I'm all that and more

They just can't help themselves.

MOUSES!

I'm a ladies' mancat, for sure.

MOUSES!

I'm a TOTALLY IRRESISTIBLE chick mag, my friends.

MOUSES!

I am all that, and more.

Not that I want to...  You know...  Blow my own horn.

Or boast, or crow, or bluster, or gloat!

I'm far too shy and modest for that. 

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, did any of you cats out there read 'bout how CNN has listed the Province of Nova Scotia as bein' a top tourist destination this summer?

It's a fact.

And did any of you cats out there read about why?

Well the truth is, they didn't really talk about why, a lot, and they certainly left out the most important reason for visitin' my province, for sure.

You know...

ME.

MOUSES!

It's a fact.

So to speak.

But I can't think of any OTHER reason.  Can you?

MOUSES!

Plus, I even have evidence on paw.  The EVIDENCE is on my side, for sure.

Let me give you an example.  The other day, I was gettin' some blood work done at the ol' blood-suckin', pokin', and prickin' place...

I mean, hospital.

Anyway, after the nurse sucked me nearly dry, leavin' hardly but one drop of blood to keep me goin', I was asked to hang out on the exam table for a bit, and wait for my doctor to appear.

And when my doctor came in, what did she do?

Did she give me an exam?

Nope.

Did she run more tests?

Nope.

She didn't even take my temperature!

And that, my friends, was a relief to say the least, 'cause the takin' of one's temperature when you're a cat is never a fun thing to do.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, the doctor came in and I'll ask again, what did she do?

Well he petted me, stroking my lovely orange furs.  She tickled me under my chin.  She even told me how handsome I am.

Which, by the way, I already knew but bein' told you're a good-lookin' boy never gets old in the least.

MOUSES!

And then that, my friends, was that.

MOUSES!

Clearly, SHE COULDN'T KEEP HER HANDS OFF ME.

And she didn't even charge for the visit.

It's true!

Yup, all the peep paid for was the blood work.  There were no consultation fees or anythin' like that.  Nothin' charged for the actual appointment.  Nothin' charged for takin' time out of my doctor's day.  Nothin' charged for...

WAIT. A. MINUTE.

I should have been charging HER.

She got to pet me and stroke my lovely orange furs.  She got to tickle me under my chin.  She even got to tell me how handsome I am.

And what did I get in return?

I got stuffed in a crate, not to mention havin' my precious bloods stolen.

MOUSES!

Well I certainly hope all those tourists CNN are sendin' this way know they're gonna have to PAY UP if they wanna meet me.

Of course, they can always pay me in catnip and treats.

MOUSES!

stinky bum

You all know my sister Mason, right?  The pretty little girl with the terribly stinky bum?

MOUSES!

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

What do you MEAN Mason wouldn't appreciate my tellin' the world she has a bit of a stinky bum?  'Cause let me tell you somethin', Peepers, I wasn't too keen on havin' that stinky bum of hers stuck in my face last night.  I wasn't too keen on that, at all.  I wasn't keen on account of the bum not bein' clean, and...

What?

WHAT?

Oh.

Really?

But what do you MEAN Mason would be embarrassed to know I was talking 'bout her like that?  It's not like I don't talk about other embarrassing things on my blog.  I talk about all the embarrassing things YOU do all the time.

MOUSES!

What?

WHAT?

FINE.

Er-hmm...  I have been informed that I'm not allowed to tell anyone about Mason's stinky bum.

MOUSES!

So just pretend I didn't say anythin' about it, earlier.  Okay?

So anyway...

So anyway, YOU DIDN'T HEAR THIS FROM ME, but this mornin', Mason had to go to the doctor's on account of her havin' a bit of a...

Uh...

Um....

A non rose-scented bum.

MOUSES!

Turns out, she's a tad constipated.

WHAT NOW, Peepers?

I'm not allowed to tell my readers Mason is constipated, either?

MOUSES!

First I'm not allowed to talk about this, and then I"m not allowed to talk about that.  Friggity-frack-de-quack-der-knack.  I'M BEIN' MUZZLED, I say.  MUZZLED!

MOUSES!

Okay, so this mornin', my sister Mason had to go to the doctor's to hang out for the afternoon, drinkin' nip-infused laxative teas while bathing in a rose-scented bath, and...

WHAT?  WHAT'S WRONG NOW?  What's wrong with what I just said, Peepers?  WHAT?  Are you sayin' I'm not allowed to talk about roses, either?

MOUSES!

Apparently, the peep thinks it's best I not say anythin' about Mason's afternoon at the uh...

Um...

At the place I'm not allowed to say, where she's doin' what I'm not allowed to talk about, and stuff.

BUT YOU DIDN'T HEAR IT FROM ME.

Okay?

So anyway, Mason will be comin' home around supper time, and hopefully, minus one very embarrassing, not-smellin'-of-roses, stinky bum.

MOUSES!

********

*ring ring...  ring ring*

You have reached the home of Seville the Cat.  Please leave a message at the tone.

Good afternoon, this is the kitty-cat hospital.  Miss Mason is awake and in recovery, and will be ready to go home after five, today.

********

Hmmm...  You know what, Peepers?  I see your point.  That IS embarrassing.  Mason will be SO EMBARRASSED to know the nurse called her Miss Mason like she was nothing more than a strikingly beautiful Southern debutante belle.  You know, instead of her preferred title:  HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, RULER OF ALL THE LAND AS FAR AS THE EYE CAN SEE WHILE STANDING ON ONE'S TIPPY TOES WAY UP AT THE TOP OF ONE'S GOLD-PLATED, DIAMOND ENCRUSTED PEDESTAL.

Yeah, that one.  That's the title Mason asked us all to commit to memory and announce whenever she enters a room.


MOUSES!

deja vu

"He went thataway, Peepers," and I motioned with a flick of my tail.

"Where?"

"There."

"What?"

WAIT A MINUTE!!!

I NEED YOU TO HOLD ONTO THOSE HORSES, for sure.

Oh my mouses, THAT'S what happened about a month ago, and not what happened this last week.

MOUSES!

Although there were some similarities, to be sure.

Andy had another appointment with the doctor, you see.  Dr. T. needed to check on his teeth.  She needed to see if the abscess was all gone, and to figure out if there was a tooth needin' to be...  Well...  Removed.

So...

So picture it: Andy was upstairs on a bed, quietly mindin' his own business, when Peep #1 entered the room with a harness tucked into her pocket.

AND HE WAS OFF!

Again.

MOUSES!

Oh those two had a FUN time runnin' around the house.  They went down two flights of stairs, all the way down to the basement, then back up into the kitchen, spent some time under the kitchen table, then back down to the basement behind the freezer, and then...  Well it was about then when Andy remembered that if you hide under the stairwell, way WAY at the back, where there are no lights at all, peeps won't crawl in there to get you.

Fact.

MOUSES!


So the appointment on the 22nd of December...  Well..  Well it had to be cancelled, for sure.

MOUSES!

Now fast forward to December 29th.

Once again, Andy was upstairs on a bed when the peep sauntered up to the second floor.  "Hum-dee-dum-dee-dum," she sang.  If you can call that noise singin', that is.  "Where-oh-where is the toilet paper?" she asked, before openin' the hall closet to look for it in there.

But it was a ruse, my friends.  A RUSE!

Apparently not findin'' any toilet paper in the closet - EVEN THOUGH THERE WAS A WHOLE BIG BAG OF IT SITTIN' THERE WAITIN' TO BE SHREDDED - she made her way into the bedroom.  "Hum-dee-dum-dee-dum," she sang again.  "Where-oh-where is the... Uh...  Hmmm..."

Lookin' as innocent as possible, the peep made her way over to the dressing table.  She reached out to lift somethin' up, then SPUN on her heels AND MADE A GRAB FOR ANDY, who was still lyin' on the bed.

But it was too late, 'cause...

HE WAS OFF!

Down the stairs the two went with Andy in the lead, and Peep #1 close on his tail.   Andy swung to his right to head down into the basement, only to find...

MOUSES!  Thwarted.  The door to the basement was closed.

Good thinkin' there, Peepers.  Always good to be prepared.

Then into the family room they went, where Andy crouched down, low, and gave the peep a good ol' meow.

Peep #1 approached, speakin' softly to him, pretendin' she wasn't intent on grabbin' him the first opportunity she got.

My gosh, how dumb does the peep think Andy is?  Andy's not gonna fall for that.  Andy...

Apparently, Andy did.

MOUSES!

Then the harness was strapped on and off the two went to see Dr. T.  And that, my friends, was that.

Uh...  Not quite, my brother says, 'cause...

'Cause Andy, apparently, has some tartar formin' on his teeth.  And do you know what?

HE HAS TO USE MOUTHWASH NOW.

BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

On the other paw, I probably shouldn't laugh.  This could be a good thing.  Maybe it can deal with that stinky ol' fish breath of his.

MOUSES!

But imagine a cat havin' to use mouthwash.  Oh sure, it's perfectly edible stuff.  Perfectly safe for cats, I'm told.  Not sure on the taste, mind you.  The peep asked the doctor but alas, the doctor has not tasted it, herself.  And Andy isn't tellin' me if he likes how it tastes or not.  He's still annoyed 'bout havin' his mouth pried open and mouthwash squirted inside, while I...

While I, Seville the Cat, am sittin' back with my paws up, enjoyin' the show.

MOUSES!

the appointment

"He went thataway, Peepers," and I motioned with a flick of my tail.

"Where?"

"There."

"What?"

"To your right, Peepers.  He went to your right."  I watched the peep turn and nearly run into the wall.  "No, your OTHER right.  The other...  Hmmm...  To my right, I guess.  Hehehe...  Yeah," and I sighed.  "He went that way," and I pointed to uh..  The peep's left.

The peep took off, and out of the kitchen.  She looked kinda frenzied.  Somewhat frazzled, too.  She didn't look good, just between me and you.

"Did he go downstairs or up?" she asked from the front hall.

"Yes."

"What?"

Tryin' to keep my cool, I reminded myself 'bout the peep's lack of skills when it comes to comprehension and stuff.  "I said, yes."

"Yes he went upstairs, or yes he went down to the basement?"

"YES HE WENT ONE OF THOSE TWO WAYS!" I hollered.  "MOUSES!"

Then I thought for a moment.  On the other paw, maybe he went into the livin' room.  I wondered if I should I tell the peep 'bout that third possibility.  Nah, she was already out of the kitchen.  Best thing I could do was let her search through all the bedrooms, upstairs, first.  If she didn't find Andy up there, I would suggest she check the livin' room.

I sauntered into the livin' room, myself.  You know, to check if Andy was there.  And lo and behold, he was.  "I see you're hangin' out here in the livin' room," I said.

"DON'T TELL THE PEEP!" my brother cried.  "I have a doctor's appointment this morning, and I do not want to go."

"I know all 'bout that doctor's appointment of yours.  Peep #1 is currently upstairs looking for you, you know.  She'll be lookin' under beds, and in closets, and who knows where else."

"Yeah, I saw her heading up there but managed to duck out of sight in the nick of time.  Whew!"  My brother wiped his forehead with a paw.  "She's...  OH NO!  She's coming back down the stairs, Sivvers.  I'VE GOT TO HIDE."  And with that, Andy disappeared under the chesterfield.  It was surprising, to say the least, as I had no idea he could fit under there.  MOUSES!

The peep poked her head into the livin' room.  "Any sign of your brother in here?" she asked.

"Ummm..."  I looked about.  "Not at the mo," I replied, which was true, on account of my not actually bein' able to SEE Andy under the couch.  There was no trace of him.  Not even the tip of his tail.  MOUSES!

The peep sat down on the arm of the big chair to catch her breath.  "Well he isn't upstairs.  I looked EVERYWHERE."

I nodded, wonderin' if I should tell her where Andy was.  Nah, best to let the peep keep on lookin'.   Peeps do like to feel a sense of accomplishment, I've found, and to point out Andy's location would spoil all my...  I mean, HER fun.  MOUSES!

"Did you check in the basement?" I nonchalantly asked.

"Not yet," and she stood.  "I'm heading there now."

"Thanks for not squealing on me," Andy said over my shoulder once the peep had left the room.  "To be honest, I thought you were going to tell."

"If we're bein' HONEST, so did I," I replied.  "But Andy, didn't you say you had a sore tooth?  You know, the only way to make that feel better is to go to the doctor.  Total fact.  Not alternative or anythin'.  MOUSES!"

Andy narrowed his eyes, obviously thinkin' about what I had said.  "But I don't LIKE going to the...  MEEEOOOOOWWWWW!" my brother loudly screeched.

"That tooth botherin' you again?"

Before he could answer, I understood exactly why he had yelled.  The peep was swoopin' into the livin' room like a condor or somethin'.  Never before had I seen her move with such swiftness.  Andy frantically looked in all directions, but there was nowhere to hide, and moments later, the peep had him in her clutches, and was holding him to her chest.

"Lemme go!  LEMMO GO!"

"No way, Buster.  You have an appointment at the vets."

"I KNOW!  That's why I need you to let go."

The peep and my brother each tried to stare the other down.  The peep won, of course, because...

Because...

Because she cheats, would be my guess.

MOUSES!

And then, without further ado...

Okay, so there was another good five or ten minutes of the peep strugglin' to get Andy's harness on.  He doesn't make it easy, that lad.  Believe me, I know, 'cause I heard the peep cry MOUSES! at least thirty-nine times.

A little while later...

'Bout an hour or so later, the peep and Andy returned.  The peep looked a little worse for wear, with her hair all kinda askew.  And her sweater was COVERED in fur.  Andy, on the other paw, looked kinda...  Hmmm...  Loopy.

I know, it's hard to tell with that boy.  But he really did look MORE loopy than usual.  Peep said the doctor gave him some pain meds.  In other words, MEDICAL NIP.

MOUSES!

So it's a wait and see kinda situation, from what I understand.  He has an abscess, but the antibiotics will deal with that.  And there are pain meds on board 'til those bio-ants do their thing.  The peep and my doctor will have a chat early this week.  Probably 'bout clothes and makeup and other GIRLY things.

On the other paw, they'll probably just talk about Andy, discussing how and when Dr. T. will attempt to track down his naughty tooth.

MOUSES!

so anyway...

So anyway, like I told the peep:  "No way.  Uh-uh.  NOT gonna happen, for sure.  MOUSES!"

And like the peep told me: "THINK AGAIN SIVVERS."

So I thought about it - which, by the way, is somethin' I ALWAYS do.  Thinkin', that is.  And after thinkin' for a bit, I came to the conclusion, I had been RIGHT all along, so...

So I said, "NO," which I followed with a very loud, "MOUSES!"

But the peep, bein' a peep, persisted.

MOUSES!

I'm tellin' ya, first she tried headfirst, then tailfirst, then even resorted to sayin', "Please."

Well if all you out there know me - and by know me, I mean, know me WELL - you can probably guess what happened next.

Did the peep give up and shuffle away with her head hangin' low, you ask?

HA!  No, she didn't give up at all.  Go ahead.  Guess again.  See if you can guess what she did then.

You give up?

Awww...  MOUSES!

Okay, if you don't have another guess, I'll tell you what happened next.

What the peep did then, was...

Well...

Well right about then, the peep went upstairs to change her pants.

MOUSES!

Now you're probably all wonderin' if the peep PEED her pants.  You know, on account of her havin' to change 'em and all.  And IF you thought that, you'd be right, and...

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

FINE.

MOUSES!

Okay, so the peep says I have to tell you that she did not, in fact, pee her pants.

MOUSES!

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

BUT I ALREADY TOLD 'EM YOU DIDN'T PEE YOUR PANTS.

You made me tell 'em.  Remember?

Awww...  MOUSES!

Okay, so the peep says that since I'm the one who brought it up in the first place, I have to tell you that I...

Uh...

Um...

*SIGHS*

She says I have to tell you that I, Seville the Cat, am the one who peed upon the peep's pants.

But in all fairness, SHE WAS TRYIN' TO PUT ME IN A CAGE WHEN I DID IT.

MOUSES!

Yeah, yeah...  FINE.  So it wasn't so much of a cage, as a carrier.

But still...

I'm tellin' ya, I have GOT to lock that ol' peep of mine out of my office while I'm workin' on my blog.

She gets upset at the tiniest little things.

MOUSES!

Okay.  FINE.  I'm tell 'em everythin', EXACTLY as it happened.

So the peep was tryin' to get me into the carrier to take me to see Dr. T.  She didn't pee her pants but rather, I, Seville the Cat, did the peein'.  Whilst she was wearing the pants, that is.  The peep then had to go upstairs and change out of those peed upon pants before we could go to the doctor's office, and...

Oh, great.  NOW the peep is remindin' me how I never apologised for havin' peed on her pants.

Well THAT would probably be on account of my not bein' sorry for havin' done it.

MOUSES!

Boy-oh-boy, that ol' peep of mine must really be losin' it in her old age.  IMAGINE her thinkin' I'd be sorry for havin' peed on her whilst SHE WAS SHOVIN' ME INTO A CAGE.

Yeah, yeah...  CARRIER.

Peepers, why don't you go fix yourself a little snack or somethin' and let me finish writin' my blog post in peace, huh?

MOUSES!

Okay, so now that she's gone, let me tell you what REALLY happened.  Let me tell you all 'bout how the peep REALLY ended up with pee all over her pants.

Once upon a time, on a very dark and stormy evenin'...

MOUSES!

I've been robbed!

Hello, Officer?  I'd like to report a crime.  I've been robbed.  I'm the victim of a theft.  THEY STOLE MA BLOODS!  Pardon the kitty speak, Sir, but I'm a little emotional at the mo.  Like I said, THEY STOLE MA BLOODS!  MOUSES!

It's true.  They stole my blood.  And I know exactly who did it, too.  It was my doctor.  She took an entire vial and the worst part was, Peep #1 was right there at the time, facilitating the crime.  She was aiding and abetting, for sure.  Again I must say, MOUSES!

What's that Peepers?  It was for my own good, you say?  REALLY?  Okay...  FINE.  Guess you might actually be right about that.  You might actually be right about somethin' this one and only time.  Enjoy bein' right, Peepers.  It doesn't happen very often.  Enjoy it while it lasts.  MOUSES!

Truth be told, I hadn't been feelin' my best in the last little while.  In the last few months, I had lost some weight.  Perhaps a little more than I should.

At first, it was kind of a good thing that I lost weight.  I was never overly heavy but I do have a bit of arthritis in my hips so losin' a little was good in a way.  But then I lost more and Peep #1 felt that she could feel a bit too much of my shoulder and hip bones to her likin'.  I had a good tum on me but she was worried 'bout the rest.

There were a couple other things goin' on, too, but I won't go into a lot of detail 'bout those on account of this here bein' a family friendly blog and no one really wants to hear too much 'bout icky stuff comin' out of either end and certainly not both.  MOUSES!

But I will say that the peep said I was "lookin' a little down in the mouth."  Yup, that's just what she said.  Not quite sure what she meant though 'cause my mouth was - and still is - exactly where it should be and no one was lookin' down it or anythin'.  Weird sayin' if you ask me.  MOUSES!

Okay, enough with the mouses.

Anywho...  Peep #1 made an appointment for me with my doctor and last Thursday, she took me in to the hospital.  That's when it happened.  That's when they stole my blood.  MOU....  Um, never mind.

So the vial of my blood was whisked off into another room where they began runnin' a battery of tests.  Luckily for them, we had had no major power outages in recent months so there were lots of batteries to be found.

They were checkin' for three things. They were checkin' for thyroid problems, diabetes and my kidney function.  Peep #1 had her fingers crossed that the tests would discover what was goin' on with my health and that whatever it was, was treatable. She was crossin' a lot of fingers, I think, and perhaps some toes, too. She was hopin' and prayin' that I would be A-okay.

Well my doctor called later that day sayin' there was good news.  She said the blood tests had done the ol' trick. She did not, however, mention if I would be gettin' my blood back.  I'm thinkin' it might be tucked away somewhere in an evidence room or somethin' on account of it bein' stolen property and all.   MOUSES!

Well you knew I'd start sayin' mouses again sooner or later, right?  Just so happens it turned out to be sooner rather than later.  Such is life.  MOUSES!

Anywho...  The good news is that the problem is with my thyroid and it's pretty easy to solve.  One little pink pill, once a day, should do the trick.  I have to go back again in a month for a re-check. I'm thinkin' they're gonna wanna steal more of my blood.  Awww....  MOUSES!

But I'm super good with pills so takin' one little ol' pill, daily, will be easy peasy for me.  Peep #1 just pops it in my mouth and I swallow.  I'm a real trooper, for sure.

The peep knows better than to try to trick me when it comes to takin' pills.  Once she tried givin' me a deworming pill in the same way she gives 'em to the rest of my fur-fam.  For them, they all get the pill wrapped in a pill pocket which is then hidden in some of the fanciest of the feasts, given straight up.  Works for them but for me?  NO WAY.  She tried that ol' trick on me and what did she find? She found one little dewormin' pill lyin' in the middle of a plate.  That's right, I ate the fancy food and the pill pocket and spat that ol' pill right back out.  I'm quite talented like that, you see.

Good thing it isn't my sister, Constance, who has to take the daily pills.  Connie doesn't do pills.  It's a fact.  Oh sure, you might get the first one in her but there will never be a second.  Gotta catch her first and she has some excellent hidin' spots.  Not even I know where they all are.  MOUSES!

And I just wanna point out that the little pink pills I'll be takin' are pink.  Yes, PINK.  They're not to be confused with those little blue ones that ol' spammer, Mr. Anonymous Spam, keeps tryin' to sell me.  Imagine tryin' to sell a neutered kitty, like me, little blue pills.  MOUSES!

I suppose I really should call the police back up and cancel that APB on my missin' blood, huh? 'Cause it's not really missin', after all.  Yeah, perhaps I should do that sometime.

But I can tell you somethin' that is missin'.  An hour.  We're all missin' an hour around here.  Not sure if it was actually stolen, though.  I think that maybe it's just lost.  Can you put out an APB on a missin' hour if it's only lost?

But do we actually know that that missin' hour is just lost?  Do we know it's not a victim of foul play?  And do we know if there are any chickens involved?  MOUSES!

Perhaps that missin' hour simply crossed the road with a chicken and couldn't find its way back.  And if so, why?  WHY?  And perhaps a better question to ask would be, did they look both ways before crossin'?  No one ever asks that question, you see.  No one but me.

So many questions, so little time.  A whole hour less of time for investigatin' this matter at paw.  I had best get on that right away.  I'll let you know the minute I find that missin' hour.  I'm thinkin' I should find it by the end of October, for sure.  MOUSES!

a common enemy

My two marmie brothers had to see the doctor last week.  Don't worry, it was nothin' serious.  Just annual check-ups and whatnot.

Peep #1 was torn between takin' Rushton and Seville together or takin' them separately.  Together, they're quite an impressive pair.  Both big and handsome marmalade boys.  On the other paw, they also kind of hate one another.  Would takin' them together wreak havoc at the doctor's office?  It was always a possibility but the peep decided to chance it anyway.

I've blogged about those two and their personality differences before.  Nothin' Rushton and Seville like more than gettin' up into each other's business, nose to nose and all personal like and then lettin' loose with the howls and growls and who knows what else.  Well I know what else.  Once, Peep #1 went downstairs after one of their little marmie incidents and found chunks of marmalade fur all over the place.  Seville claimed that Rushy was just sheddin' and although Rushy does shed a lot in the spring, I really don't think his fur comes out in chunks like that.  At least not when simply sheddin'.  MOUSES!

So the decision was made that my marmie brothers would go to the doctor, together.  Peep #1 got out the carriers and put fresh towels in them.  The towels were spread out nicely for comfort.  Then she went in search of marmies.

Rushton was the first to be found as he happened to be snackin' in the kitchen.  The peep picked him up and proceeded to encourage him to enter the carrier.  Nothin' doing.  No way, no how, was that brother of mine going inside.  Peep #2 had to be called in for reinforcements.  The second peep held the carrier upright and, of course, the towel laid over the bottom of the carrier fell to the back where it remained and was pretty much useless.

With the carrier still in an upright position, Peep #1 attempted a drop insertion, tail-end first, of my brother.  Well Rushy grabbed hold of the edge of that carrier and held on as tightly as a cat can hold which, believe me, is pretty darned tight.  The peep lifted one paw only for Rushy to hold on even more tightly with the other and, I'm told, he was bracing his back legs within the carrier, preparing for a vertical escape.

Peep #1 was just about to give up on the carrier business.  Not only was Rushton simply unwillin' to go into it but Ol' Peepers was beginning to question whether or not he would even fit!  Did I happen to mention that my brother Rushy is a rather big boy?  Well he is and let me tell you...  floof and big bones can only account for so much, you know?

But then, miraculously, Rushy let go of the edge of the carrier for just a second.  I think he was tryin' to get a better grip or somethin' but Peep #1 was on the ball, I tell you.  Seizing the opportunity, she stuffed my marmie brother into the carrier.  Tight squeeze but he made it...  FINALLY.

So the peep then went off in search of Seville.  She found him outside.  Sivvers, bein' a rather co-operative kind of guy, came immediately when she called him.  He was likely hoping there might be a snack in the offing.

Peep #1 encouraged him to enter the second carrier, head first, with a gentle SHOVE to his butt but Sivvers was havin' nothin' of that.  So once again, the second peep's assistance was required and the carrier was held up on its end only for its towel to fall to the back where it was utterly useless, just like Rushy's towel.

The tail-first drop insertion method proved to be much more manageable with Seville and within five minutes, he was in.  You're probably thinkin' that five minutes is a long time to take to get a cat into a carrier but believe you me, it took a lot longer than that to get Rushy in.

Watching from a safe distance, I looked over at the clock and noted that the peeps were already late for the marmies' appointments and they hadn't even left the house yet.  MOUSES although, to be honest, typical.

Peep #1 attempted to pick up the two carriers.  It wasn't easy.  I think she thought she was liftin' weights or something but eventually she managed it and they were off.

Now the rest of the story I did not witness first-paw however the peep took notes for me and I trust her note-taking abilities.  Anywho...

My brothers were ushered - or rather, carried in their carriers - into the exam room.  Seville refused to exit his carrier.  This is pretty much the norm when we visit the doctor and the peep has become quite competent at takin' apart the carrier so that the top half is simply lifted off.  Puttin' the carrier together afterwards still eludes her, however.

Once Seville had been removed from the carrier, his temperature was taken and his weight, calculated.  Sixteen pounds.  MOUSES!  Really big mouses.

Then the nurse wanted to see Rushy.  Hmmm...  That would require havin' Rushton and Seville both out of their carriers at the same time.  Clearly, the peep had not thought this through.  It was suggested that Seville could go back into his carrier while she checked on Rushy but Seville's carrier was still in pieces from the peep havin' had to take it apart and what's more, even if they put it back together again, they would have a devil of a time, gettin' him back out when the doctor arrived. Decisions...  decisions...

Finally it was decided that they would risk havin' both boys out together.  Rushy's carrier was dismantled and he was lifted out.   His temperature was found to be normal and his weight was calculated.  Seventeen point six pounds?  MOUSES, Rushton.  You eatin' the plates as well as the food these days?

When the doctor arrived, Seville and Rushton were both on the exam table, being held at opposite ends.  Somewhat unbelievably, there was no chaos.  There were no howls and no growls to be heard.  There were no nose to nose confrontations going on.  I know they were bein' held at opposite ends of the table but those exam tables aren't that big.  There couldn't have been a lot of space between the two.

The doctor examined each of my marmie brothers before giving them their vaccinations.  All remained peaceful and calm.  Seville had one little clump of fur near his tail that needed attendin' and the doctor combed that right out.  He was lucky our doctor did it 'cause Peep #1 would likely have snipped it.  Yeah, she would likely have taken the easy way out, for sure.

On the other paw, Rushton had some matted fur in the tail area that needed to be dealt with immediately.  The doctor used the shears or clippers or whatever and mounds of fur were left on the table.  By the way, a couple of days later it was somewhat damp and chilly outside and you should have heard the complaints emanating from Rushton 'bout how his bum was feelin' a draft.  MOUSES!

This peace between my brothers would NEVER have happened at home but apparently, when visitin' the doctor together, those two marmie brothers are quite capable of bein' well-behaved.  Who knew? A thought crossed Peep #1's mind but she didn't want to say it aloud however, the doctor did.  The doctor said right there and then that my brothers had untied against a common enemy...  HER. MOUSES!

Peep #1 is thinkin' that she will continue to take the marmie boys for their yearly exams together however, she's also thinkin' that she's gonna have to get bigger carriers in order to do it. Either that, or let them walk in on harnesses but I can tell you right now that neither one of those boys will be wearin' the harness that was bought for me when I was recuperating after havin' my knee bionicized.  They wouldn't fit! Nope, Ol' Peepers is gonna have to look into gettin' bigger harnesses. Maybe harnesses sized for dogs or somethin'. Anyone know what size of harness a Great Dane takes?  Maybe those would work for my marmie brothers.  Maybe...   MAYBE...  Yeah, that size might do the trick.

***  I just wanna let everyone know that even though my marmie brothers weighed in at sixteen and seventeen point six pounds, the doctor did not suggest that they go on diets.  In fact, Sivvers is already on a special diet on account of his crystals issue which has not reoccurred in well over a year and it's extremely important that the crystals are kept at bay.  Gotta pick your battles, you know?  And neither of the boys eats all that much.  At least, no more than the rest of us.  They're just big cats, we think.  Very big, indeed.

the dental

Looks like my sister, Tess, is goin' in for a dental this week.  Yup, it's true.  She has a sore tooth.

The peeps realised Tess had a sore tooth when she started growlin' at her food one day.  Now, growlin' for Tess is nothing new.  It's not news at all.  News, is by definition, new.  I should know 'cause you know... I, myself, am a bit of an investigative reporter and whatnot.  I understand what makes the news, news.

Anywho...  Tess' growling was nothin' new so it couldn't possibly be considered news.  Tess growls at the peeps.  She growls at the rest of us cats.  She even growls at the weather!  But she had never growled at her food before.  That's how the peeps figured out somethin' was wrong.

So last Tuesday night, Tess was shoved into a carrier and taken to see the doctor.  That's right... shoved.  Believe me, she didn't just waltz in when the carrier door was opened.  No, she wormed and she squirmed and eventually, Peep #2 held the carrier on its end while the first peep held Tess' back paws together with one hand, her front paws together with the other hand and directed Tess into the carrier, tail-end first.  I was watching from a safe distance and if I didn't know better, I would have thought I was watchin' an episode of Cops or somethin'.  You know, when the officer puts his paw on the suspect's head when gettin' him into the police car 'cause he's under arrest.  Of course, on Cops, the suspects don't usually growl.

Tess was growlin' up a storm in the kitchen while bein' shoved into that carrier.  I am told, however, that she didn't make a single peep on the way to the doctors' office or even in the waiting room while waitin' for the doctor.  Very unusual, indeed.  The peep checked a couple of times to make sure she was still breathin' in there.  She was.  I think, perhaps, she was plotting her revenge.

When Tess and the peeps finally got into the examination room, Tess had to be first examined by the nurse.  Usual stuff.  Temperature takin' and whatnot.  Oh, the indignity of the temperature taking! Why-oh-why-oh-why the nurses can't take our temperatures by lookin' in our ears or somethin' is beyond me.  Anywho...  the deed was done.  Tess' temperature was normal.

But then the nurse wanted to take a look in Tess' mouth. Tess decided that she had suffered in silence for far too long.  There was a growl.  Then another.  And then another.  Then came the screeches.  The howls.  The hissing and the spitting.  My sister, Tess, was back and in fine form.  That's the spirit!  You go girl.  The nurse understood, right away, that Tess was upset 'cause her mouth was hurtin' her.

Tess' behaviour was actually quite unusual 'cause usually, Tess purrs while at the hospital.  Oh, she growls and howls and screeches alright but she usually saves all that up for those with whom she feels the most comfortable...  her family.  With nurses and doctors, she purrs.  MOUSES!

But Tuesday night was different.  On Tuesday night, Tess decided she was havin' none of this business with peeps lookin' in her mouth.  Wasn't gonna happen.  No way, no how, was she gonna let the nurse look there.

The doctor arrived on the scene and Tess continued to behave as she had with the nurse.  She kept on hissing and spitting and whatnot.  She even made the first peep a little nervous and usually, the first peep is quite good in these situations which is amazin' since Peep #1 was once sent to the peep emergency room after bein' bitten fourteen times by my Auntie Primrose on Bloody Wednesday.  I once blogged all about that, remember?  But I digress.

Usually, whenever any of us are seein' the doctor, the first peep holds us when the doctors and nurses do unmentionable things like takin' our temperatures not in our ears.  But on Tuesday, Tess was hissing and spitting and growling and screeching so much that it was suggested that perhaps the nurse should hold Tess while the doctor looked at those teeth.

The gloves were mentioned.  I'm sure you've heard of the gloves.  The doctor called them kitty gloves but I'm pretty sure I saw once someone on television holding an eagle and it looked to me like they were wearin' the very same pair of gloves.  Thick leather right up to the elbows.

I'm not sure the doctor was able to get a very good look inside Tess' mouth.  I'm not sure that she was able to get a look at all.  Tess told me later that she's pretty sure she stopped that from happenin'.

I kind of think it was just decided that an appointment for surgery would be booked and a better look could be taken while Tess was snoozin' on the operatin' table.  I've never heard my sister growl while sleepin' so I think the doctors should be...  NO.  Wait a minute.  On second thought, I have heard my sister Tess growl while sleepin'.  Like I said before, my sister Tess growls at EVERYTHING.

But believe it or not, Tess made it through her very noisy doctor's appointment without a single drop of blood bein' shed.  Not hers or the doctor's or the nurse's or even the peep's.  All in all, it went well considering how upset Tess was that night.

Tess is thinkin' she managed to convince the doctor that her teeth are just fine but I looked on the calender and I happened to notice that she has an appointment booked for Wednesday mornin'.  Yup, it's true.  That means no snacks for any of us on Tuesday night after eight o'clock. MOUSES!  Whatever will we do?