do that, yourself.

MOUSES!

Oh there you are, Peepers.  FINALLY.  I was beginnin' to think you might have gotten lost, or somethin', between here and the kitchen.  You know, 'cause it IS a whole ten steps.

MOUSES!

So uh...  So did you bring me some treats?

What?  No treats?  But...

But...

But...

BUT WHY?

What do you MEAN my treats are out in the kitchen if I want 'em?  OF COURSE I want 'em.  That's why I asked you to go get 'em in the first place!  And you expect me to get up and walk ALL THAT WAY, myself?  WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

Seriously, what do you mean?  I'm not likin' where this conversation is goin', Peepers.  I'm used to havin' you wait on me, paw and paw.  I'm NOT used to havin' to go...  FORAGE  for my treats, like some kinda animal.   Or one of those peep foragers one sees on television these days.  I'm USED to havin' you show me the respect I deserve...

Scratch that.  I seem to remember my coughin' up a hairball, this mornin', near...

Okay, so it was actually more like IN the shoe, but still...

I'm USED to havin' you show me MORE respect than I may or may not deserve, and...

What, AGAIN with the spinnin' on your heels and walkin' out of the room bit?  And while I, Seville the Cat, am talkin' to you, no less?

AND STILL, NO PAW-DELIVERED TREATS.

MOUSES!

Boy-oh-boy, what IS this world comin' to with peeps not behavin' like peeps should?  Peeps behavin' like...  Like...  Like unsophisticated, uncultured, uncouth, heathenish SWINE.

I mean, it's bad enough I'm not bein' served my meals on the good china and crystal, but now I don't even get room service?

MOUSES!

Andy, and just where to do you think YOU'RE goin', huh?

You're WHAT?  You're goin' into the kitchen to go eat MY treats?

MY TREATS?

Well, there's only one thing for it then.

OUTTA MY WAY!  I'M COMIN' THROUGH.  FOR I'M ON A MISSION TO GET ME MY TREATS.

MOUSES!

askin' for a friend

So...

So what do you think: is it possible for a cat to have too much of the nip?

I'm askin' for a friend.

So...

So any opinions 'bout this out there?

Anyone?  Anyone at all?

Again, I'm just askin' for a friend.

MOUSES!

Okay...

Okay, what do you think: is it possible for a cat to eat too many treats?

I'm askin' for a friend.

Okay...

Okay, any opinions 'bout this out there?

Anyone?  Anyone at all?

Again, I'm just askin' for a friend.

MOUSES!

Hmmm...

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

Oh.  Okay.

HMMM...

Now what do you think: is it possible for a peep to be too much into a cat's business, when said cat is discussin' stuff like treats and the nip, with his pals?

I'M NOT ASKIN' YOU, PEEPERS.  I'm askin' my friends.  Mind your own beeswax, would ya?

And speakin' of beeswax, Peepers...  You know, if you were to put some beeswax in your ears...  Well...  Well if you were to put some beeswax in your ears, you wouldn't end up intrudin' on my conversations with my friends, and...

I SAID, MIND YOUR OWN BEESWAX.

MOUSES!

Now where was I?

Oh yeah.

So...

So what do you think: is it possible for a cat to get too many scritches under the chin after dining upon a multitude of treats and imbibing in gargantuan helpings of the nip?

I'm just askin' for a friend.

No seriously, I am.  Askin' for a friend, that is.

Really!

TRULY.

Honestly to goodnessly.

So like I was askin', does anybody out there have an opinion on this?

NOT YOU, PEEPERS.  NOT YOU!  I'm not askin' for your opinion on anythin'.

And FYI, I never do, you know.  I NEVER do.  Whenever I'm askin' for an opinion, said opinion for which I am askin', is never bein' asked of or from you.

I think.

Hmmm...

Let me go over that last sentence again, just to make sure it makes sense.

Why?  Why what.  I'm busy, Peepers.  I'm busy makin' sense of that last sentence and stuff, and...

Why is it that I'm not interested in YOUR opinion, you ask?

'CAUSE YOUR OPINIONS 'BOUT STUFF ARE ALMOST ALWAYS OPPOSITE OF MINE, THAT'S WHY.  When I ask for opinions, I'm askin' for opinions that agree with my own.  Satisfied?

MOUSES!

And in totally unrelated news...

In TOTALLY UNRELATED news, reports are comin' in of one nip plant havin' been apparently mowed down into oblivion, with the perpetrator havin' left no trace of evidence save for a few feline fang marks.  Also, an extra-large bag of temptin' treats has mysteriously gone missin'.

*BURP*
 
Excuse me.

MOUSES!
 

tummycentric

Anderson narrowed his eyes and scowled.

"What's up?" I asked.  "How come you're scowlin' there, Andy?  I have to ask, you see, on account of it usually bein' me who does the scowlin' in this here house.  MOUSES!"

"What's up with you?" my brother replied.

"With me?" I said, innocently.  "Nothin' is up with me except, OF COURSE, for my wonderin' how come you're scowlin'.  And not only are you scowlin', but you're scowlin' at ME.  MOUSES!."

"I'm scowling because you're staring, Seville.  You're staring right at me.  You've been staring at me for the last half hour."

"I HAVE NOT," I stated with indignation.  "Okay, so maybe I have," I reconsidered.  "But it's not without reason.  MOUSES!"

Andy looked confused.

Of course.

But no more so than usual.

MOUSES!

"Um..." Andy paused.  "UM..." he repeated.  "What reason is that?" he wondered aloud.  Then he started countin' on his paws, all the possible reasons.  MOUSES!

"I've been watching you, Brother Dear, and I've been noticin' just how tummycentric you are," I told him.

"Tummycentric?  That's not even a word," Andy said, stompin' a paw.

"Is too.  At least it is now.  MOUSES!"

"You can't make up words on a whim," Andy muttered.

"Can too.  MOUSES!"

"So uh...  What does it mean?" my brother asked.

"What does WHAT mean?  Tummycentric?  What does tummycentric mean, you ask?"

Andy nodded.

"Are you SURE?   'Cause seriously, Andy, a moment ago, you were sayin' the word tummycentric didn't even exist."

Andy thought 'bout that for a minute.  He did.  HONESTLY.  I saw the smoke comin' out of his ears and everythin'.  MOUSES!

"Fine, I'll tell you," I said.  "It means that you're always thinkin' about that tummy of yours.  MOUSES!"

Andy looked down at his stomach.

"See?  There you go again.  Tummy this, and tummy that, and tummy..."

"But I have a nice tummy," Andy explained.  "It's the nicest tummy I have."

I furrowed my brow.  "That doesn't even make sense, Andy.  That tummy is the ONLY tummy you have."

"Maybe...  But it's still the nicest."

I shook my head in dismay.  Only my brother, Anderson, could make sense of somethin' utterly and completely senseless.  MOUSES!

"And I don't think about it ALL the time," Andy continued.

"Oh yes you do," I said.  "Okay, so maybe not in the middle of the night when you're sound asleep, but...  Hmmm..."  I gnawed on a claw.  "On the other paw, I don't know what you dream about while sleepin', Andy.  Maybe you spend all night DREAMIN' about your tummy, too."

Andy looked dumbfounded.

Of course.

But no more so than usual.

MOUSES!

"So anyway..." I began.  "The thing is, you're extremely tummycentric, Andy.  If you're not askin' the peeps to rub that tummy of yours, you're askin' them to give you somethin' to put inside it.  MOUSES!"

Andy thought about that for a moment.

Then for a moment longer.

Twenty. Minutes. Later...

Twenty minutes later, he was still thinkin'.  FINALLY, Anderson spoke.  "But I like it when Peep #1 rubs my tummy.  I like it a lot."

"I know."

"You do?  How do you know that I like having my tummy rubbed?" my brother asked.

"Because you've asked the peep to rub it like ten times already this mornin'.  You've been lyin' there on the chesterfield, exposin' your tummy to the world, practically BEGGIN' the peep to rub it.  She touches that tummy of yours, and the next thing you do is spread your legs out in four opposite directions, so that she can rub its ENTIRE EXPANSE.  MOUSES!"

"But..."

"I haven't finished there yet, Bro.  I'm still explainin'."

"But I have a very big tummy!" Andy cut in.  "And big tummies need lots and LOTS of rubbing."

"OF COURSE IT'S A BIG TUMMY!" I cried.  "THAT'S 'CAUSE YOU KEEP PUTTIN' THINGS IN IT!  When that tummy of yours is not bein' rubbed, it's bein' fed, for sure.  MOUSES!"

Andy looked perplexed.

Of course.

But no more so than usual.

MOUSES!

Gettin' to his feet, Andy looked squarely at me.  "Well my tummy is telling me it needs feeding.  Now.  Right now, my tummy says.  And I believe in always listening to my tummy, so that's me off in search of snacks.  Coming?"

"Snacks, huh?" I murmured.  "Hmmm...  Actually, Anderson, maybe bein' tummycentric isn't such a bag thing after all."

And together, we both marched into the kitchen in search of some snacks.

MOUSES!

gimme, gimme, gimme

Gimme, gimme, gimme.

Gimme some treats, man.

I mean, Peepers.

I mean...

Please?

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

Earlier that evenin'...

Gimme, gimme, gimme.

GIMME, GIMME, GIMME.

GIMME, GIMME, GIMME.

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

That's a tad?

Hmmm...

Just a wee bit MORE than a tad, then.

Please.

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

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


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

PEEPERS, DON'T BE STINGY WITH THE NIP.

MOUSES!

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

I, of course, ate mine with delight.

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

And then I needed more.

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

Silly girl, all she did was sniff hers.

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

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

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

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

MOUSES!

But anyway...

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

Well...

WELL A KITTY GETS THE MUNCHIES, for sure.

MOUSES!

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

GIMME, GIMME, GIMME.

PEEPERS, GIMME SOME TREATS.

Please.

MOUSES!

can you hear me now?

For mousin' out loud.

I know she can hear me.  I KNOW it.

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?

Who would ever have thought that I, Seville the Cat, would end up with a peep who is hard of hearin'.

Although in all honesty, she's more likely to have selective hearin', for sure.  MOUSES!

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?

Hey Peepers, thought you'd like to know, I pooped on the wrong side of the litter box.

Oh sure, now THAT she can hear.

MOUSES!

It's annoyin' as all get out when Peep #1 pretends to not hear me.  And I KNOW she can, really.  Hear me, I mean.  I know she can hear me 'cause when I'm tryin' to be extra quiet on account of my gettin' into mischief and stuff, she ALWAYS hears me doin' that, for sure.

Like I said earlier, MOUSES!

And peeps claim we cats have selective hearin'.

Okay, so maybe now and then we do.

But two wrongs do not a right, make.

MOUSES!

And so what if I've already had three helpings of treats today.  So what if she heard me the first three times I asked.  Right now, at this very moment, I'm lookin' for helpin' number four.

Plus, they were very small treats.  I barely even tasted 'em goin' down.

But the peep, apparently, is no longer hearing my pleas.  No longer hearin' my cries.  No longer hearin' my polite requests for treats.

CLEARLY, my requests have been too polite for her to hear.

HEY PEEPERS!  GET ME A TREAT AND GET IT RIGHT NOW.  MOUSES!

Oh sure, now THAT she hears.

Peepsqueak, if you had answered me the first time I asked, I wouldn't have had to resort to makin' loud and rude demands.  You know Peepers, you pretty much brought this upon yourself.  Not MY fault you weren't hearin' me when I was askin' nicely.  Not MY fault you weren't respondin' to my cries.  Not MY fault you weren't...

Okay, okay...

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, WHERE ARE MY TREATS.

I want treats.  I want treats.  I WANT TREATS.  I WANT...

OKAY, OKAY...

MOUSES!

You know Peepers, you keep this up, and what you'll be hearin' will be my droppin' to the floor, rollin' around, dying of hunger, and...

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

You say you already gave me treats?

I know that.  But that was at least ten minutes ago, and I already ate 'em right up.  Plus, there were only three.  I need a fourth treat, and I need it right now.

What?  What?  What's that?  What's that you're babblin' on about NOW?

What do you MEAN you already gave me a fourth treat?  Peepsqueak, had you given me a fourth treat, I wouldn't be needin' to resortin' to beggin' and pleadin' and prancin' around the kitchen floor.  Had you given me a fourth treat, I wouldn't be lookin' for treats right now.  Had you given me a fourth treat, I wouldn't be...

What?  WHAT?

Oh.

That.

Hmmm...

Well...

Well CLEARLY, that wasn't the kinda treat for which I was askin'.

Or somethin' like that.

I'll tell you what, Peepers.  I'll just scarf down this teeny, tiny, minuscule fourth treat, right now.  You know, just to keep YOU happy and stuff.

*GULP*

And now that that's gone, I'll start beggin' for more.  For a fifth treat, I mean.  And make it a good kind, this time.

Hey Peepers!  CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?

we need to talk

Hey Peepers!  Ya have a minute?

We need to talk.

No, you come in here.  You come in here, into the family room.

"EWWW...."

YES!  Score one for the cats.

MOUSES!

Hey Andy!  That was a great spot you picked for throwin' up.  Peep #1 never saw it comin'.

MOUSES!

But seriously Peepers, we do need to talk.  Come on over here and sit down next to me.  Right here.  Right next to me on this chair, and...

NO...  No I did not toss my cookies on the chair.  I'm not settin' you up for another throw-up incident.

'Least not this time.

MOUSES!

But SERIOUSLY Peepers, we NEED to talk.  And actually, it is about Andy and his throwin' up.

I know, I know...  He doesn't do it all that often these days.  But when he does...

When he does, it's 'cause he scarfed down all the treats without chewin'.  I mean, have you SEEN him go at those treats?  He's like a feline Hoover!

No, not the President.  The vacuum!

I'm tellin' ya, peeps and their weird ideas.  You'd think she had been into the nip or somethin'.  MOUSES!

The thing is, Peepers, he's eatin' all the good ones.  Andy, I mean.  Andy is eatin' all the good treats.  And the other day, he started in on my freeze-dried salmon treats.  You know the ones.  The ones you keep just for me.

Yeah, yeah...  And for Mason, too.


BUT FOR NOBODY ELSE.

And ESPECIALLY not for that long-haired marmie feline vacuum freak.

Anyway, like I was sayin', the other day, Andy tore right into the package of freeze-dried salmon treats like his teeth were a pair of scissors or somethin'.  And after his recent dental, he doesn't even have all that many teeth!  I have no idea how he got into that package, at all.

And what a waste of good treats.  I'm tellin' you, Peepers, I don't think he can even taste them, he eats them so fast.  One second they're there on the floor or the table, and the next?  The next second they're all gone.  Straight from the lips to the hips, never touchin' anythin' in between.

And speakin' of hips, have you SEEN the size of Andy's hips lately?

Yeah, well that's on account of his eatin' everyone's treats.

MOUSES!

So anyway, I was thinkin'....

'Nough of that, Peepers.  'Nough of the OH-SO-YOU'RE-FINALLY-THINKIN' jokes.  There's no need to be rude.

So anyway, I WAS THINKIN', you should just start givin' Andy regular ol' dry kibble, and tell him that those bits of regular ol' kibble are treats, thereby savin' the REAL treats for me.

Yeah, yeah...  And for Mason, too.

He'll never know the difference, Peepers.  Honestly, he won't.  He'll just scarf 'em down, thinkin' they're treats.  Trust me on this one, Peepers, I'm right about this.  TRUST ME.

Have you ever known me to tell a lie, Peepers?  Have you?

DON'T ANSWER THAT.

MOUSES!

the naming of cats

Once, way back when, there was a poem or somethin' written 'bout the naming of cats.

Well that was then.  This is now.

MOUSES!

Once, way back when, sometime last week, I think, there was a somethin' or other written 'bout the training of cats.

Yeah.  Right.  Like anyone could do that.

MOUSES!

Well actually...

Actually, it's not like cats can't be trained. It's more like most cats don't wanna be. Don't wanna be trained, that is.

MOUSES!

Once, way back when, sometime this mornin', I do believe, there was a little blog post written 'bout the training of peeps.

Now THAT'S more like it, for sure.

MOUSES!

In fact, that's just the kinda thing a cat like me would write.

And actually...

Actually, I did!  That's exactly what I was writin' this mornin'.

MOUSES!

The thing is, just like cats, most peeps don't wanna be trained, either.  But the bigger thing is, what peeps don't know, they can't complain about, and they most certainly can't resist.  So the trick is, when you wanna train a peep, just don't tell 'em what you're doin'.

MOUSES!

Fact is, peeps get trained every day.  They just don't know we cats are training 'em.

You know, I've noticed lately how my brother, Anderson, has been trainin' the peeps.

More specifically, I've noticed how he has been trainin' Peep #1.  So far, he has failed to train the second peep, and as for stranger peeps, he hasn't trained any of 'em at all.  But nevertheless, he has that first peep of mine wrapped around his little claw, for sure.  MOUSES!

Let me tell you what happened the other day.

The other day, I was sittin' up on the stool in the kitchen, havin' recently polished off some freeze-dried salmon treats fed to me on the kitchen counter, no less, and debatin' whether or not I had room in my tummy for some more, when in walked my brother, Anderson.  Now normally, that would be my cue to leave, on account of Andy kinda gettin' on my nerves as of late, but instead, this time, I decided to watch him interact with the peep.

Well up to the peep Andy marched, meowin' like there was no tomorrow, and beggin' for treats.  He was beggin' like he was starvin' or somethin', which believe-you-me, he most certainly wasn't.

Anyway...

So anyway, up to the peep he marched, beggin' for somethin' to eat.

Oh yeah, I already mentioned that.

Okay, where was I?  Oh yeah.

I uh...  I noticed that even though both peeps were in the kitchen at the time, the second peep, Andy totally ignored.  He was only askin' for treats from the first.

Now I should add, for the record, that it's not like Peep #2 never feeds Andy.  Peep #2 feeds him as much as the first peep does, but when it comes to treats, the first peep is the bigger sucker, for sure.

Need I remind you I had just polished off freeze-dried salmon treats served to me on the kitchen counter?

Of course, eatin' off the bare counter isn't as good as eatin' off crystal and china, but it's a darn sight better than makin' me eat treats off the floor, which in the absence of crystal and china servin' dishes, can sometimes happen.

And speakin' of there bein' an absence of crystal and china servin' dishes for us cats...

WELL IT JUST ISN'T RIGHT.  It isn't right at all!  But so far, my complaints regarding the lack of crystal and china servin' dishes for us cats, have fallen upon deaf ears.  But I digress.  MOUSES!

Back to Andy and those treats.

There was Andy, makin' it look like he hadn't eaten in days, rubbin' up against Peep #1's legs, and beggin' like a dog or somethin', when finally, the first peep gave in, and tossed a few treats onto the floor, in his direction.

And when I say tossed, I do mean tossed.  That's how Andy gets his treats, you see, as Peep #1 makes him work for 'em as much as possible, on account of Andy lookin' liked he has never, ever, in his whole, entire life, ever missed a meal.

Or even a treat.

MOUSES!

So across the kitchen floor went the treats, and Andy gobbled 'em up like he was in a treat-eatin' competition or somethin'.

But the thing is, the point I am tryin' to make, once again, Andy managed to get his treats.

Now thinkin' about what I had just witnessed made me realize that Andy is not nearly as dumb as I...

What's that, Peepers?  I shouldn't call my brother dumb?  FINE.  Whatever you say, Peepers.  I shall endeavour to change my wordin'.

So anyway, thinkin' about what I had just witnessed made me realize that Andy was smarter than I once thought, for Andy had clearly trained the peep, and the peep, bein' a peep, was totally unaware of her havin' been trained.

What's that, Peepers?  Of what were you unaware?

Uhhh...

Nothin'.  Nothin' at all.  I was talkin' about a totally different peep.

But back to Andy and those treats.  Clearly, Andy HAD managed to train the peep.  He meowed and treats appeared, and believe-you-me, the appearance of treats is exactly what that brother of mine had been wantin'.  What's more, he even knew which of the two peeps was easier to train.

I really have to paw it to him.  Trainin' a peep is no easy matter, and yet, Anderson had managed to do exactly that.

MOUSES!

Now, if he could just manage to train her to break out the good crystal and china when feedin' us those treats, but alas, when it comes to usin' the good dishes for treats, even the first peep appears to be untrainable.

So far.

MOUSES!

gone fishin'

*Thwack!  Thwack! THWACK!*

"Done."  Seville sat back on his haunches to admire his handiwork. "And it looks pretty darned good, too, if I do say so myself.  In fact, it looks PURRfect, for sure," he chuckled.

"You spelt fishing wrong," a voice behind him said.

"Did not!" and Seville swung around to find his sister, Tess, leaning up against a wall.  "F. I. S. H. I. N.  Fishin'.  What's wrong with that?"

"Suit yourself," Tess shrugged, "but I think there's supposed to be a letter 'g' somewhere in there."

Seville scowled at his sister.  "That's 'cause you're not sayin' it right.  MOUSES!"

Tess skulked off down the hallway, growling and flicking her tail, this way and that, as she went. Moments later, one of Seville's other sisters, Mason, appeared.

"You're going fishing?" Mason asked.  "May I come?  I've always wanted to go fishing but no one has ever invited me.  I don't suppose you'd like to?  To invite me on your fishing trip, I mean."

"Sorry sis but there's only room for the three of us in the teleportation device, what with the fishing gear and stuff.  Plus, I need to save some room for Nellie, in case she feels like fishing, too."

"The three of you?  And Nellie?  You're taking half the feline household fishing and possibly a guest and you're leaving ME behind?  You have a lot of nerve there, Seville.  Who are you taking? Rushton and Anderson?"

"Are you kidding me?"  Seville rolled his eyes back so far into his head he thought they might never come back out again.  "Can you really see Andy fishing?  You're supposed to be quiet when you go fishing, so that you don't scare off all the fish.  Andy has never been quiet in his life!  I don't think he even knows how.  MOUSES!"

"Then who are you taking?" and Mason gave him a look that could topple a brick building, while impatiently tapping a back paw on the floor.

"The stuffies," answered Seville.  "Well...  the one regular stuffy and the other one is a pin stuffy but they're both stuffies, really.  You know the stuffies.  You saw 'em when they arrived.  Those two adorable little stuffies that are oh-so-cute and very, very handsome.  They look just like me.  The stuffies Nellie's mum made.  You know Nellie.  Nellie from the wonderful and always oh-so-interestin' and always entertainin' and really, really fun blog, Living on the Edge.  Sevilles number two and three."

"You went number two, Seville?" Anderson asked as he passed the other two cats in the hallway. "Hope you did it in the litter box!  Haha... Haha... HAHA..." he guffawed before stopping in his tracks.

"Uh, I know what number one and number two are but what's number three? Never mind.  I don't think I want to know.  I think number three might be like that time when I got into the cream and my lactose intolerance got the best of me and..."  Without finishing his sentence, Andy darted down the hallway, disappearing into the bathroom and the nearest box.

"Anyway..." Seville continued.  "Like I was saying, I'm taking Seville number two and Seville number three fishing, out on the west coast. Gonna catch us some wild pacific salmon like those freeze-dried Wild Pacific Salmon treats Nellie sent me, along with the two stuffies her mum made. Gosh those treats were yummy.  Scrumshidumshilicious, in fact.  Sometimes, at night, I close my eyes and dream of those delicious Wild Pacific Salmon treats.  Mmmm...."

Now it was Mason's turn to roll her eyes.  "You and your snacks.  Boys!"  And with that, she was off down the hallway, making sure to hold her breath as she passed the bathroom where Anderson was busily covering up something unmentionable, in the litter box.

"Now, time to pack up the teleportation device," Seville declared.

"Fishing gear...   Hmmm...  I wonder what kind of bait I need to catch salmon treats.  And can I fish for the packages of treats themselves, or should I be catching live salmon?  And if I catch live salmon, should I bring along somethin' to freeze dry 'em right there, on the spot?   All very good questions, for sure.  I bet Nellie will know the answers.  After all, she knew 'bout those delicious treats in the first place.  I'll take a fishin' rod and ask Nellie 'bout bait when I get there.  And I think the peep has a dehydrator or somethin', somewhere around here.  Bet it's in the basement. MOUSES!"

After packing up the teleportation device, Seville went off in search of Seville numbers two and three, who had disappeared under the chesterfield, after being offended by Anderson's bathroom comments.

"Don't worry 'bout what Andy said," Seville comforted the two stuffies.  "Andy doesn't have a clue what he's talkin' about...  AS USUAL.  MOUSES!"

Finally, with the teleportation device fully loaded, and all three Sevilles ready for their long trip out to the west coast, Seville set the coordinates for Nellie's house.  He then fired up the eggbeaters that would power his flying frying pan using eggbeater teleportation technology.

"Hang on tight!" Seville instructed the two stuffies.  "We'll be at Nellie's in about two shakes of a whisker. Maybe three, with this headwind we've encountered.  'Bout five minutes, I suspect.  Good thing I brought along some snacks," and he dug into the bag with the fishing gear, looking for the snacks he had packed. "When teleportin', always be prepared with snacks," he told the two stuffies, knowingly, as the three soared across Lake Ontario.  "Never leave home without your snacks.  Never.  Not ever. MOUSES!"

BREAKING NEWS...

BREAKING NEWS...  Complaints have been POURING in about Peep #1.  That's right, the complaints are about PEEP #1, sidekick to Seville the Cat, from the award-winning blog, Nerissa's Life. Complaints started...

Wait a minute.  This is news?  This is breaking news?  HARDLY.  This is old news, for sure, and quite frankly, old news isn't newsworthy at all.  I mean, old can't be the new new, right?  MOUSES!

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

Well I might as well tell you now.  I'm thinkin' about trading in the ol' peep.  Yup, I'm thinkin' about trading her in, for sure. Gettin' a newer model.  I'm pretty sure the 2017s will be coming out soon and...

Yeah I know.  The peep isn't a car.  Can't trade her in like one might trade in a car. MOUSES!

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

So you're probably wonderin' what has got my fur all ruffled, not to mention getting Rushton's pantaloons in a twisted mess of a dither.  Well wonder no more 'cause I'm spillin' the beans, right here and right now.

No, Anderson - AKA Sir Fartsalot - did not get into any beans.  Besides, it's not beans that gives Andy his...  you know...  issues.  It's the lactose that does that, for sure.  MOUSES!

Anyway, I was diggin' through the complaint box...

Yeah we have one of those now.  Peep #1 installed it.  Said she was hearing too many complaints, so from now on, if one of us cats has a complaint, we should write it down and pop it into the new box with the word 'COMPLAINTS' written across its front.

Well when I first heard 'bout that there complaint box I cried, "What a waste of a good box. MOUSES!"

But even I have to admit, once I started using it - A LOT - I changed my tune.  That there complaint box was the best thing since tinned tuna, for sure.  MOUSES!

But then the other day I realized somethin'.  I realized....

THE PEEP WASN'T READIN' ANY OF OUR COMPLAINTS!

It's true.  They were just piling up in that box.  Just sitting there, never being read.  And I know this to be a fact on account of when I went to add another complaint, I couldn't, 'cause the complaint box was stuffed full.  Yup, stuffed chock-full of complaints!  Not a single one had ever been read. I'm thinkin', she thought we'd be placated with the illusion that our complaints were being addressed.  Typical.  Typical peep thinking, for sure.  MOUSES!

So I decided to take matters into my own paws and read those complaints, myself.  Of course, a lot of 'em had been written by me so I tucked all those under Peep #1's pillow to give her a little late-night reading and got on with going through the rest.

One of Anderson's complaints was quite distressing.  Apparently, the peep has started...

Oh my mouses, it's almost too horrid to relate.

Apparently, the peep has started scattering Andy's treats all over the kitchen floor.  MOUSES!

It's true.  You heard it here first, folks.  Peep #1 has been requiring Anderson to forage for his treats. MOUSES!

Now I should probably tell you that Andy does like his treats.  Yup, he has a real treat tooth, for sure.  No peep can step into the kitchen without Anderson bein' right there, beggin' for treats.

And when I say beggin', I mean BEGGIN'.  He goes on and on and on...

...and on and on and on...

...and on and...

Well you get the picture, I am sure.  The peeps always give in eventually.  They have to.  When it comes to the treats, Andy is what one calls, relentless.  MOUSES!

But now, Peep #1 takes a few treats and scatters them all over the kitchen floor.  Anderson can't vacuum...

Yeah you heard that right.  My brother Anderson is a feline vacuum, for sure.  MOUSES!

Anyway, by spreading the treats all around the kitchen, Andy can't vacuum 'em up, all in one fell swoop.  He's forced to wander about, foraging for his food.  Well for his treats.  But foraging for treats and foraging for food is really kind of the same thing when you're a kitty who is desperate for a treat.  MOUSES!

Now this is quite disconcerting for me as I feel no cat should ever be forced to forage for anything at all.  MOUSES!

And speaking of foraging, let me tell you 'bout a complaint from my sister Tess.

You all know 'bout Peep #1's lack of nip-growing skills, right?  Well you'll be very surprised to hear that some of the nip seeds the peep planted this past spring, did not die.  Now I say some but in truth, A VERY SMALL PERCENTAGE would likely be more accurate.  Anyway, there were a few seeds that sprouted that Peep #1 didn't kill...  YET.  MOUSES!

Now although numbering only a few, I had high hopes for those seedlings.  I mean, if she could manage to not kill even two, it would DOUBLE our nip harvest...

Yeah that's right.  TWO would double the nip harvest.  We had three plants, from last year, growing in that there cage.  Now there are two.  MOUSES!

But back to the seedlings.  Those little baby plants, the peep started, this past spring.  Well all was going well for a while but then the other day...

Let's just say, my sister Tess was caught foraging for food.  Well nip, to be exact.  MOUSES!

Yup, Peep #1 found Tess yankin' on the baby nip plants and chewing 'em up, one by one.  MOUSES!

Now you're probably wondering why Tess wrote a complaint up about the peep leaving nip plants out where she could find 'em.  Well she didn't.  That's not what Tess' complaint was about at all.  Tess' complaint was about the fact that Peep #1 stopped her from foraging those nip plants before she had managed to forage ALL her way through.

Of course, now that I know 'bout this transgression, I must now write up a complaint 'bout Peep #1 leaving those nip plants out where Tess could find 'em in the first place.

Hmmm...  As it appears that complaints put in the complaint box are being ignored by the peep and read only by me, I think I'd best skip the box and tuck this complaint under the peep's pillow along with all those other complaints I wrote.  Yeah, I think I had best do that, for sure.  MOUSES!