birds of a feather

Birds of a feather...

THEY BE FLOCKIN' TOGETHER.

MOUSES!

And when you think about it, they're not unlike those two freaky long-haired marmie brothers of mine.  You know the ones: Rushton and Andy.

Yeah, those two are always hangin' out together.  If you see one, the other is never far behind.

Behind?  What am I sayin'?  More likely, they'll be side by side.  Side by side, schemin' and plottin' and conspirin' together.  Probably against me.  Those two are in cahoots, you see.

MOUSES!

Of course, their constant hangin' out together does have its advantages.

Firstly, if I know where one is, I almost always know where the other is, too.  It's actually easier to avoid long-haired freaky brothers when there's only the one GROUPING, so to speak, to avoid.

And secondly, if I feel the desire to smacky-paw one, I can smacky-paw the other at the very same time.  Often with the very same smacky-paw, too!  Kinda like killin' two birds with one stone.

Not that I, Seville the Cat, would ever kill a bird with a stone!  Personally, I don't kill birdies, period.  Killin' birdies does not bode well for the local channels of Bird TV.

And speakin' of birds...

Those birdies be flockin' TOGETHER, for sure.

Now I don't know what kinda birds they are, but there must be at least a MILLION of 'em.

Okay, so maybe not a million.  Probably more like a couple hundred thousand.

Okay, so maybe not a couple hundred thousand.  Maybe more like 'bout ten thousand.

Okay, so maybe not ten thousand.  Now that I think about it...   Well...  Well it's probably more like fifty or so.  Yeah, that sounds about right.

But it's the BIGGEST flock of fifty birdies, for sure.  Biggest fifty bird sized flock, EVER.  It's HUGE!  It's...

Okay, so it's like a few dozen birds.

MOUSES!

But you should see 'em, my friends.  They've been performin' on the local Bird TV network for the last couple weeks.

Peep #1 puts out some bird food and the next thing you know, they're there, perchin' on all the trees, waitin' for the peep to go away so that they can come down and eat.  It's really quite the sight to see.

They're not too talkative, though.  More interested in eatin', I do believe.

And speakin' of eatin'...

A kitty should NEVER confuse Bird TV with a TV dinner.  They are NOT the same thing, at all.

MOUSES!

Not that I, Seville the Cat, would ever confuse the two.  Like I said earlier, I'm not into the killin' of birdies.

Not even mocking birds.

MOUSES!

Hmmm...  But if we're talking 'bout turkeys...

But that doesn't count, for the turkey I eat comes out of a tin, and tinned turkey is decidedly different, somehow.

I'm not even sure it's a bird.  It sure doesn't look like one.

MOUSES!

Plus, tinned turkey is my favourite, and there's no way, no how, I'm gonna stop eatin' my favourite din-dins.  I CERTAINLY couldn't stop cold turkey and that is for sure.

MOUSES!

But seriously, I do believe, it is safe to say that those birdies flocking to my yard are safe and sound from me.

But from those two freaky long-haired brothers of mine...

Okay, so they don't kill birds, either.  'Cause you know, it's kinda hard for a turkey-sized cat to catch a lithe little birdie.  By the time they caught up with one, they'd be all outta breath!

MOUSES!

Well...  Perhaps I'm exaggeratin' a bit.  I must admit, my freaky brothers are actually very agile for their size.  They're pretty quick, too.  They're both Olympic champions when it comes to sprinting for treats.

MOUSES!

Nah, even if we could, we cats would never kill any of the Bird TV cast.  Not even for ratings!  We cats are civilised creatures.  We don't live in some kinda disreputable weird and surreal, reality television world.

Besides, although we like our food fresh, those birdies are just a little TOO fresh, if you know what I mean.

And speakin' of fresh...

Oh my mouses, you shoulda heard the lip that Blue Jay gave the peep when she slept in the other mornin' and was late with his food.

MOUSES!

Happy Thanksgiving!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYBODY!

That's right, here in Canada, this is Thanksgiving weekend. Thanksgiving Day is actually tomorrow, I do believe.  At least that's what the calendar says. Wait a minute.  Let me check on that.  Be right back.

Okay, I'm back.  Yup, that's what it says.  The calendar says that tomorrow is Thanksgiving Monday but only here in Canada.  Nothing marked for today although I know a lot of Canadian cats and peeps are having the big special dinner this evening.  Lots of peeps will be travelling tomorrow, I suppose.  Maybe that's why they do the dinner on Sunday.

When I was checking the calender, I noticed that tomorrow is also Columbus Day in the United States.  Actually, I already knew that.  Bet most cats do.  Bet most peeps do, too.

But did you all know that tomorrow is also Health and Sports Day in Japan?  I never knew that before but it says so right there on my calender so it must be true.

I would imagine that on a day called Health and Sports Day, cats and peeps should be active. Celebrate being active, in fact.  Lots of peeps here in Canada will go out walking or hiking tomorrow, I suppose .  If you have good weather and the day off, why not?  That's healthy.  It's kind of sporty, too.

I think I'll encourage my peeps to have a fun-filled afternoon of wand toys and nip mice with me. Maybe toss a ball around.  I always enjoy watching the peeps go fetch the knitted ball they throw to me.  You know, after I totally ignore it.  Ah yes, good times, for sure.

Oohhh..  and then there are the turkeys.  I've been hearing an awful lot about turkeys leading up to Thanksgiving weekend and from what I've been hearing, some of those turkeys are pretty darned big.  Cooking turkey dinner could be a sport in of itself, don't you think?  Kind of like lifting weights for cooks.  MOUSES!

For all I know, eating turkey dinner might be a sport for some, too.  MOUSES!

At my house, the turkey all comes in tins and they're never all that heavy.  Well...  individual tins aren't very heavy but I suppose that if Peep #1 were to go around lifting whole cases of those tins, it could be considered a sporting event of some sort.  I'll have to check the facts on that and see if it's something we could get into the Olympics.  If so, I bet Peep #1 could win, for sure.  We give her lots of practice, you see.

Of course we cats would continue to provide practice opportunities, for the peep, by eating the turkey in those tins which would require her to go back to the store to get more.  More tins.  More athletic training, for sure.  MOUSES!

Anyone know if the Olympic gold medals are made of real gold?  I'm wondering because if we cats were to help the peep out by eating the tinned turkey so that she could win a medal for lifting the tins of turkey and giblets, we cats would be entitled to some of that gold, would we not?  And we could use the gold from that medal to buy us a real turkey dinner.

In case you were wondering about these tins of turkey and whatnot, let me explain.  My peeps are vegetarians.  'Nough said.  MOUSES!

That's enough about turkeys.  Now let's talk pumpkin pie.

Peep #1 made pumpkin pie yesterday.  Oddly enough, the pumpkin for the pumpkin pie came in a tin, too.  Just like our turkey.  You think it might be turkey?  MOUSES!

Nope, Ol' Peepers here says it's not.  She says it's one hundred percent pumpkin.  At least that's what it says on the tin.

Ever wonder why the tins of pumpkin say they contain one hundred percent pumpkin?  Ever wonder that?  I mean, what else would they contain? Squash?

This just in...  BREAKING NEWS...   Apparently, some tins of pumpkin do contain squash.  MOUSES!

But back to that pumpkin pie.  You know, the one the peep made, yesterday.  It's in the fridge right now but I'm thinking, it's going to be coming out later today and when it does, I'll be waiting.

To tell you the truth, I'm not overly interested in the pie itself.  I know a lot of cats enjoy a little pumpkin now and then but really, I'm not one of those cats.  And although I personally witnessed Peep #1 adding whipping cream - which I love - to that pie, I also personally witnessed her adding a whole bunch of spices like cloves and nutmeg and cinnamon.  And it gets worse.  She also added... wait for it...  orange.  ORANGE.  Could you believe it?  MOUSES!

For your information, Peepers, we cats do not like oranges.  Don't like anything citrus at all. MOUSES!

Long story short, the peep completely ruined the pie but...

But I'm betting she'll be whipping up some additional whipping cream to go on top of that pie and when she does, I'm gonna be there like cheese on a nip pizza.  I'm gonna snag some of that cream, for sure.

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking, we marmalade cats were cut off from the cream when Anderson was knighted Sir Fartsalot.  Lactose intolerance, you see.

Well you'd be right about that but I'm right about something, too.  What I'm right about is that what the peep doesn't know, won't hurt her.  If the peep doesn't see me getting the cream, she'll never be any the wiser.

Of course, this does not apply to Anderson.  Andy can't have any cream.  Peep might not see him lapping up the cream but sooner or later, she'll smell him, for sure.  We don't call him Sir Fartsalot for nothing, you see.  MOUSES!

What the peep doesn't know, won't hurt her...  Remember this, kitties.  Remember it well. Comes in handy when a fur-sib brings a dead mouse or something into the house and deposits it on a bed. As long as you get that corpse out of the house before your peeps see it, you'll be okay. Comes in handy when you bring in a dead mouse or something, too.  MOUSES!

Not that I've ever done any such thing.  Never done anything like that at all.  Why... Uh...  I... Ummm...  Never mind.  MOUSES!

But turkeys and pumpkins and tins of pumpkin-impersonating-squash aside, THIS IS THANKSGIVING WEEKEND, a time for being thankful, for sure.  So count up your blessings and recognise that those blessings are all things for which we should be thankful.

Let's see..

I'm thankful for the fact that even though I won't be having a real turkey dinner on account of my peeps' vegginess, I will be having the kind of turkey that comes in tins along with their giblets, whatever those are.  I'm kind of thankful I don't actually know what giblets are, too.  And I'm thankful that even though Peep #1 totally ruined the pumpkin pie by adding those icky spices and orange to it, there will still be some uncontaminated whipped cream for me to snag when she's not looking.

I'm also thankful for having a warm place to sleep at night where I'm safe and I'm loved.  And I'm thankful that my fur-sibs are basically pretty good fur-sibs to have.  And I'm thankful that even though nosy-neighbour-cat has been hanging around my house a lot as of late, he does have his own home and family and I'm thinking he'll be spending Thanksgiving with them.

I'm thankful for this wonderful planet we all share, called Earth.  Thankful for clean air and clean water and lots of pretty scenery.  For soft breezes to feel on my nose and for the rustle of leaves I can hear under my paws.  And talking about leaves,  they're beginning to colour up nicely and I'm ever-so-thankful that I get to enjoy them at this time of year.

But most of all, I'm thankful for my peeps.  They're pretty good peeps, I should think.  Oh sure, they could be better.  There's always room for improvement, you see.  I've even given them lists of suggestions for areas where improvement might be needed but apparently, my peeps have selective reading skills or something because so far they've taken none of my suggestions to heart. But by and large, as far as peeps go, I think they're pretty darned good, for sure.  Well acceptable, at least.


And of course, I'm thankful for all of you.  I'm thankful for each and every one of you who read my blog, twice a week, every week.  I'm thankful for any of you who just drop on by, occasionally, too.  I'm thankful for getting the chance to know you and thankful that you have chosen to be my friends.  And I'm thankful that you have accepted my friendship in return.  I am thankful that together, we can all be one big happy family and when it comes to Thanksgiving, family and friends is what it's all about, for sure.

So HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYBODY!  May you spend this weekend surrounded by loving family and friends and may you all enjoy many Thanksgivings to come.

they are? MOUSES!

BIRD TV: The Bay Window Channel was pretty active, last week.  There were some cute little brown birds visitin' the honeysuckle that grows by that window. They were after the berries, I think.  I didn't actually see any berries in their mouths but the birds have gone now and so have all the berries so, puttin' two and two together and squishing 'em around a bit 'til the numbers got crunched and munched, I came to the conclusion that the little brown birds ate 'em.  Ate the berries.  'Cause like I said, the berries are now all gone.

The bay window is in my office so I look out it, quite often.  For the last couple of days, I've been lookin' and lookin' for those birdies but there are none to be seen.  Not a one.  Guess they've gone lookin' for more honeysuckle in other cats' gardens.

Peep #1 asked me if I had seen the brown birdies yesterday or on the weekend.  She was askin' in a weird kind of way.  In such a way that would best be described as... suspicious.  I think she was thinkin' that I might have chased those birdies or somethin'.  The nerve of that peep!  I, Nerissa the Cat, would never chase a bird away.

I looked the peep straight in the eye and said, "I don't chase birds.  I just watch 'em on TV."

Of course, the peep knows this to be correct and was prepared to let the matter go but the conversation reminded me of all those ridiculous peeps out there who like to blame cats for killin' all the birds.

Both my peeps and I agree that those ridiculous cat-blamin' peeps are totally wrong.  They're totally wrong 'bout us cats killin' birds.  Their theories tend to be skewed to the point of bein' screwed on account of their cherry pickin' of facts and whatnot.  And facts that don't fit their theories?  Those get tossed in the trash, I do believe.  Yup, right alongside the cherry pits.  Hmmm....  They should be putting 'em in the compost.  Cherry pits are biodegradable.  MOUSES!

Anywho...   I was reminded of those ridiculous peeps and before I thought it through, I repeated to the peep, "I don't chase birds." And I followed that with, "I don't chase 'em, I don't kill 'em and I most certainly don't eat 'em.  MOUSES!"

That was the moment that Peep #1 chose to inform me of somethin'.  Yup, she chose to inform me that turkeys are birds.

I stared at the peep in utter disbelief before exclaiming, "They are?  MOUSES!  You sure 'bout that, Peepers?  I think you might be wrong on that one."

I shook my head, clearin' my mind.  I had to think about what the peep was sayin', rationally.  She wasn't makin' any sense.  This turkey of a theory couldn't possibly be right.  Birds fly.  Birds fly around the garden.  Birds have wings.  That didn't sound like the turkey I enjoy every mornin' at breakkie.  No...  the turkey I eat comes in tins.  Birds don't come in tins.  Do they?

A heated discussion ensued and, for the first time, in the history of the world, EVER, Peep #1 won. Yes, my friends, I have recently been informed that I, Nerissa the Cat, do, in fact, eat birds.  Who knew?

I sat down on my haunches and pondered the fact that I, Nerissa the Cat, had been caught in the act.  Caught in the act of eatin' birds.  And I never even knew.  MOUSES!

Then all of a sudden, I came to a realisation.  I opened my eyes and I glared at the peep.  "Hold on there, Peepers," I cried.  "Hold on there for one mousie mousin' moused-up minute...  I'm not the only one eatin' birds.  What's more, we cats aren't the only species eating 'em, either."

That's right, those aforementioned ridiculous peeps who like to blame us cats for killin' all the birds have some explainin' to do.  Are THEY not aware that turkeys are birds?  Have they been deceived by the concept of the tins, too?  Or are they just skewin' their facts, once more?

Those peeps wanna blame us cats for killin' birds and do so in such a way that they make themselves look all innocent and everything.  I have long known that what is really killin' birds are things like lost habitats bein' stolen by peeps and the poisoning of the birds' food supply with pesticides, herbicides and various other words endin' in 'cide' which is never a healthy way for a word to end, if you know what I mean.

I now realise that the peeps who blame us cats for their own homicidal tendencies aren't just killin' the birds but they're eatin' them, too!

That's right...  peeps are out there, are eatin' all the birds.  They're probably eatin' them right now. MOUSES!

Well, not my peeps.  I've got a couple of veggie peeps on my paws, you see.  But other peeps. Other peeps out there who are not veggies.  They're the ones killin' and eatin' all the birds.  And they don't even seem to know it.

You know somethin'?  I bet the ones comin' up with the cat-blamin' theories do so, sittin' around their dining room tables, chowin' down on turkey and whatnot.  I bet they're sayin' stuff like, "How can we blame the cats this time," followed by, "pass me the turkey, hon, would you?"  MOUSES!

But it's not just the turkeys they're killin'.  There are the chickens, too.

That's right...  Once I discovered that peeps out there are killin' all the birds who are turkeys, I thought I should do some diggin' and what did I discover?  I discovered that chickens are birds as well.  MOUSES!

Peeps have been known to eat chickens.  So peeps out there must also be killin' those chickens.  In other words, they're killing even more birds.

I, bein' a rather well-informed kitty, have been known to watch a few episodes of shows featurin' cookin' and things.  I've seem 'em.  I've seen those chefs prancin' around, cookin' up ducks and geese and pheasants and whatnot.  And those little Cornish game hens.  I've never even met a Cornish game hen, far less killed one.  But peeps are killin' them.  They're killin' them, all the time. MOUSES!

Sounds to me like peeps are out there killin' all the birds with wanton abandon.  And some of these are the very same peeps as the ones tryin' to blame us cats.

Now I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin' that some will say that there's a difference between pretty little songbirds and larger birds used for game and whatnot.

I'm thinkin'...   IS THERE?  I mean, really, IS THERE?

I don't see the difference.  A bird is a bird is a bird is a bird.  They have feathers.  They have wings. Some of 'em, apparently, even come in tins.

The biggest differences between songbirds and turkeys are all in our minds.  Because a pretty little songbird is pretty and little, does that somehow make it better?  Does that somehow give it more value as a living creature than a turkey?  When it comes right down to it, are they not all birds?

I'm gonna have to do some heartfelt, soul-searching, here.  I have never considered myself to be a killer of the birds.  Because of the turkey-in-the-tin factor, I was confused.  Now that I know that turkeys are actually birds, I shall have to admit to having eaten a few. And some chickens, too.  Might I suggest that we all do some heartfelt, soul-searching.  Yup, each and every one of us.

And I have a message for all those bird conservancy peeps out there who insist upon wrongly claiming that cats are killin' all the birds.  I'm on to you, now. All of us cats, are.  It's as plain as day.  You just want to get rid of the cats to leave more birds for yourselves.  You're just thikin' about your own stomachs, you are.  MOUSES!

Turkey, anyone?

adventures with the peep

I had to think long and hard about writin' today's blog post.  I had to think long and hard about whether or not the world was ready for another 'adventures with the peep at the grocery store' kind of post.  I just wasn't sure.

So I did what any self-respectin' cat would do.  I took a nap.

Feelin' refreshed after my little catnap, I realised, of course it is!  Of course the world is ready for another post like this. Stuff happens.  Stuff happens at grocery stores.  Peeps are gonna wanna read 'bout that stuff, for sure.

Anywho...  Peep #1 went out shoppin' for cat food, yesterday.  She had to.  Our cupboards were bare.  Not a tin could be found.  We were gonna starve if the peep didn't find us some food.  We were in dire need of some tins of our very favourite kind.  Oh sure, there were other varieties of cat food in the house but all ten of us cats like the turkey that comes with the giblets, the best.  In fact, it's the only variety we'll all eat on a regular basis.  We've just gotta have it...  OR ELSE.

Truth be told, Peep #1 was out shoppin' for us several times last week.  On the lookout for our favourite food, she was.  Unfortunately, none could be found.

And yesterday wasn't all that different from last week.  Peep #1 went to first grocery store.  Nope. Not a single tin of my favourite cat food could be seen.  Peep #2 went to the second grocery store. Nada.  Not a single tin of my favourite cat food there, either.

MOUSES!  What was a peep to do?  She couldn't come home empty-pawed.  She wasn't ready to face us without a few bags of tins of somethin' edible.  Hmmm...

That's when Peep #1 headed on over to the outdoor livin' / hardware / automotive parts store.

JACKPOT!

That's right, my friends.  At the outdoor livin' / hardware / automotive parts store, my first peep hit the mother load of tins of gibletized turkey.  IT WAS GLORIOUS.  Yes, that's just what she said.  Okay, maybe she didn't say that.  Perhaps it was I who added the glorious bit but had my peep thought of it at the time, I'm sure she would have said it, too.  She just didn't think of it, you see.  She's not good with words, like me.

At the outdoor livin' / hardware / automotive parts store, there were a lot of tins of gibletized turkey.  Peep #1 managed to get a whole two dozen of 'em.  She could have bought more but the rest were on the bottom shelf.  Ol' Peepers took the tins that were near the front but the rest were way, way, way at the back on that bottom shelf and she wasn't able to reach 'em without gettin' down on her hands and knees.

But truth be told, my peep has been seen crawlin' around on her hands and knees on the floors of the grocery stores MANY a time - tryin' to reach stuff way, way, way at the back of the bottom shelf without bendin' her arms in ways arms were never meant to be bent - but we sort of got that bit all sorted.

At the first grocery store, they've moved my favourite tins of cat food up a shelf.  No more hands and knees crawlin' there.  The other grocery store peeps have moved the tins up a shelf, as well, but since they almost NEVER have my favourite kind in stock, it doesn't really matter.  Can't reach for what's not there.  Well...  you can but you look really silly doin' so.  Unless, of course, you're a mime.  Mimes do that kind of thing all the time.  But if you wanna pass yourself off as mime, you have to pledge an oath of silence, dress in mime clothes and paint your face white.  Don't know if the paint is permanent or not.  Never tried it, myself.  Not gonna pledge an oath of silence, either. MOUSES!

But back to the food.

You know, you'd think that the outdoor livin' / hardware / automotive parts store would be far more interested in sellin' things for cars than for cats.  And you'd think that the grocery stores would be more interested in sellin' stuff like...  um...  well...  GROCERIES.  Am I wrong in thinkin' that?  Am I drawin' the wrong conclusions 'bout these kinds of stores and their inventories?

Something 'bout his whole business smells mighty fishy to me.  Yes, mighty fishy, indeed.  But it's not my favourite food that's smellin' fishy 'cause like I mentioned before, my favourite cat food is turkey although I do enjoy a little grilled tuna with a garnish of nip on the side.

MOUSES!  I just thought of somethin'. You all know 'bout my peep's many failed attempts at the growin' of the nip, right?

What if....  What if...  What if Peep #1 been lookin' for nip plants at all the wrong places?  What if she shouldn't be lookin' for nip plants at plant nurseries, at all?  I know that seems like the logical place but hey, I always thought the grocery store was the logical place to find groceries and I've apparently been proven wrong 'bout that.

What if the peep should be lookin' for nip plants at the outdoor livin' / hardware / automotive parts store?  Or maybe a toy store?  Or, I know...  HAIR SALONS!  Yeah, hair salons.  I'm thinkin' that hair salons probably sell nip plants, for sure.  MOUSES!