my gosh, that was tirin'

Well THAT was exhaustin', for sure.

MOUSES!

Oh my mouses, my pals, I've never felt so tired in all my nine lives.  What a workout, I had!  I'm gonna have to go take a nap.  A really nice long one, too.

MOUSES!

So yesterday, Peepers had a few errands to run.  Bank, post office, grocery store for oranges and bird seed...  Silly errand stuff like that.

WELL!

Well, things didn't work out as planned.

MOUSES!

Out the door, Peepers went.  Into the car - after clearin' off the snow from the day before, she did crawl.  Key in ignition.  Engine turned on.  Backin' up she did start, and then...

And then...

And then stuck in the driveway, she was.

MOUSES!

Yup, she managed to back out a few feet, but then all of a sudden...

All of a sudden...

All of a sudden, everythin' stopped.

Kinda.

Well not really.

MOUSES!

The car wasn't movin' but the front passenger-side tire was a-spinnin'.  Spinnin' like a neutron star on steroids, for sure.

MOUSES!

So shovel in tow, Peepers cleared away more snow.  Chipped away at the ice she thought might be the problem.  Then spread half a bag of kitty litter around ALL FOUR tires.

Nothin'.  Nothin' but spinnin' tires, she did have.

More shovellin' ensued.  More chippin' at ice.  Then shovellin' and chippin' again.

Still nothin'

MOUSES!

In and out of that car, ol' Peepers went.  She tried movin' the car so many times, I lost count.  And I was countin' with ALL FOUR of my paws!

MOUSES!

Finally, she gave up, and walked down to get the mail.  Then returned to try all over again.

I don't know for how long Peepers was out there.  An hour?  Probably two.  And then, one last try and miraculously, she got that car to move.

Of course, by then, the bank and post office had both closed.  Peepers did, however, manage to go buy bird seed and oranges, along with some other stupid things.

MOUSES!

Peepers didn't return until well after dark, when she found me sound asleep in one of my favourite sleepin' spots.  My back and neck were so sore, havin' had to crane my neck in weird positions in order to see her, from where I had sat, earlier, on the windowsill.  I was tired and achy all over from watchin' her work with that shovel.  Even my tail was sore from thumpin' it on the wall in aggravation!

Not to mention the sheer exhaustion I felt from all the laughin' I did.

Hmmm...  Perhaps I SHOULDN'T mention the laughin' bit.

MOUSES!

So that was yesterday, my pals, and today...

Well, today...

Today, she needs to go back out to run the errands she didn't get done, yesterday, so I had best rest up the rest of this mornin'...

...IN CASE I'M IN FOR ANOTHER TERRIBLY EXHAUSIN' AFTERNOON.

Methinks we need to ship some more of this wintry weather, southward.

I hear snow golf is gonna be the next big thing.

MOUSES!

let's talk

Sweaters.  Let's talk sweaters, my friends.  Let's. Talk. Sweaters.

MOUSES!

There are all sorts of sweaters out there, I think.  Pink sweaters, blue sweaters, purple sweaters, cream... 

Cream...

Nothin' beats a good spot of cream.  Mmmm.

But I digress.

MOUSES!

Point is, there are all sorts of colours when it comes to sweaters.

And there are sweaters of all different weights, too.  There are heavy sweaters for cold weather, light sweaters for warm, and a whole whack of different weights of sweaters, for in between.

And then there are sizes.  There are big sweaters.  Like really big sweaters.  Like the kinda sweaters that are meant to be all baggy and whatnot.  Boyfriend sweaters, is what they're sometimes called.  And boy-oh-boy are boyfriend sweaters ever big.

My gosh, a kitty could get lost in one of those.

MOUSES!

And there are not-so-big sweaters, too.  Little sweaters.  Sweaters with short sleeves.  Sweaters with NO sleeves.  And sweaters with short...  Well...  Well, they're just short.  Cropped is what they sometimes say.

MOUSES!

But here's the thing, my dear friends.  Here. Is. The. Thing.  I, Seville the Cat, am not a sweater-wearin' kinda cat.  Nope, I'm not a sweater wearin' kinda cat, at all.  Not big sweaters or heavy sweaters or light ones or small.  I don't wear 'em in summer, or winter, or even the fall.

MOUSES!

Yes, I do know there are cats out there who like wearin' a sweater or two.  Not at the same time, of course, but they might like to have a few options in their closet, dependin' on the weather or their mood.  But like I said, I, Seville the Cat, am NOT one of those cats.  I am not a sweater wearin' kinda guy.

Oh sure, I like sleepin' ON a sweater.

On.  I said, ON.  If Peepers should be so foolish as to leave a sweater lyin' on a bed or a chair, and I should happen to come across it, lyin' there...

Well let's just say, that sweater is gonna be wearin' my furs.

But I am NOT - I repeat, NOT - gonna be wearin' the sweater.

MOUSES!

So you can imagine my distress when I found Peepers knittin' a sweater that looked kinda...

Well...

Are you sittin' down, my friends?  Are you sittin' down before you fall?

That sweater she was knittin' looked cat sized, to me.

MOUSES!

I was in shock, I tell you.  SHOCK!  I thought to myself, that ol' peep of mine is thinkin' she's gonna put that sweater on me.

AND I WAS HAVIN' NONE OF THAT.

So I volunteered Saffron.

What else would a smart kitty do?

MOUSES!

But as it turned out, it was just one of those shorter, cropped kinda sweaters she was makin', and not meant for a cat, at all.

But it sure did feel like a really close call.

'Cause like I said, I, Seville the Cat, am NOT a sweater-wearin' kinda guy.  Doesn't matter how cold it might be, I prefer to go nekkid.

MOUSES!

And if my paws should happen to get chilly whilst outdoors, I can always come inside and warm 'em up on the peep.  You should hear how she squeals with delight when I do that sorta thing.

Delight...  Pain and hock...  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.

quit your gripin'

Oh quit your griping, woman, would ya?

MOUSES!

I said, quit your gripin'.

Woman.

Yeah, I actually said, quit your gripin', WOMAN.  And a good ol' MOUSES! followed that.

MOUSES!

I SAID, QUIT YOUR GRIPIN'!  Quit your gripin', woman.

MOUSES!

Well I'm sure you were gripin' about somethin', Peepers.  Not anythin' important, mind you.  Not anythin' worth gripin' about, at all.  But in your mind, I'm assumin' there was somethin' about which to gripe.  Or at least so you thought.  Well that's what I'm assumin', you see.

MOUSES!

Holdie on there, ol' peep of mine.  I never once said anythin' about my knowin' about what you were gripin'.

The power goin' out this mornin' - AGAIN - causin' you to not be able to make a hot pot of tea, first thing?

No...  No, I don't think you were gripin' about that.

The big white splotch you noticed on the car today left by some birdie who did a fly by while poopin'?

No...  No, I don't think you were gripin' about that, either.

The weather man sayin' tonight is gonna be cold as all get out and talking 'bout snow tomorrow, provin' ME right - of course - when I told you not to put away the snow shovels?

No...  No, I don't think you were gripin' about that, either.

To tell you the truth, Peepers, I have no idea about what you were gripin'.

Although I KNOW you were gripin' about somethin' - well, in your mind, anyway, no matter how misguided your reasoning may have been - on account of your often gripin' about this and that and whatnot and...

Oh.

Wait a minute...

Ummm...  Peepers?  Never mind.  Just forget about this conversation, okay?

Yeah, that's what I said: never mind 'bout my gripin' about your gripin'.

Well you see...  Truth be told...  Hehehe...  Uh...  It's kinda funny, actually.  Umm...

Well you see...

Well you see, Saffy has informed me that you were actually griping 'bout MY griping 'bout when you rushed us to make up our minds 'bout goin' outside this mornin', on account of it bein' chilly outside and the heat bein' off inside - due to the power outage, of course - and your attempt to keep the warm air in and the cold air out, and not wantin' to leave the door open for fifteen or twenty minutes while we made up our minds 'bout whether or not we wanted to go outside in the first place.

Which we didn't.

Go outside, I mean.

BUT THE THING IS THOUGH, KITTIES DECIDIN' WHETHER THEY WANT TO BE INSIDE OR OUT SHOULD NEVER BE RUSHED.

SO OF COURSE, I, SEVILLE THE CAT, HAD A VERY GOOD REASON TO GRIPE.

So quit your griping 'bout MY gripin', woman.

I'd say it was unbecoming of a peep but to be perfectly honest, gripin' for no good reason is a very peeperly thing to do.

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.

ninety-nine weeks

I think I might have figured it out.

Yup, I  really think I've got it figured out.

Oh yeah, I'VE GOT IT ALL FIGURED OUT, for sure.

MOUSES!

Okay, so here's the thing.  Another weekend has come and almost gone and, like clockwork, so has another storm.  It's Friday, you say?  Then it's STORM DAY, as well!  The weekend is here?  So is another storm!  It's high time we change all calendars sold in Nova Scotia to read: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and last but not least, STORMDAY, for sure.

MOUSES!

But that's not the part I figured out.

'Cause, you know, that much was obvious.  A kitten could see it.  Perhaps even a peep.

Now what I did figure out, what I'm bloggin' about today, is WHY we're gettin' these stupidy-dupity storms.

At first I thought it was somethin' Peepers did.  That tweet she sent to Mother Nature a while back was vergin' on rude.  I thought for sure these storms were one hundred percent the responsibility of my peep.

But then I realised...

Then I realised, Peepers doesn't have nearly enough influence with Mother Nature to pull this kinda thing off.

It's not like she's a cat, you see.

Or in other words, ME.

MOUSES!

So then I thought...

Then I thought, while I've been stuck here in this house for the last five hundred and thirty-eight million, eight hundred and seventy-six thousand, eight hundred cat seconds durin' this ol' pandemic thing, peeps all 'round the province have been stuck in their houses with other peeps, for the same.  And although my bein' stuck here for five hundred and thirty-eight million, eight hundred and seventy-six thousand, eight hundred cat seconds is about as bad as it can get.

You know, on account of with whom I am stuck.

Well it might be even worse for some peeps.

I mean, as a cat, I have the patience of a saint.  The personality, too!  But peeps?  Well peeps just don't have these thoughtful, considerate, and genteel characteristics; so...

So what I'm tryin' to say is, peeps bein' stuck for five hundred and thirty-eight million, eight hundred and seventy-six thousand, eight hundred cat seconds with other peeps...  Well that might seem unbearable, for sure.

Especially when you take into account the personalities of some peeps.

MOUSES!

And then I realised, there are peeps out there itchin' to stop followin' public health protocols and the like.

And then I thought, when are they MOST LIKELY to behave badly in public, breakin' those public health protocols that are in place?

ON THE WEEKEND, OF COURSE.

DUH.

So these here storms are simply Mother Nature's way of makin' sure peeps who don't have the sense to stay home when they can durin' a pandemic, STAY HOME.

And there I was, thinkin' Mother Nature had a mean streak in her.  Silly me, she's merely thinkin' of the welfare of peeps.

MOUSES!

On the other paw, she might just be real mean.

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.

ninety-six weeks

And here's how it all went down:

MOUSES!

Week before last - Friday, I do believe - we had a big snowstorm.  Not as big as the one two days ago, but it was a pretty big one, for sure.  At this point, Saffy Saffron Saffers was still livin' outside.

Now to be honest, I can't remember if it was Thursday night or Friday night 'cause it's all kind of a blur.  I mean, it feels like every time I turn around, there's a snowfall warnin' on the go this year.  But it was dark, the temperature was hoverin' around zero, and it was startin' to snow.  Peepers had put food out for Saffron on the veranda just like she has multiple times every day for the past year and a half.  She could see from the front door that the food was untouched but thought maybe - just MAYBE - Saffron was in the box in the corner of the veranda.  The box the peep had set up just for him.

So she opened the front door, and...

Yup, sure enough, Saffron was in his box, sittin'...

No, lyin'.

Well...

Well you know how we cats sometimes sit or lie on our tummies, lookin' like we're a furry ol' loaf of bread?  Well Saffron was sittin' like that.

Sittin'...  Lyin'...  Whatever.

MOUSES!

Peepers stepped outside and the wind was howlin' and blowin' to no end.  Snow was driftin' onto the veranda and even though Saffron's box was in the most protected spot the veranda has to offer, snow was landin' on Saffy's back.

And Saffron, hearin' the peep come outside, looked up at her with the most pathetic and sorrowful expression.  He looked absolutely miserable.  The most miserable Peepers has ever seen a cat look.

Peepers, wearin' nothin' but her jammies and some flippity-floppity sandals, crept through the layer of snow toward Saffron in the box.

Now normally, Saffron would never let the peep near him when he was in a box.  Not on a chair, either.  It's one thing for Saffron to let Peepers pick him up when he goes to her, but quite another when it's the other way around.  Plus, Saffy's box was in the corner so I bet seein' a peep comin' at him would make him feel trapped and cornered - pun intended - and all that, so seein' Peepers approachin' would be his cue to run like the dickens, for sure.

Normally.

But that night, with the snow landin' on his back and with his bein' miserable as all get out, Saffron allowed Peepers to approach.

Slowly but surely, Peepers got closer and closer 'til she was able to bend down and touch Saffron's back.  And then she picked him right up!  She held Saffron close to her jammies - which by now were gettin' all snowy just like Saffron's fur coat - as tightly as she dared, spoke softly, and carried Saffron inside.

And Saffron really must have been super miserable - as miserable as he looked - 'cause let me tell you, he's normally a squirmy wormy when picked up, but that night he didn't squirm or worm, not even an inch.

Once Peepers was inside, she lifted her right leg, and...

NO, she didn't pee.  What do you think she is, a dog?

MOUSES!

No, Peepers, lifted her right leg and kicked behind, slammin' the front door shut.  I swear, reverberations were felt right thru the house.  But Saffy?  Well Saffy was inside.

As soon as Saffron realised what had happened, feelin' miserable or not, he started to sing the song of our people.

I mean, cats.

Whatever.

So Saffy started to howl although not nearly as much as I expected.  And he didn't get all crazed like I thought he would, either.

You know, like he did that one time in the summer when he accidentally ended up locked inside.  The cat literally climbed the walls.  Brought down two screens in the sunroom, too.

MOUSES!

Instead of actin' like a crazy cat, Saffron ran into the livin' room and crawled under the trolley, whatever a trolley is when it's at home, and that's where he spent the night.  Spent the next day there, too.

MOUSES!

But by Saturday evenin', he was allowin' the peep to reach under the trolley, and...

Well to tell you the truth, there was some fizzin' at first; and then later when Peepers reached in, he reached out, in kind.  After that Peepers was sportin' a bandage on her left paw.  But by Saturday night, he was still curled up under the trolley, although by then there were bits peekin' out.

And then before we knew it, he was out from under the trolley, entirely!

And that is the story of how Saffron came...

Came...  Caught and brought in kinda against his will...  WHATEVER.

Inside.

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.

that way

He went that way, Peepers.  That way!

No, not that way.  THAT way.

For mousin' out loud, Peepers, watch the tip of my tail.  He. Went. THAT. Way.  That way.  THAT way!

MOUSES!

*sighs*  I'm tellin' ya, some cats' peeps.

MOUSES!

Peepers, he's under the chair.

No, he's under the love seat.

Now he's under the other chair!

MOUSES!

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

Earlier today...

James is there!  Peepers, James is out on the veranda!  He's eatin' kibble but now that he's here, you can put out some of the fanciest of the feasts for him.  Better hurry though 'cause he's halfway through that bowl of kibble and I'm not sure how long he'll stay after he eats.

Hurry up, Peepers!  HURRY UP!  You need to get James' soft fuds out for him NOW.  HURRY!

But be sure to close the front door behind you, Peepers.  We don't want Saffy Saffron Saffers gettin' out now, do we.  No matter how hurried you are, make sure that door is shut tight.

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

And even before that...

I'll keep an eye out for James for you, Peepers.  Now that it's warmed up to -11C, I'm sure he'll be around for brekkies.  Best just leave out a bowl of kibble 'til we see him, though.  You know, 'cause soft fuds will freeze solid in this cold weather.

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

And now back to the present.

No, not present as in prezzies, although truth be told, I could do with a prezzie after all this palaver, for sure.

MOUSES!

Peepers, I said, THAT way.  Remember how I told you to watch the tip of my tail?

Oh, I know!  Peepers, go inside and grab the treat bag.  I bet ol' Saffron will come runnin' if he sees the ol' bag of treats.  You know what a treatmeister Saffron is.  And as soon as he's close enough, GRAB HIM.  We need to get that cat back inside.

MOUSES!

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

After returning with the treats...

He's 'round the corner, now, Peepers.  Think he chased James into the backyard.  Bet they're both under the deck.  Not sure if a bag of treats will be enough.  You have any of that chicken broth you made for us cats last night?  Saffron's no fool.  For chicken soup, he'll come runnin', for sure.

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

Finally, after a good half hour...

Peepers opens the door, saucer of chicken broth in paw.

I mean, hand.

Hand...  Paw....  Whatever.

MOUSES!

AND SAFFRON IS WAITING ON THE DOORSTEP AND COMES RUNNING INSIDE.

Whew.

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.

ninety-five weeks

Hey ho, Sivvers the Cat here, bringin' you the latest news from snowy Nova Scotia.  And boy-oh-boy do I have big news for you today.

MOUSES!

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

NO, I am not tellin' my readers all about the snow.  I mean, yeah, that foot or more of snow we had Friday is kinda big news, but it's OLD news, for sure.  All the other news stations have reported on it by now.

MOUSES!

NO, I'm am not tellin' my readers all about how some kind neighbour came and shovelled out the end of the driveway after the county plough dumped a whole mountain down there after our snowplough guy came.  I don't know all the details, you see, on account of my not knowin' which neighbour was so kind.  That story will have to wait until I've done further investigation.  I, Seville the Cat, don't wanna do a shoddy story filled with more holes than Swiss cheese.

This isn't VULPES NEWS, you know.

Cheese...

Mmmm...

MOUSES!

Are you still babblin' there, Peepers?  Is that you I hear?  What on earth are you babblin' on about NOW?

*sighs*

No, my big news is not about how we've been in this here pandemic now for ninety-five weeks.  Nor is it about the fact that ninety-five weeks equates to five hundred and seventeen million, one hundred and four thousand cat seconds.  NOR is my news about how hard bein' stuck here with you and Peep #2 for that long, is on ME.

My readers already know all 'bout that, you see.

MOUSES!

Just be quiet for a moment there, Peepers, will you?

I said, BE QUIET!

Which you would have heard had you not been pesterin' me with stupid questions.

MOUSES!

Okay everybody, here it is...

My big news is...

Are you sittin' down?

Are you listenin'?

Saffron is in.

AND I HAVE A NEW BROTHER.

With a a name more suited to an orange girl kitty than a Russian Blue boy, but you know my peep: she's pretty much useless when it comes to these things.

Details to follow, Wednesday.

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.

eighty-nine weeks

*knock knock*

Go away, old man.  WE DON'T WANT ANY.

*knock knock*

I said, GO AWAY!

*knock knock*

What are you, hard of hearin'?  Are you so hard of hearin' you can't hear me yellin' at the top of my lungs?  I'm sayin'...  NO, I'M YELLIN', GO AWAY!!!

Besides, we're still social distancing 'round here.  Keepin' our social circles small, and always havin' six paws between ourselves and strangers.

Strangers like YOU.

MOUSES!

*KNOCK KNOCK*

Oh for mousin' out loud, no matter how much I yell at him, Old Man Winter is still knockin' on my door.

MOUSES!

Lookie here Mr Winter, you old fool, we're not interested.  It's bad enough that I've been stuck here with two good-for-nothin' peeps for the past four hundred and eighty-four million, four hundred and forty-four thousand, eight hundred cat seconds; I'M CERTAINLY NOT plannin' on bein' stuck here with 'em, with snow.  Keep your snow and your cold and your other winter-related paraphernalia to yourself, you hear?

*knock knock*

I said, YOU HEAR?

*knock knock*

Of course you don't.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

It's like I'm livin' in some kinda bad knock knock joke.

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.

forty-five weeks

So forty-five weeks is the same as...

Carry the one.

Carry that other one.

Oops!  That was just a speck of dirt and not a one.  Heeheeheeheehee...

Then multiply it all by...

GOT IT!  Forty-five weeks is the same as two hundred and forty-four million, nine hundred and forty-four thousand cat seconds.

MOUSES!

So as of today, I've been stuck here in this ol' house with the peeps for TWO HUNDRED AND FORTY-FOUR MILLION, NINE HUNDRED AND FORTY-FOUR THOUSAND CAT SECONDS

MOUSES!

Well, I suppose it could be worse.

NOT.

MOUSES!

And today, not only am I stuck in the house with the peeps, but the peeps are also stuck here with me, and...

Wait a minute.

PEEPERS!  JUST WHAT THE MOUSES DID YOU MEAN WHEN YOU SAID YOU WERE STUCK IN HERE WITH ME?

PEEPERS, BEIN' STUCK HERE WITH ME IS A PRIVILEGE!  YOU SHOULD BE SO LUCKY AS TO BE STUCK HERE WITH ME ALL THE TIME.  LUCKY!  LUCKY, I TELL YOU.  LUCKY!  YOU KNOW HOW MANY PEEPS OUT THERE WOULD LOVE TO BE STUCK IN A HOUSE WITH A CAT LIKE ME?

AND WHEN I SAY STUCK, I ACTUALLY MEAN HONOURED.

MOUSES!

Boy-oh-boy, some peeps.

Hmph.

I'm thinkin' Peepers is just in a foul mood on account of the weatherpeeps sayin' we were only gonna get a couple centimetres of snow overnight, but appear to have gotten their centimetres confused with their feet.  I mean, paws.  NO, I definitely mean feet.

MOUSES!

Yup, that's right, we had a major snowfall out there.  White stuff...  EVERYWHERE.  And before Peepers can go to the store or anywhere else, she'll have to shovel us out.

AND SHE JUST SHOVELLED, YESTERDAY!

I, on the other paw, am spendin' the day inside.

Away from the snow.

Outta the cold.

Even if I DO have to spend it with the peeps.

MOUSES!

*grins*

But I'm gonna suggest to Peepers that she head out there with the shovel, NOW.  More time she spends shovellin', the LESS time I'll have to spend with her here inside the house, pesterin' and annoyin' me.

Like the pesterin' and annoyin' peep that she is.

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.

storm treats

BREAKING NEWS...

*sound of keyboard, rattling*

We interrupt our current programming for the following breaking news....

THERE'S A STORM A-COMIN', FOR SURE.

MOUSES!

On this BEAUTIFUL sunny Saturday, Nova Scotian peeps are linin' up in grocery stores as I speak, preparing for tomorrow's winter storm.  The storm will be a snow - ice - rain event, accompanied by strong winds.  In other words, IT'S GONNA BE ONE BIG OL' ICY MESS.  Expect floodin' due to heavy rain and frozen ground.  PREPARE NOW.  Make sure your cars are gassed up, and stock up on necessities.  Expect shortages of bottled water, milk, bread, and of course, storm chips.

What the mouses?

Who the mouses wrote this moused-up script?

Storm chips?  STORM chips?  What weird kinda chips are those?

MOUSES!

Excuse me for a moment, my listeners, while I go check with the head news writin' peep.

Okay, I'm back.

Apparently, it was not a typo.  Nope, not a typo at all.  APPARENTLY, here in Nova Scotia, storm chips really do exist.

Can you believe it?

MOUSES!

And yes, stores may run out.

APPARENTLY, storm chips are the kinda potato chips one buys to eat durin' a storm.  They're no different from non storm day chips.  The only difference is when one plans to eat 'em.

MOUSES!

So anyway...

So anyway, as a cat, I don't eat stupid ol' chips.

MOUSES!

What I wanna know is, are peeps stockin' up on the IMPORTANT things in life, like...

Well...

Well like cat food, catnip, treats, kitty litter, additional catnip, and of course, more treats.

No self-respectin' kitty would be waitin' in line with a cart load of bread and storm chips.  No self-respectin' kitty would even dream of doin' such a thing.

And do you know why?

Well I'll TELL you why.

'Cause all self-respectin' kitties know what IS important, and what's not.  And self-respectin' kitties KNOW, no one needs to be eatin' chips durin' a storm.

No way.

No how.

Just...  NO.

Any self-respectin' kitty can tell you that what's needed the most during storms are cat food, catnip, treats, kitty litter, additional catnip, and of course, more treats.

Although not necessarily in that order.

MOUSES!

So there you have it, folks.  BE PREPARED for this weekend's winter storm.  Make sure you're stocked up with the most essential necessities like...  Treats.

STOCK UP ON STORM TREATS, NOW.

And you'd better hurry before stores run out.

MOUSES!

snow

Hmmph!  Now who the mouses thought this would be a good idea?  I mean, who?  WHO? WHO?

Oh hello there, my friends.  How are ya? You caught me...

No, you did not catch me callin' for owls although truth be told, I can totally see how you might be thinkin' that.  You know, with my callin' out who and stuff.

Pardon me?  What's that?  Am I...?

No, I'm not callin' to peeps livin' in Whoville, either.

Truth be told, I'm just sittin' here, starin' out my office window.  Starin' and starin' and starin', and noticin' that even with all my starin', ALL I CAN SEE IS SNOW.

That's right, my friends, Mother Nature has gone and...

OH YEAH....  That's the answer.  You know, the answer to my question.  My question 'bout who the mouses thought dumpin' two feet of snow all over my yard was a good idea.  It was Mother Nature, that's who.

But it most definitely was NOT a good idea.  MOUSES!

There should be a law or somethin'.  Really, there should.  No one's mother should be dumpin' snow like that in anyone's yard.  MOUSES!

You ever think to yourself, you should just go smacky-paw somebody?  Smacky-paw 'em in the face, just because?  Maybe 'cause they looked at you funny?  Or maybe 'cause they stole your nip mouse or somethin'?

Yeah, well that's what I'd like to do that natural mother, for sure.  MOUSES!

Why, a kitty needs a pair of snowshoes just to get around out there.  MOUSES!

Well technically, two pair, but that is neither here nor there  Or even hare.

Hare... Snow...  Snowshoe hares...  Get it?  Hehehehee...

But seriously folks, if a kitty were to try walkin' around in my yard right now, a kitty would sink right down into two feet of snow.  Well technically, the kitty would probably just sink down to his tummy, and then kind of hang there, floatin' on the snow, in mid-air.  Or mid-hare!  HAHA!

Oh my mouses, I'm KILLIN' it here!

And speakin' of hares, have you seen Peep #1's HAIR?

After gettin' all bundled up to do some shovellin' through all of that snow yesterday, the first peep is sportin' a serious case of hat head, for sure.  And let me tell you somethin', IT IS NOT A PRETTY SIGHT. MOUSES!

What's that, Peepers?  What am I tellin' everyone? What am I sayin' about your hair?

Nothin'.

Anyway...

Back to that snow.  It's everywhere.  I've looked out every single window, both upstairs and down.  I've even had the peeps openin' doors for me.  Both front and back.  Yup, I had 'em open 'em up, multiple times.  And each and every time, everywhere, all there was, was snow.  Snow!  Up, down, all around...  SNOW.  There's white stuff as far as the eye can see.

I spy with my little eye, somethin' that is white.

And the answer would be... MY ENTIRE YARD.  MOUSES!

Of course, it's not as bad as it was on Monday.  At least today there's some sky.

The thing is, peeps don't realize just how annoyin' all this snow is for kitties like me.  I mean, sometimes, EVEN IN WINTER, I like to do garden patrols and whatnot.  But in this snow, garden patrols are out of the question, for sure.  Oh yeah, I could patrol along one of those paths with the two or three foot walls of snow, the peep has dug.  Yeah, I could do that.  I could, I suppose... But...

BUT THEY'RE JUST TOO DARNED SCARY!  You can't see anywhere but ahead.  You never know who you might meet up with in one of 'em, and that, my friends, is for sure.

And even more to the point, none of 'em go where I wanna go.

I told the peep, yesterday.  I told her, "Oh Peepers, dig me a path, please, all around the garden out back."

Well Peep #1 looked at me like I was crazy or somethin'.  Like I was the one goin' around in public with that case of hat head.  MOUSES!

And then, get this.  She said, "If you want a path all the way out there, Seville, you need to dig it yourself."

Yeah, she said it just like that.  I half expected a na-na-na-na-na-na at the end.

Well let me tell you, my friends, I nearly fainted right there on the spot. "Are you crazy or somethin', woman?" I said.  "I, Seville the Cat, am a cat, and shovellin' is beneath me, for sure. MOUSES!"

Next thing I knew, she was out the door, and the path I requested has not yet been dug.  And I'm kind of thinkin' it's not in the works, either.  MOUSES!