thirty-nine weeks

 

Good mornin', Peepers.  Aren't you lookin' festive today.

Always pays to toss a compliment out to the peeps, every now and then.  Keeps 'em in good spirits for when you get caught doin' somethin' naughty.

I see you've got your Christmas earrings in, and...  And is that a new scrunchy I see your hair?  My, my, my...  Such a pretty Christmas fabric, too.  BEAUTIFUL.  GORGEOUS!  You did a good job with that scrunchy, for sure.

Okay, so there is such a thing as overdoin' it with the compliments.  One must be careful not to let the peeps think somethin' is up.

WHICH IT ISN'T.

Well, not really.

Okay, so maybe just a little.

MOUSES!

And did I mention how well you suit that green sweater you're wearin'?  I know I've seen it before, but I don't think I've ever told you how nice it looks, on.  Looks super good with your Christmas earrings and new scrunchy, too.

Hmmm...  Think I might have hit the too-many-compliments-she's-gettin'-suspicious stage.  I see that wary look in her eyes.

MOUSES!

Best get to the matter at paw.

So uh, Peepers...  Peepers, I...  I was thinkin'...  I WAS THINKIN'...

I was thinkin' that this year, we might not need to decorate the tree like we usually do.  I mean, it's a lot of work and THE LAST thing you need is extra work, right?  Right.  I mean...

I mean, you've been pretty much stuck in this ol' house with me for the last two hundred and twelve million, two hundred and eighty-four thousand, eight hundred cat seconds and, I think we can both agree, that's a whole lot of cat seconds to be cooped up, for sure.

I know, I know...  I know, it's been a lot harder on ME, than you, but that doesn't mean it's been a bed of roses for you, or anythin' like that.  I know I can sometimes be...

Be...

Uh...

Difficult?

Nah, that's not the word I mean.

Challenging.

Meh.

No matter.  My point is, I know that sometimes you and I have almost come to blows these last few months, what with the pandemic and all, so I figured as PART OF MY GIFT TO YOU, I... I would let you know that if you don't want to go to all the trouble and hard work of decoratin' the tree, it's okay by me.  I'LL SURVIVE.

I suppose.

*dramatically swipes paw across his brow as if ready to faint*

But if you DO decide to decorate after all...

Well....

Well might I suggest you not plug in the lights?  We want to save on electricity, and all.  Do our part for the environment.  Global warming IS real, you know.

That, and I think SOMEONE might have uh...  Um...  Chewed through one of the electrical cords.

Which isn't nearly as bad as that time when Aunti Primrose peed in the light socket!

Just sayin'.

OOHHHH....  PEEPERS!  Is that a new lipstick you're wearin'?  That colour suits you to a tee!

MOUSES!

 ***********************

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

twenty-seven weeks

 

First we had the Great Toilet Paper Shortage of 2020.  Remember that one?  There was nary a roll of TP to be found.

Not that I cared, mind you.  I mean, as a cat, I don't use toilet paper all that much.  Oh sure, I like to rip apart a roll, leavin' bits and pieces all over the bathroom floor as much as the next cat, but it's not like I use it to wipe myself after usin' the little boys' box.

MOUSES!

As long as the unavailability of toilet paper didn't mean peeps would be resortin' to usin' litter and my litter boxes, the ol' TP shortage didn't affect me.

Then came the Toilet Paper Wars.  Yup, you heard right.  Rightly?  Whatever.

Anyway, just like the Toilet Paper Shortage, the Toilet Paper Wars of 2020 also didn't affect me.  Peeps everywhere were fightin' over the few remainin' packages of TP on store shelves.  Playin' tug of war like two dogs wantin' the same chew toy, they were, willin' to tackle each other to the floor, and over rolls of TP.

Peeps.

MOUSES!

After the business with the toilet paper, other shortages ensued: paw sanitiser, disinfectant wipes, stuff like that.  Again, none of this affected me for as a cat, I don't use any of these things.  Never have; never will.

MOUSES!

And when peeps weren't busy cleanin' stuff, apparently, they were bakin'.  Bakin' bread and cakes and things.  Flour and yeast were swept off the shelves like beach umbrellas by a tsunami.  Thankfully, again, this did not affect me.

But then...

But then came the Great Yarn Shortage of 2020.  Peeps everywhere were buyin' up yarn like it was goin' out of style.  They must have been, for one day I sent Peepers out to buy me some yarn to make nip mice, but she came home empty-pawed late that evenin'.  Not a ball of yarn on the shelves, she said.

Now this - THIS - was important to me.

Thankfully, Peepers has a stash of yarn here at home.  She doesn't know I know where it is - and don't you go tellin' her I do - but I've seen it myself and I know it exists.

Whew.

MOUSES!

And now...

And now there is a shortage of thread.

Thread.

Can you believe it?

MOUSES!

It's true.  There's not a spool of thread on the store shelves.

Well truth be told, Peepers only went to the one store, so I don't know how widespread this shortage is, but still...

WILL THE SHORTAGE OF THREAD MEAN A SHORTAGE OF BIFF BAGS, TOO?

As a nip-lovin' cat, I go through biff bags like peeps go through socks, you see.

Okay, perhaps that's a poor analogy.  Most peeps go through socks a lot more quickly than I go through biff bags, if I'm gonna be honest.  But I'm sure there are SOME peeps out there who don't change their socks on a daily basis.  Now I definitely go through biff bags more quickly than than they change their dirty socks.

MOUSES!

The thing is, to make a biff bag, one needs thread.

But the thread shelves are bare!

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

Oh.  

Correction:  The thread shelves are bare of only white thread.  There are plenty of other colours, she says.

But I'm not havin' the peep make my biff bags with uncoordinated colours of thread.

No sirree.  I'm not sniffin' pink and green cotton biff bags sewn up with bright purple or orange thread.  Or turquoise, or fuchsia, or any other colour that doesn't go.

THERE ISN'T ENOUGH NIP IN THE WORLD TO GET ME NIPPED UP ENOUGH TO TOLERATE ANYTHIN' LIKE THAT.

I, Seville the Cat, am a cat with taste.  I have fashion sense, I do.  I have my own style!  I know the difference between tasteful and garish, and garish biff bags are not for me, you see.

Uncoordinated biff bags...

WHAT IS THIS WORLD COMIN' TO?

MOUSES!

It seems to me, that durin' the last one hundred and forty-six million, nine hundred and sixty-six thousand, four hundred cat seconds of this pandemic thing, peeps have started up a whole lot of bad habits.  Bad habits like usin' too much yarn and thread for ridiculously useless things, and not keepin' in mind that such commodities need to be saved for IMPORTANT things like the knittin' of nipmice and sewin' of biff bags.

PEEPS NEED TO START GETTIN' THEIR PRIORITIES STRAIGHT.

MOUSES!

 ***********************

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

twenty-six weeks

Are you nuts, woman?  Are you absolutely bloomin' NUTS?

Of course you are.

Silly question.

MOUSES!

I'm tellin' ya, bein' pretty much cooped up here in the house for the last one hundred and forty-one MILLION, five hundred and twenty-three thousand, two hundred seconds in cat time, has really taken its toll on your mental state, hasn't it, Peepers?

Don't answer that.  It was a RHETORICAL question.

But can you imagine what MY bein' cooped up with YOU has done to ME?

MOUSES!

Peepers, Peepers, Peepers...

*sighs*

Peepers, you do realise that most people...

Hmmm...

Peepers, you do realise that NORMAL people...

Yeah, that's better.

You do realise that normal people, especially ones with gardens, try to get RID of gigantic green caterpillars, don't you?  I mean, NORMAL people recognise that large green caterpillars are wantin' to eat your plants and things, and so the first thing they do when they see one is dispose of it.  You know that, don't you?

But you...

*sighs again, this time more loudly*

You are a different kinda peep, for sure.  You, my dear Peepers, see a big green caterpillar makin' its way across the street, and what do you do?

You go and rescue the darned thing.

MOUSES!

Bet you rescue worms on the driveway, too.

Of course you do.  Come to think of it, I've actually seen you doin' so.

MOUSES!

Peepers, what if that big ol' green caterpillar was a tomato hornworm or somethin' like that?  What if you rescued some kinda creepy crawlie that's gonna repay you by eatin' your tomatoes?

Well actually, it would be after the tomatoes belongin' to the neighbours down the street, I guess, on account of that's where you rescued it.

Neighbours are sure gonna love you.

NOT.

MOUSES!

But my point is, Peepers, it's fine to go 'round rescuing stray kitties and puppies and things.  In fact, rescuing kitties and puppies is a REALLY GOOD THING.  It's one of those things that gets peeps to Heaven and stuff.

And Peepers, feel free to rescue mice, too.  I must admit, I'm partial to a rescued mouse served with a creamy catnip sauce on the side, myself, but uh...


Um...

Never mind.

MOUSES!

BUT...

BUT NORMAL PEEPS DRAW THE LINE AT RESCUIN' CATERPILLARS.

Of course, you're not all that normal, are you?

Again, don't bother answerin'.  That's another rhetorical question, you see.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

twenty-five weeks

You take me for granted, Peepers.  YOU TAKE ME FOR GRANTED!

Don't think I don't know 'bout it bein' Ginger Cat Appreciation Day last week.  DON'T THINK I DON'T KNOW!

And FYI, Peepers: I, Seville the Cat, AM A GINGER.

MOUSES!

But did we celebrate?  Did you throw me a party?  Did you make me a cake?

DID YOU BUY ME MORE NIP?  HUH?  HUH?  HUH?  DID YOU?

No, you did not a thing.

MOUSES!

Stupid peep.

MOUSES!

Oh sure, you did set up that big gigantic ENORMOUS litter box, outside.

BUT THEN YOU COMPLAINED WHEN I USED IT!

Again, stupid peep.

MOUSES!

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

LIKE I TOLD YOU ON WEDNESDAY: IF IT LOOKS LIKE A LITTER BOX AND WORKS LIKE A LITTER BOX, IT IS A LITTER BOX, PEEPERS.  And I don't wanna hear nothing 'bout no stupid raised beds for veggies ever again.

MOUSES!

You know, when a kitty finds out there's a special day set aside especially for himself and other marmalade kitties like him, a kitty should be able to expect his peeps will throw him a party.

The LEAST you could have done was salmon mousse cupcakes with catnip cream cheese icing.

BUT DID I GET ANY OF THAT?

No.  Nadda.  Not a thing.

All I got was cheek.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of cheek...

IT'S SUPER CHEEKY OF PEEPS TO THINK THERE SHOULD BE CELEBRATIONS FOR THEM, WHEN NONE OF 'EM ARE DOIN' ANYTHIN' TO CELEBRATE ME.

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

What do you MEAN "EVERY DAY" is a day where you celebrate me?  What do you MEAN?

Seriously, Peepers, what DO you mean?  'Cause I'm not seein' it, here.

I WANT A PARTY!

A big party.  A big party 'specially for me.  A party with all the cats in the neighbourhood, and...

Scratch that.  I don't really like the other cats in the neighbourhood.

Hmmm...

Okay, how 'bout this?  Peppers, you bake me a cake filled with yummy stuff like tuna and catnip and things, then pile on the prezzies - FYI, I like nipmice - and then...

Then...

Then take out a full page ad in the paper 'bout how wonderful I am, and how stupid you are for makin' me miss out on Ginger Cat Appreciation Day, and...

I'M NOT DONE YET.

Don't interrupt or I'll have to start all over again.

And in that ad, Peepers, you can explain how I've been cooped up in this here house with you two peeps for one hundred and thirty-six million, eighty thousand seconds in cat time, and how I must be like some kinda extra-special SAINT havin' put up with you for so long, and...

AND HOW I'M WILLIN' TO ACCEPT DONATIONS OF CATNIP.

You know, if anyone has any lyin' around.

Got that, Peepers?  HUH?

Good.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

twenty-four weeks

Shakespeare's got NOTHIN' on me.

MOUSES!

Yeah, yeah..   I know.  I know what you're thinkin'.  I know he's more famous, and all that.

But...

But he wasn't a cat.

MOUSES!

Can you imagine?  Can you IMAGINE how much greater Will would have been, had he been feline?

MOUSES!

I was doin' a little light readin' the other night, and discovered somethin' interestin'.  DID YOU KNOW that William Shakespeare turned to writin' poetry durin' the plague in the 1590s?

Yup, that's what he did.

I read it on the Internet so it must be true.

MOUSES!

They...

Now I have no idea who THEY are, but they seemed to know what they were talkin' about, and what they were sayin' fit my PURRsonal narrative, so I figured I'd go with what THEY said, without investigatin' any further.

So anyway...

So anyway, they said that Will...

I call him Will, on account of my bein' pretty sure that if he and I, Seville the Cat, were livin' at the same time, we'd be on a first name basis, you see.

MOUSES!

But like I was sayin'...

Like I was sayin', THEY said that Will turned to writin' poetry on account of all the theatres bein' shut down for about six months, due to The Plague.

So I figured, if Will turned to poetry durin' the plague, I should try my paw at a little poetry myself.  After all, Will didn't have to be cooped up in the same house as Peep #1 and Peep #2 for like an absolute eternity.

Like me.

MOUSES!

So after bein' stuck here with the peeps for like ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY MILLION, six hundred and thirty-six thousand, eight hundred cat seconds, I present to you...

MY sonnet.

I call it, Ode to a Puddle.

MOUSES!

Nothing is as fresh nor as sweet, my love,

as the divine taste of rain that has fall'n

on the path which lies there, next to my house.

The joyful rain that collects in puddles

is known to felines here and everywhere

as puddle water; water that puddles.

For the water that puddles is Heavn's gift

to all who appreciate the finer

things in life, like catnip and wand toys and

nip mice.  Oh, the sweet water of puddles.

It comes not from a tap nor a fountain.

'Tis not from anything paw or hand made.

The water that puddles is a sweet gift

from the sky above; pure freshness for me.

So what do you think?  Are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin?

'Cause I'm thinkin'...

I'm thinkin', Will would have been proud to have called me his contemporary.

Had I been alive in the sixteenth century, of course.

Actually, I think that might mean the same thing.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

twenty-three weeks

'CAUSE I'M A BLOGGIN' KITTY, YOU FREAKS!

Sorry.  Sorry!  Gosh darn it, I SAID I was sorry.  I usually only call Peepers a freak.  Gimme ten minutes and I'll come up with somethin' else to call you.

MOUSES!

BLOGGIN'.  BLOGGIN'!  I'll explain it to you again: I have a blog.  Yes, I am a cat AND I have a blog, and that means I need the Internet, you see.

Let's try this ONCE MORE.  I, Seville the Cat, have a blog.  And I can't write my blog unless I can get on-line, and I...

YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW SLIPPERY THESE HERE COMPUTER KEYS ARE FOR MY CLAWS?  I can't be fiddlin' over and over and over again, hopin' and purrin' that THIS time it'll work.  I'M SEVILLE THE CAT!  I CAN'T WORK WITH NOTHIN' MORE THAN A HOPE AND A PURR.

*hangs up phone*

Boy-oh-boy, you'd THINK our Internet provider would be proud to have me, Seville the Cat, usin' their services, but from the looks of things...

Awww....  MOUSES!

*deep breaths*

I'm upset.  Peepers is upset.  The neighbours are probably upset, too, on account of that ol' scream Peepers let out 'bout an hour ago.

It was a doozy, for sure.

The scream, I mean.  Not the peep.

MOUSES!

It's bad enough I've been cooped up here with the peeps for one hundred and twenty-nine million, one hundred and ninety-three thousand, six hundred cat seconds, due to this pandemic thingy.  And now I have to be cooped up with 'em with lousy Internet service, too?

It's more than a kitty can bear, I tell you.  MORE THAN A KITTY CAN BEAR!

MOUSES!

The peeps are seriously thinking 'bout switchin' Internet providers.  Switchin' is a hassle, Peepers says, but...

But I won't have to do anythin', so it isn't a hassle for me.  As opposed to my not bein' able to get on-line when I need to blog, or everythin' bein' so slow I can't visit my pals on Facebook.  Now THOSE THINGS are hassles, for sure.

For me.

And that's what counts.

What's more, what's a hassle for me is a hassle for others, too, 'cause...

'Cause when I start complaining 'bout feelin' hassled...

WATCH OUT.

MOUSES!

NO, I'm not thinking 'bout complainin' by meowing, loudly.  I could, of course, but that's not the most effective method of complainin', you see.

The MOST EFFECTIVE method of complainin' is...

POOPS IN SHOES.

THAT'S how you get their attention, for sure.

MOUSES!

The question is, how can I get my paws on all the shoes belongin' to the peeps in charge of the Internet?

Hmmm...

I know!

Peepers, prepare the teleportation device.

Why?

WHY?

'Cause I've got some poopin' to do.

MOUSES!

I had best pack a couple masks to take with me, I think.

You know, to be socially responsible and stuff.

AND I had best pack some dairy type snacks like uh...  Like cheese and a big bowl of milk.

If you're gonna poop in peeps' shoes to make a statement, you wanna make that statement as soft and as STINKY as can be.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

twenty-two weeks

Whatcha got there, Peepers?

*sniff sniff, sniff sniff sniff*

Hmmm...  That's not nip.

"I know they're not catnip, Seville, but aren't they pretty?"

Meh.  Like I said, they're not nip.

"Well I like carnations, Seville, so there."

You like a lotta stupid stuff, Peepers, so THERE!

MOUSES!

Don't you roll your eyes at me like that, Peepers.  You and I both know darn well those flowers aren't as good as catnip.  They're not as good as nip mice, or nippy biff bags, or any other kinda catnip-related items, at all.

Not tuna-related, either.

Not that tuna is as good as the nip, but hey, it comes in at a strong, distant second.

MOUSES!

So anyway, Peepers, speakin' of nip...  I mean, tuna, how 'bout gettin' me some lunch?  Some albacore flaked white tuna with a sprig of catnip on the side would be nice.

And while you're at it, COULD YOU BRING ME A SAUCER OF CREAM?

Scratch that.  My mouth loves cream but my tummy...  Not so much.

MOUSES!

But speakin' of cream...

Peepers, you ever wonder how you ended up livin' with a kitty like me?  A kitty who is surely the CREAM of the crop?  Not that I'm a crop, or anythin' like that, but I certainly am the feline equivalent to cream.

Cream rises to the top.

In case you didn't know.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of risin'...

Peepers, how come you slept in this mornin'?  I was waitin' for my brekkies 'bout seven-thirty in the am, and I didn't get those brekkies of mine 'til at least eight.

I DON'T CARE IF IT'S SUNDAY.

Gosh darn it, Peepers, my tummy pays no attention to the days of the week.  You know that.

Unless, of course, the calendar makers out there create a NEW day in order to celebrate the nip.  Like uh... Like Niptuneday.  I would pay attention to that.

Has a nice ring to it, I think.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of rings...

Nope, I got NOTHIN' for rings.

'Cept of course, I CAN RUN RINGS 'ROUND YOU, Peepers.  I can run rings 'round you, for sure.

MOUSES!

But back to this calendar and days of the week thing.  You know what day it is today, Peepers?  You have any idea?  Huh?  HUH?  HUH?

Of course you don't.

MOUSES!

As you know absolutely nothin', Peepers, I shall explain.  Today marks twenty-two weeks of MY havin' been STUCK HERE in this house with YOU.  Yup, twenty-two weeks.  TWENTY-TWO.  That's one hundred and nineteen million, seven hundred and fifty thousand, four hundred seconds in cat time.

Did you hear what I said, Peepers?  I said, I'VE been STUCK HERE WITH YOU for ONE HUNDRED AND NINETEEN MILLION, SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND, FOUR HUNDRED cat seconds.  That's a whole lotta seconds, you know.  A WHOLE LOTTA seconds, for sure.

I deserve a medal of some kind.

Or perhaps a monetary prize.

Oh, I know!  I deserve money to buy myself a new nip mouse.  Or a biff bag!  Or maybe both.  Anythin', really, other than those stupid carnations of yours.

Boy, do they EVER stink.

A rotting tuna would smell better.

A LOT better.

A WHOLE lot better.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

twenty-one weeks

You met my WHAT?

MOUSES!

Peepers, let me get this straight.  While out walkin' the other night, you say you met my...

My...

My DOPPELGANGER?  Is that what you met?

MOUSES!

*scratches behind an ear*

While out on a walk, you say.

*scratches behind the other ear*

MOUSES!

But what were you doin' siftin' through the litter box while out walkin'?

And HOW were you siftin' through the litter box while outside, walkin'?

And how did the litter box end up outside in the first place?  Litter boxes are INDOOR plumbing, Peepers.  INDOORS!

And why...

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

What do you MEAN doppelgangers have nothin' to do with litter boxes and litter?

No, SERIOUSLY, what do you mean?  I always thought...

Uh...

Never mind.

MOUSES!

So what does the word "doppelganger"mean then, Ms Know-it-all Smarty-pants Peepers?  Huh?  HUH?  Betcha don't know.  Betcha don't have a clue.  Betcha...

Oh.

Really?

REALLY?

MOUSES!

So let me get this straight, while you were out walkin' the other night, you happened to come across a kitty that looks exactly like me.

Well that must have been one VERY GOOD LOOKIN' kitty, for sure.  I mean, if he looked exactly like me...

Just how good lookin' was he, Peepers?  Was he REALLY as good lookin' as me?  Was he...

Was he BETTER lookin' than me?

Nah, that would be an impossibility, for sure.

He wasn't better lookin' than me, was he Peepers?  Tell me the truth.  I..  I...  I can handle it.  I can..

NO, DON'T tell me.  Don't give me an answer.  Don't...

Unless, of course, you're gonna tell me I'M the better lookin' kitty.  You can tell me that.  I can handle hearin' that.

MOUSES!

I see...  So he's not nearly as good lookin' as me.

Thought so.

MOUSES!

He doesn't have a locket, you say?  He doesn't have that cute little patch of cream fur I wear 'bout my neck?

And no adorable freckles on the nose, either, huh?

OH...  Well then OF COURSE he's not as good-lookin' as me.

But he does look like me in every other way.

Or so you say.

Hmmm...

You know what, Peepers?  You and I have been cooped up in this here house for a whole twenty-one weeks, now.  For a whole one hundred and fourteen million, three hundred and seven thousand, two hundred seconds in cat time.  AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT?

In all that time, we never knew my doppelganger was living 'round here.

As opposed to livin' in the litter box, but I guess that's not what bein' a doppelganger is really about.

You think this doppelganger business could be some kinda wacky, alternative universe crossover, pandemic-inspired super weird kinda thing?  After all, it is 2020, Peepers.  A kitty never knows what to expect next.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

twenty weeks

Don't get any ideas, Peepers.  DON'T GET ANY IDEAS.  DON'T EVEN THINK 'BOUT BRINGIN' HIM HOME!

I'm tellin' ya...

PEEPS.

MOUSES!

So the peeps and I have been pretty much stuck here together for twenty weeks now, due to this pandemic thingy.

And just so you know, twenty weeks is one hundred and eight million, eight hundred and sixty-four thousand seconds in cat time; and that's a whole LOTTA seconds, for sure.

MOUSES!

THANKFULLY, Peepers has taken to goin' for evenin' walks once more, and I can get her out of my fur for an hour or so every night.  That means 'bout an hour less of hearin' her cry, Sivvers, don't you want to come into the family room for a cuddle?

Did I say cry?

I meant WHINE.

MOUSES!

Now durin' these last twenty weeks, we've had ZERO peeps visitin' the house.  Oh sure, the courier comes every now and then, but he just drops the parcel he's carryin' and runs.  Never gets to step inside the door.

Not that he ever did before.

MOUSES!

But other than the courier, NO ONE has stepped paw even near the house.

In other words, we're not open for visitors.


MOUSES!

But last night...

Last night, Peepers went out for her walk, and...

SHE CAME ACROSS THE BEAR.

Okay, so technically SHE didn't come across the bear.  A neighbour did.  And he cycled up behind her and said, "Just saw a bear three streets down.  Biggest bear I've ever seen."

Or somethin' like that.

MOUSES!

Now YOU'D THINK that after hearin' that, Peepers would turn tail...

Ponytail?

Yeah, that works.

I suppose.

But like I was sayin', you'd think that after hearin' the biggest bear this neighbour has ever seen was just three streets over, Peepers would make a beeline for home.

But...

But my peep...

IS SUPER STUPID, AT BEST.

MOUSES!

Instead of comin' home and inside, Peepers continued along on her merry way, walkin' her usual walk.

Totally OBLIVIOUS of the bear.

Oblivious...  Stupid...  Whatever.

My PURRsonal theory is that with all this stayin' at home for twenty weeks business, Peepers is lonely.  That's she's missin' havin' other peeps over.  That she...

That she figured if she met up with the bear, she'd invite him on over for dinner.

Because as far as we know, bears don't carry the virus.

But that brings me back to what I said earlier:

DON'T EVEN THINK 'BOUT BRINGIN' HIM HOME!

MOUSES!

'Cause when one invites a bear over for dinner, one never really knows WHO that dinner might be.

Or should that be whom?

Whatever.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

nineteen weeks

COMIN' THROUGH!

Ahhh... 

That's better.

Oh hey there, Peepers.  You might wanna go the other way 'round.  I just used the little boys' room over here, and it's uh...

Well...

Little stinky.

MOUSES!

But don't worry, Peepers.  I'll cover that all up.  Yup, I'll scratch the wall here for a good three or four minutes, 'cause you know...

Scratchin' at walls helps cover stuff up.

MOUSES!

YOU DON'T KNOW THERE'S NO KITTY LITTER ON THAT THERE DARNED WALL.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of litter...

Peepers went for groceries on Friday, and do you know what she saw?

I'll tell you what she saw.  I'll tell you what she saw, right now.  She saw a mask on the ground in the parkin' lot, where some stupid peep must have gone and thrown it down.

Can you believe it?

MOUSES!

Oh sure, it was one of those disposable ones, but peeps are supposed to dispose of them in the proper manner.  They're not supposed to be tossin' them out on the ground.

That's litterin', that is.  LITTERIN'.

Masks should be disposed of at home.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of masks...

Peepers made some more biff bags for me.

I know, I know...   I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin', what's the connection between biff bags and masks?

Well...

Well she used the scraps of fabric leftover from makin' a pawful of cotton masks for herself and Peep #2, to make those biff bags for me.

WAIT A MINUTE.

She used the LEFTOVER scraps from the masks to make MY biff bags?

IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE OTHER WAY 'ROUND.

Next time, I'll be sure she uses the scraps of fabric LEFT OVER FROM MY BIFF BAGS to make her stupid ol' masks.

MOUSES!

But I can forgive her, I SUPPOSE, on account of her fillin' those big bags with catnip.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of nip...

When Peepers was leavin' the parkin' lot - the one with the disposable mask recklessly tossed on the ground - she noticed the lineup to get into the human nip store was like twenty gazillion miles long.

Okay, so there were like twelve, thirteen, fourteen people in line, each standin' six paws apart.  She ran out of fingers to count 'em after ten, so an in EXACT count is not to be found.

But I'm tellin' ya, peeps out there must really want their nip to be willin' to stand in a lineup that long.

Good thing I now grow my own.

MOUSES!

And speakin' of growin'...

I've now been cooped up in this house with the peeps for a whole NINETEEN weeks now, seven days longer than this time, last week.

And that's one hundred and three million, four hundred and twenty thousand, eight hundred seconds in cat time.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

eighteen weeks

So for like the past ninety-seven million, nine hundred and seventy-seven thousand, six hundred seconds in cat time, I've been stuck with the peeps' presence day in and day out, and it has literally been drivin' me crazy.

MOUSES!

Literally.  Yes, that's what I said.  LITERALLY.

MOUSES!

But then last Thursday...

Last Thursday, THEY LEFT ME ALL ALONE.

ALL ALONE!

ALL. DAY. LONG.

Can you believe it?

MOUSES!

That's right folks, for about two hundred and fifty-nine thousand and two hundred cat seconds, I WAS LEFT ALL BY MYSELF, ALL ALONE.

Now some of you might be thinkin' that's a good thing.  Come to think of it, there was a time not all that long ago that I, myself, might have thought havin' the peeps out of my fur for most of the day was a good thing, too, but...

But it turns out, bein' left home alone for hours and hours on end is not all it's cracked up to be.

MOUSES!

And why is bein' left home alone all day not all it's cracked up to be, you ask?

Well I'll tell you why.  I'll tell you why right now.

For starters, I had no one waitin' on me paw and paw.  No one tendin' to my daily needs.  No one...

NO ONE TO COMPLAIN TO AT ALL.

And I had plenty of complainin' to do, for sure.  My water dish was not filled hourly with cold water.  My food dishes were not replenished after each bite.  Why...

WHY AT ONE POINT, MY BOWL OF KIBBLE WAS HALF EMPTY.

MOUSES!

And then there was the issue with the door.

I am a cat who NEEDS an automatic door, you see.  You know the kind.  The kind that open right up whenever I want.

Now in the past, the doors to the house have been on a kinda manual automatic system.  The peeps have to open 'em manually, but they do so automatically when I desire.

The system works.

Pretty much.

MOUSES!

But on Thursday, with no peeps around to open the door when I wanted it opened...

I HAD TO SPEND THE ENTIRE DAY IN THE HOUSE.

MOUSES!

And this, my friends, is unacceptable.  This kinda behaviour by the peeps will simply not do.  This is verging on negligence of the most horrible kind.  This...

THIS IS WHAT NIGHTMARES ARE MADE OF, FOR SURE!

Are you sittin' down out there, my pals?  You need to sit down before I tell you the worst of what happened that day.

When they got home...

When they got home...

WHEN THEY GOT HOME...

THEY KISSED ME AND CUDDLED ME AND PRACTICALLY SMOTHERED ME TO DEATH.

Yuck.

Icky.

It was disgusting, my friends.

Odds are they gave me their peep germs, for sure.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

And remember to mask up, too.

seventeen weeks

It's a definite improvement, for sure.

MOUSES!

Oh quit your griping, woman.  I didn't actually say you were ugly.  I SAID, you looked better with the mask on than off.

MOUSES!

And I'd like you know, I HAVE THE AESTHETICS OF A CAT.

You should be so lucky to have the same.  But as a peep, you don't, so you aren't aware 'bout how much better your face looks when half of it is all covered up like that.

MOUSES!

******

And such was the start of my day.

A few hours later...

Peepers, are you still goin' on about this?  Let me tell you some facts.  I've been lookin' at that ol' mug of yours for like uh...  For ninety-two million, five hundred and thirty-four thousand, four hundred seconds.  And let me tell you somethin' else: THAT'S A WHOLE LOT OF SECONDS, for sure.

Even if they are in cat time.

And gettin' a bit of a reprieve by not havin' to look at your WHOLE mug all the time is...

Well...

Well I'll take what I can get, okay?

MOUSES!

Hey Peepers, you ever look at a raccoon?

Of course you have.

Well raccoons are cute, right?

RIGHT?

Right.

And raccoons look like they're wearin' masks.  Now if raccoons are cute while wearin' a mask, maybe you could look cute wearin' one, too.

Not buyin' that, huh?

Well...

Well why aren't you?  You know darn well raccoons are cute.

YOU SHOULD BE SO LUCKY TO BE AS CUTE AS A RACCOON.

MOUSES!

Of course, bein' as cute as a cat would be even better, but let's face facts...

Face facts.

Pun intended?

Oh yeah.

MOUSES!

But let's face facts, your face is NEVER gonna look as cute as mine 'cause uh...

Well...

Well 'cause I'm a cat and you, my dear Peepers, are only a peep.

And peeps...

Well peeps just aren't as cute as us cats.

But like I said before, the mask does help.  As much as anythin' can, I suppose.  Makes you at least tolerable to look at, and...

QUIT YOUR GRIPING, WOMAN!  I AM NOT BEIN' INSULTIN'.  I'M MERELY EXPLAININ' HOW YOUR LOOKS CAN BE IMPROVED WITH A MASK!!!

Boy oh boy, a cat tells his peep the mask she's wearin' to be a good global citizen and keep other peeps safe durin' this pandemic thing looks good on her, and what does a cat get?

Nothin' but grief.

MOUSES!

SO WHAT IF I EXPLAINED IT IN SUCH A WAY AS TO MAKE YOU THINK I WAS SAYIN' YOUR HIDIN' YOUR FACE WAS AN IMPROVEMENT?

I mean, that IS what I meant, but so what if that's the way I said it?  I was still tellin' you, you look good in a mask.

Peeps, they're never satisfied, you know?

Of course you do.

MOUSES!

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

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

And remember to mask up, too.