a hidden world

So you all know about ol' Peepers belongin' to a writers' group, right?  WHY, I don't know.  I mean, I'm the writer in this here family - yeah, me, Seville the Cat -  so why-oh-WHY anyone would want the peep in their writers' group is beyond me.  After all, she's just a peep.

MOUSES!

Well long story short, the topic for this week's meetin' at the peep's writers' group was "A Hidden World."  A Hidden WORLD.  A HIDDEN World.  A world that is... You know...  Hidden.

Well the peep, bein' a peep, couldn't think of a thing to write about that.

Figures.

MOUSES!

NOW do you see why they should have invited ME to join that there group and not the peep?

MOUSES!  

So anyway...

So anyway, to make an even longer story even shorter, I took the peep's face in my two front paws and I said, "Peepers, don't you fret.  I, Seville the Cat, am on the case.  I'll write somethin' for you to take to your group.  In other words, I'll do your homework for you."

And of course, this came as a great relief to the peep.

MOUSES!

So I sat down at the computer and began to type.

Okay, so I sat down at the computer and thought 'bout all the hidden worlds in the world...   In the galaxy?  Universe?  Whatever.  So anyway, I thought about all those hidden worlds, wherever they might be, and decided to write 'bout somethin' a little closer to home.

I decided to write about...

Well...

Well you ever hear tell 'bout fleas, my friends?  Yeah, that's what I said: FLEAS.

MOUSES!

Not that I have fleas, or anythin' like that.  No sirree, I get the dab on the back of my neck once a month durin' flea season so I, Seville the Cat, am a flea-free cat, but I can still write 'bout the hidden world of fleas.

Their world - ie, the world of fleas - is hidden on account of them spendin' their lives hiding 'mongst the hairs of us cats - ALTHOUGH NOT MINE, 'cause like I said, I don't have fleas - and dogs and mice and the like.  Hidden from the eyes of peeps.

Yeah, that's where the "hidden" part comes in.  You know, on account of peeps not SEEIN' the fleas.

To be perfectly honest, we cats don't see 'em either.  The fleas, I mean.  We ALWAYS see the peeps.  But boy-oh-boy can one ever feel 'em.  I mean, the fleas.

Not that I would know 'bout that on account of my not havin' any fleas, like I said before, but cats and dogs and stuff who do have 'em, never see 'em either, for they are HIDDEN, you see.  And again, I'm talkin' about the fleas.

MOUSES!

But my gosh, have I ever heard tales of those fleas and their kind, goin' about their business in their world hidden to peeps.

You've heard of a flea circus, my friends?  It's a real thing, you know.  That's a fact.

Yup, there are fleas livin' their lives on the backs of dogs and cats, entirely hidden from the world, entertain' other fleas at their flea circuses and things.  Jumpin' through hoops, and walkin' across dog hair tight ropes, and the like.  Tossin' each other into the air, and hopin' against hope some flea will catch 'em on their way down.

Once I heard tell of a clown flea.  Yup, he was a clown, and he was a flea.  Who knew they made clown shoes in that size?

MOUSES!

But the hidden world of fleas is not all circuses and clowns wearin' flea-sized clown shoes and stuff.  Nope, they have flea tea parties, too.  Fancy-schmancy tea parties, I've heard.  They get dressed up  for 'em and everythin', with big ol' hats and hoop skirts and stuff.  The lady fleas even wear high-heeled shoes.

Or so I've been told.

MOUSES!

So to all the cats and dogs out there who don't get their monthly dabs, if you think you feel a flea bitin' you, it might just be the lady fleas attending a tea party on your back, walkin' about in stiletto heels, in the hidden world of fleas.

'Cause let's face facts here, my friends.  Why would a bunch of fleas livin' their lives TOTALLY HIDDEN from the big world out there, wanna bite you on your back?  That would bring attention to themselves, which is not a good way to remain hidden.

YOU GOT A BETTER ANSWER FOR THAT?

Of course you don't.

MOUSES!

OH PEEPERS...  Peepers, I've got your assignment all ready for you to take to your writers' group tomorrow afternoon.  It's all about the hidden world of fleas.

I'll send you my bill in the mornin'.

MOUSES!

lettin' go

Perhaps you heard how the first peep joined this writing group thing-a-ma-gig, a while back.  Well let me tell you, there has been nothin' but trouble, ever since.

The thing is, Peep #1 is a lousy writer.  Oh yeah, lousy as lousy can be. My gosh, the woman couldn't write her way out of the telephone directory. Why, she couldn't write her way out of the yellow pages, either. MOUSES!

Because as we all know, I, Seville the Cat, am the writer in this here family, for sure.  MOUSES!

So anyway, the other day, the peep was struggling and struggling AND STRUGGLING with her writin; assignment.  The topic was "letting go," and for the life of her, she couldn't come up with a thing.

That's when I said to her, "Peepers, what you need to do is let go and let ME write that assignment for you.  MOUSES!"

Well it didn't take much convincin'.  Nope, before I knew it, my claws were goin' clickety clack on the computer keyboard, just like a train makin' its way along a railway track, and I was doin' the peep's homework for her.

Now THAT'S interestin'...   A dog may eat your homework, but a cat will do it for you.  MOUSES!

So sit back, put your paws up, and enjoy the followin' after-school special about lettin' go.  I mean, sharin'.  I mean...  whatever.  MOUSES!

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

“I said, let go.”

“No way, Sivvers.  You let go.”

“No YOU let go, Rushy!”

“Uh-uh.  YOU."

“Listen here, you long-haired marmie freak, LET GO OF MY NIP MOUSE THIS INSTANT.  MOUSES!”

“No way, Seville.  I’m not letting go for anything.”

“You’ll let go if I tell you to.  You’ll let go if it’s the last thing I ever tell you to do.  RUSHTON, LET GO!!!”

“I’m not letting go Seville.  Not even if Peep #1 comes in here and tells me to.”

“BOYS, LET GO OF THAT NIP MOUSE.”

“Now you’ve done it, Rushy.  But I’m still not lettin’ go.  I’m pretty sure I can spin this so that you take the blame.  What the mouses?  What am I sayin’?  Of course I can spin this so that you take the blame.  I, Seville the Cat, can spin like no other cat has ever spun before.  Why, I…”

“BOYS, DON’T MAKE ME TELL YOU AGAIN.”

“Hear that, Sivvers?  Peep #1 says you have to let go.”

“Not what I heard, bro.  I heard Peep #1 say YOU had to let go.  Now be a good long-haired marmie freak, and let go of my nip mouse right now.”

“You’re a marmie, too.”

“Yeah, but my fur is short.  I’m not a freak.”

“Don’t call me a freak, Seville!  Peep #1 said you’re not allowed to call me that.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t hear her say it, and anythin' I don’t hear with my own two ears doesn’t count, so just let go of my nip mouse and…”

RRRRRRRIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPP!!!!!

“BOYS!  WHAT DID I TELL YOU WOULD HAPPEN IF YOU FOUGHT OVER YOUR NIP MICE LIKE THAT?”

“Now look what you’ve done, Rushy.”

“What I did?  What YOU did, you mean.”

“Rushton, you should have let go of my nip mouse when I told you to.”

“You mean YOU should have let go of MY nip mouse when I told you to.”

“LONG-HAIRED MARMIE FREAK!”

“Peep #1 told you not to call me that!”

“LONG-HAIRED MARMIE FREAK!”

“Sivvers... she said not to do that.”

“Call you long-haired?”

“No, call me a freak.”

“Now you want me to call you a freak, Rushton?  Well let me oblige by..”

“Seville, that’s mean.  You’re being mean.”

“Peepers, Rushton tore my nip mouse in half.”

“Seville, I saw what happened.  You and Rushton both tore that nip mouse in half, together.  That’s right, you did it together.  And do you know why?”

“Because Rushton wouldn’t let go?”

“No Seville, because neither one of you would let go.  You were both so insistent upon winning, you’ve ruined that nip mouse for everyone.”

“Yeah, well he wouldn’t let go first.”

“And you wouldn’t let go second, Seville!”

“Yeah, well you still should have let go when I told you to, Rushy.”

“FOR PETE’S SAKE, BOYS, JUST LET IT GO!”

“FINE.”

“Fine.”

“Long-haired marmie freak!”

“BOYS!!!”

“Mouses, Peepers.  You don’t have to yell.  Calm down.  Take a deep breath. You REALLY need to learn how to let things go.”

And by the way, if you'd like to listen in our rehearsal for my little after-school special, you can do so on SoundCloud, right here...  "lettin' go"