Dweezil sat alone on New Year's Eve staring into the file. Squig was out with Trixie and his mother and Annabelle were in the kitchen getting the pans and wooden spoons ready to bang at midnight. But it was his habit to sit quietly for a few hours, reflecting on the old year and making plans for the one to come. Next year he would be eight and that meant middle aged and what did he have to show for it, nothing. He could just envision the years as they rolled on past.
First, he would be the best man at Squig's wedding and then before he knew it, he would be walking Annabelle down the aisle at her wedding. And just where would that leave him? A joke, a middle aged cat who lived with his mother, no relationship, no business, no nothing. He fought the urge to cry or sink into despair. This town had absolutely nothing for him. He was stuck. He slumped down into the chair and allowed himself a few minutes to wallow.
But wait. If this town held nothing for him. Maybe there was a town or a city that did. That's it. That's all he had to do, move. He would go to a new place and start over. But this time he'd do it right. He'd find a business, buy it and move to it's location. A chic little cafe, just waiting for a new owner to breathe life back into it. All he had to do was find it and then wait for a whole new life to begin. Leaning back, and closing his eyes, he spent a few minutes envisioning the sleeker, more sophisticated version of himself ushering the high class clientele, his cafe would naturally draw, in to savor the delicacies he would have in store for them. It was all going to be wonderful. Next year on New Year's Eve he wouldn't be sitting alone like some maudlin middle aged joke, he would be hosting a wonderful party at his new cafe.
There was only one little problem with his fresh new start. Actually, there were four, his mother, Annabelle, Squigman and Trixie. He couldn't leave without them. So he was just going to have to spend the next several days thinking up a fool proof plan to get them excited about moving. Yes, he felt much better already. And with a happy heart he went into the kitchen to joyously welcome the new year.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Tis the Season - Merry Christmas
He had appeared like a wisp of smoke down the chimney and slowly materialized into the large white cat, with a Christmas wreath slipped over one ear and a large sack slung over his shoulder, standing in front of them.
Dropping his sack , he stood silently studying the small stocking hung on the mantle. First he pulled a pair of spectacles from thin air and then reaching into his sack brought up an electronic tablet. Turning it on and typing something, he waited a few seconds and then said, "Ah yes, Miss Annabelle Snowballinsky-Igmieukowski lives her and she would like a teddy mouse with pink sparkly dress."
Snapping his claws, a small stuffed mouse with movable arms and legs appeared and flew into the stocking. Then tapping his claw against his cheek, he thought to himself out loud, "Ah yes the pink sparkly dress." Suddenly the mouse was wearing a dress.
"And she'll need a nightgown and a snowsuit and a dress that's not too fancy," he cataloged as he reached into his sack and stuffed the items into the stocking which grew larger as each one was added to it. Oh yes and pair of ice skates and a special from Santa candy cane. He smiled as he added the last few things to the stocking. And then standing back he looked it over and declared it perfect.
"Isn't he supposed to say, ho, ho, ho or something," Squig whispered, breaking Santa's concentration.
He twirled around and stared into four pairs of awe struck eyes. He frowned a little, concentrating on Trixie as if there was something about her that worried him. And then smiling, proclaimed, "Little Trixie Catotsky, I finally found you after all these years. I do believe that you wanted a pale blue sparkling bird with a real feather tail. He turned and dug deep into his sack, routed around a bit and held out exactly what she had asked for. "You moved on Christmas Eve and I couldn't find you, but here is your kitten heart's desire."
Trixie took the stuffed bird and cradled it against her chest for a minute and then sighing, handed it back to Santa. "There's a homeless kitten who lives near me, I think this would really make her Christmas special. She has lost so much, please give it to her."
"Now Trixie, Santa knows all about little Candy, and has something special for her already, including the ingredients for a wonderful Christmas dinner. This bird is yours and I want you to have it.
Squig's head was about to explode as he watched the touching scene in front of him. "What am I," he squawked," the only cat on the planet Santa had nothing for. If you can find the homeless, why in the hell couldn't you find me?"
Santa spun around and giving Squig a decided stink eye declared. "Little Squiggles Igmieukowski I do believe on Christmas morning you found three little mice who when you placed them together all squeaked and ran in different directions."
"Yes, but Dweezil gave me.." he stopped as everyone in the room turned to stare at Dweezil.
"It wasn't fair, " he proclaimed in righteous indignation. "You were getting a Santa gift and I wasn't ."
"Because, " Santa said emphatically, "You received your teddy mouse the year before." And staring him straight in the eye, why did you let Squig believe that you gave him those mice instead of me?
Dweezil deflated like a balloon, and said, quietly, "because I wanted him to like me."
For the first time, Squig saw the vulnerability that was underneath all of Dweezil's bombast and bossiness and said as he through his arms around him. "Like you, Dweeze, I loved you. I was an only kitten and suddenly I had this wonderful big brother who played with me and watched out for me and even let me snuggle up when I was afraid. How could you possibly think I didn't like you."
Santa sighed deeply and said, "Well I can't have a kitten thinking I neglected him, "What would you like, Squiggles? What is your heart's desire?"
Squig paused, and looked at his family and girlfriend and thought about the little lady upstairs and how excited she was going to be this morning when she woke up and saw that teddy mouse, and smiling, said, "Not a thing, Santa. I already have my heart's desire. It's all right here around me."
"Well, if you will excuse me, it's getting late and I have places to go and stockings to fill." Santa boomed heartily and then laying a finger aside of his nose, he winked at them all and up the chimney he rose. And they heard him exclaim as he rode out of sight,
Dropping his sack , he stood silently studying the small stocking hung on the mantle. First he pulled a pair of spectacles from thin air and then reaching into his sack brought up an electronic tablet. Turning it on and typing something, he waited a few seconds and then said, "Ah yes, Miss Annabelle Snowballinsky-Igmieukowski lives her and she would like a teddy mouse with pink sparkly dress."
Snapping his claws, a small stuffed mouse with movable arms and legs appeared and flew into the stocking. Then tapping his claw against his cheek, he thought to himself out loud, "Ah yes the pink sparkly dress." Suddenly the mouse was wearing a dress.
"And she'll need a nightgown and a snowsuit and a dress that's not too fancy," he cataloged as he reached into his sack and stuffed the items into the stocking which grew larger as each one was added to it. Oh yes and pair of ice skates and a special from Santa candy cane. He smiled as he added the last few things to the stocking. And then standing back he looked it over and declared it perfect.
"Isn't he supposed to say, ho, ho, ho or something," Squig whispered, breaking Santa's concentration.
He twirled around and stared into four pairs of awe struck eyes. He frowned a little, concentrating on Trixie as if there was something about her that worried him. And then smiling, proclaimed, "Little Trixie Catotsky, I finally found you after all these years. I do believe that you wanted a pale blue sparkling bird with a real feather tail. He turned and dug deep into his sack, routed around a bit and held out exactly what she had asked for. "You moved on Christmas Eve and I couldn't find you, but here is your kitten heart's desire."
Trixie took the stuffed bird and cradled it against her chest for a minute and then sighing, handed it back to Santa. "There's a homeless kitten who lives near me, I think this would really make her Christmas special. She has lost so much, please give it to her."
"Now Trixie, Santa knows all about little Candy, and has something special for her already, including the ingredients for a wonderful Christmas dinner. This bird is yours and I want you to have it.
Squig's head was about to explode as he watched the touching scene in front of him. "What am I," he squawked," the only cat on the planet Santa had nothing for. If you can find the homeless, why in the hell couldn't you find me?"
Santa spun around and giving Squig a decided stink eye declared. "Little Squiggles Igmieukowski I do believe on Christmas morning you found three little mice who when you placed them together all squeaked and ran in different directions."
"Yes, but Dweezil gave me.." he stopped as everyone in the room turned to stare at Dweezil.
"It wasn't fair, " he proclaimed in righteous indignation. "You were getting a Santa gift and I wasn't ."
"Because, " Santa said emphatically, "You received your teddy mouse the year before." And staring him straight in the eye, why did you let Squig believe that you gave him those mice instead of me?
Dweezil deflated like a balloon, and said, quietly, "because I wanted him to like me."
For the first time, Squig saw the vulnerability that was underneath all of Dweezil's bombast and bossiness and said as he through his arms around him. "Like you, Dweeze, I loved you. I was an only kitten and suddenly I had this wonderful big brother who played with me and watched out for me and even let me snuggle up when I was afraid. How could you possibly think I didn't like you."
Santa sighed deeply and said, "Well I can't have a kitten thinking I neglected him, "What would you like, Squiggles? What is your heart's desire?"
Squig paused, and looked at his family and girlfriend and thought about the little lady upstairs and how excited she was going to be this morning when she woke up and saw that teddy mouse, and smiling, said, "Not a thing, Santa. I already have my heart's desire. It's all right here around me."
"Well, if you will excuse me, it's getting late and I have places to go and stockings to fill." Santa boomed heartily and then laying a finger aside of his nose, he winked at them all and up the chimney he rose. And they heard him exclaim as he rode out of sight,
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Tis the Season Part 3
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
(Now I ask you where on this planet would you find a mouse dumb enough to want to live in that house!)
The stocking was hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that old Santa Cat soon would be there.
Little Annie was nestled all snug in her bed;
While visions of teddy mice danced in her head.
The rest were downstairs watching the fire crackle and snap,
Trying to decide on a tasty night cap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
They all stood as one to see what was the matter.
Away to the window they flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to the objects below,
When what to their wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer (mice.)
"Holy crap," Squig muttered under his breath. "He's real!" and then shrieked, "Put out that fire! we don't want to be the family that french fried Santa!"
TO BE CONTINUED
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
(Now I ask you where on this planet would you find a mouse dumb enough to want to live in that house!)
The stocking was hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that old Santa Cat soon would be there.
Little Annie was nestled all snug in her bed;
While visions of teddy mice danced in her head.
The rest were downstairs watching the fire crackle and snap,
Trying to decide on a tasty night cap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
They all stood as one to see what was the matter.
Away to the window they flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to the objects below,
When what to their wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer (mice.)
"Holy crap," Squig muttered under his breath. "He's real!" and then shrieked, "Put out that fire! we don't want to be the family that french fried Santa!"
TO BE CONTINUED
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Tis the Season Part 2
Yvette looked contentedly at her small family. They were gathered in the living room, sitting in front of the fire,with the tree finally decorated and sparkling in the corner. The final decoration of the tree had taken the skills of a United Nations Peace Keeping mission, but in the end it had been accomplished. Squg had seen reason. Ray Lewis had left the team and so it wouldn't be right to give him the place of honor as tree top angel. Dweezil had been bludgeoned into accepting that the tree was for the whole family and whole family got a say in how it was decorated. Squig got to keep one of his Raven's angels as long as he fixed the rest. And so eleven Metropolitan Museum of art angels and one Justin Tucker angel graced the tree. There was only one more thing to do.
From her knitting bag, she took out a pink knit stocking with the name Annie knitted across the top. "Do you what this is?" she asked as walked over to the mantle and hung the stocking.
"No Grandmom, I don't." Annie replied looking up at her.
"Well," she began, "way up in the North Pole there is a jolly old elf called Santa Cat. He and the rest of the elves spend all year in their workshop making toys and on Christmas Eve he hitches eight tiny deer mice to he sleigh and goes around the world giving out gifts. He lands on the roof and comes down the chimney and give each kitten the one gift that is his or her's hearts desire. So," she continued smiling down at Annie, we have hung this stocking so Santa Cat can bring you your heart's desire."
"You mean Santa Cat is going to bring me a pink teddy mouse in a sparkly dress," Annie squeaked hugging herself with delight.
"Oh crap," Squig thought to himself, "where in the hell am I going to find a pink teddy mouse in a sparkly dress when I don't even know what a teddy mouse is."
"Well, we don't know what Santa Cat will bring, so we're just going to have to wait and see. Now I think it's time one little kitten went to bed. So you go along upstair and I'll be up directly to tuck you in."
"Good night, grandmom. Good night, Dad. Good night, Father. Annie said as she went around the room giving each one a good night kiss and left.
She was barely out of the room before Squig, feeling like his head was going to explode, barked, "Why on earth did you have to tell her that load of crap about Santa Cat. Everybody knows there's no Santa Cat. It's just fairy tale, some demented cat made up to keep kittens on their best behavior."
"Of course there's a Santa Cat, how could you possibly have forgotten." Yvette said patiently waiting for Dweezil to jump in and agree with her. There was something very odd going on here. Dweezil was looking very shifty and guilty and Squig looked as sad as he did angry. This was something she was going to get to the bottom of the minute she could corner Dweezil and demand an answer.
TO BE CONTINUED.
From her knitting bag, she took out a pink knit stocking with the name Annie knitted across the top. "Do you what this is?" she asked as walked over to the mantle and hung the stocking.
"No Grandmom, I don't." Annie replied looking up at her.
"Well," she began, "way up in the North Pole there is a jolly old elf called Santa Cat. He and the rest of the elves spend all year in their workshop making toys and on Christmas Eve he hitches eight tiny deer mice to he sleigh and goes around the world giving out gifts. He lands on the roof and comes down the chimney and give each kitten the one gift that is his or her's hearts desire. So," she continued smiling down at Annie, we have hung this stocking so Santa Cat can bring you your heart's desire."
"You mean Santa Cat is going to bring me a pink teddy mouse in a sparkly dress," Annie squeaked hugging herself with delight.
"Oh crap," Squig thought to himself, "where in the hell am I going to find a pink teddy mouse in a sparkly dress when I don't even know what a teddy mouse is."
"Well, we don't know what Santa Cat will bring, so we're just going to have to wait and see. Now I think it's time one little kitten went to bed. So you go along upstair and I'll be up directly to tuck you in."
"Good night, grandmom. Good night, Dad. Good night, Father. Annie said as she went around the room giving each one a good night kiss and left.
She was barely out of the room before Squig, feeling like his head was going to explode, barked, "Why on earth did you have to tell her that load of crap about Santa Cat. Everybody knows there's no Santa Cat. It's just fairy tale, some demented cat made up to keep kittens on their best behavior."
"Of course there's a Santa Cat, how could you possibly have forgotten." Yvette said patiently waiting for Dweezil to jump in and agree with her. There was something very odd going on here. Dweezil was looking very shifty and guilty and Squig looked as sad as he did angry. This was something she was going to get to the bottom of the minute she could corner Dweezil and demand an answer.
TO BE CONTINUED.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Tis the Season - Part 1
"Every ornament has it's correct spot and there is a definite order for decorating a tree," Dweezil commanded standing hands on hips as he surveyed his decorating troops. His mother, bless her lovely self looked like she was in complete agreement. Annie looked excited, but malleable. She could be taught the proper way to decorate. But Squigman as always looked on the verge of mutiny. If left unsupervised for ten seconds he would soon be hurling tinsel and wrapping himself in garlands as he hopped around the tree. He was already winking at Annie and pretending to toss a wad of tinsel over his shoulder.
"Squigman," he barked. "How did that tinsel make it's way into this house. Year after year we have this discussion. There will be no tinsel on the tree. And if there were going to be tinsel, it would be silver tinsel not Ravens purple and black tinsel and before you even start, you can forget adding your collection of Ravens defensive lineman miniatures to the nativity scene and Ray Lewis is no longer a Raven and more importantly was not alive at the first Christmas, so his miniature will not be standing with the wise men."
Squig smiled and said, "Oh Dweezil what makes you think I'd do anything that cheesey? It would be sacrilegious to add my Raven's collection to the nativity scene, I'm hurt to think that you'd even think I'd do a thing like that.
Here," he added walking over to him and handing him the tinsel," I'm willing to do it your way this year."
Dweezil was nervous. Something was up. This was completely unlike Squigman to give in this easily. But the tree had to be decorated, so with great misgivings he took the tinsel and began barking orders to the troops. It took several hours, but the tree was, as always magnificent. There was just one thing missing, he had yet to add his collection of angels from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. But that was always the last thing and it didn't really matter where they were placed on the tree; so he felt free to leave and retrieve the cookies and hot chocolate they would enjoy while admiring his artistic seasonal creation.
"Squigman, why don't you and Annabelle add my angels to the tree and mother why don't you come with me to get the cookies and hot chocolate?"
They were only gone a few minutes, but when he entered the room he was so shocked that he dropped the tray full of cookies and stared at his tree in horror. His angels, his magnificent angels had been desecrated. Instead of their lovely heads and flowing gowns, each angel was now a member of the Ravens lineup. Worse yet, the statue of Ray Lewis wasn't standing with the wise men, he now had a halo, real feather wings,was wearing a dress and was parked on top of the tree.
Dweezil felt sick, he felt faint, With eyes narrowed, ears flat back, he looked over at Squigman who was innocently poking at the fire with an andiron. "Squigman, he hissed. "I am going to kill you."
TO BE CONTINUED.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Cleanliness is Next To..Don't Ask
"Squigman, get in here right now." Dweezil commanded from the newly remodeled jack and jill bathroom. "Do you see this," he said pointing to the brand new self sifting cat box. "And do you see this," he continued pointing to the baseball bat in the corner. "If you do not use this, cat box correctly," he instructed, "I will be forced to smack you around with that bat.
Squig was lounging against his bathroom door looking bored. Obviously more instruction was called for.
"Allright," Dweezil said snarkily, "I will pretend I am you and show you how this box works.
He shoved Squig out of the way and reentered the room looking bored and out of it. Scratching his butt and then under his arm he shuffled over to the box. Plopping himself down on the seat he said, "Here I am doing my morning cat business and now that I'm done what was it that Dweezil said to do, hmm.:
A. Pull the lever and sift my nasty waste away.
B. Leave it in a stinking pile for Dweezil to find.
C. Forget that this box is self sifting and wreck it trying to cover things up.
Gee this is really a hard question. Let me think. What would Dweezil do. Hmm, if I leave it in a stinking pile for Dweezil to find or wreck the box, Dweezil's going to hit my head with that bat. That might hurt, so I'd better push the lever. Now all I have to do is clean myself up and I can leave. Do you understand or should I make it simpler for you." he finished hopping off the box.
Squig stood there in sullen silence.
"OK, Squigman since I'm not getting a lot of response here, why don't you show me how it's done so that I know that you get it."
Squig smiled cheerfully as a wonderfully Dweezily idea came to him. Scooting into Dweezil's new room, he opened the door with a great deal of flourish and theatrics. Flouncing over to the box, he sat down and moments later said with a smile as he waved his paws about, "Oh looky look what I have made. Whatever should I do with it. Sift it away or gild it and create something wonderful. Oh I know, I should collect it, gild it, stick a feather in it and paste it on a hat. Aren't I the cleaverest kitty in the litter. Oooh did I say litter, naughty, naughty me."
And with that Dweezil pounced and began choking Squig while Squig got in a few good swipes. Their battle was interrupted by the shriek of a police whistle and Yvette, poking her head in the bathroom, said, "Since you boys have so much energy, you can come downstairs and help me make room for the Christmas tree.
Squig was lounging against his bathroom door looking bored. Obviously more instruction was called for.
"Allright," Dweezil said snarkily, "I will pretend I am you and show you how this box works.
He shoved Squig out of the way and reentered the room looking bored and out of it. Scratching his butt and then under his arm he shuffled over to the box. Plopping himself down on the seat he said, "Here I am doing my morning cat business and now that I'm done what was it that Dweezil said to do, hmm.:
A. Pull the lever and sift my nasty waste away.
B. Leave it in a stinking pile for Dweezil to find.
C. Forget that this box is self sifting and wreck it trying to cover things up.
Gee this is really a hard question. Let me think. What would Dweezil do. Hmm, if I leave it in a stinking pile for Dweezil to find or wreck the box, Dweezil's going to hit my head with that bat. That might hurt, so I'd better push the lever. Now all I have to do is clean myself up and I can leave. Do you understand or should I make it simpler for you." he finished hopping off the box.
Squig stood there in sullen silence.
"OK, Squigman since I'm not getting a lot of response here, why don't you show me how it's done so that I know that you get it."
Squig smiled cheerfully as a wonderfully Dweezily idea came to him. Scooting into Dweezil's new room, he opened the door with a great deal of flourish and theatrics. Flouncing over to the box, he sat down and moments later said with a smile as he waved his paws about, "Oh looky look what I have made. Whatever should I do with it. Sift it away or gild it and create something wonderful. Oh I know, I should collect it, gild it, stick a feather in it and paste it on a hat. Aren't I the cleaverest kitty in the litter. Oooh did I say litter, naughty, naughty me."
And with that Dweezil pounced and began choking Squig while Squig got in a few good swipes. Their battle was interrupted by the shriek of a police whistle and Yvette, poking her head in the bathroom, said, "Since you boys have so much energy, you can come downstairs and help me make room for the Christmas tree.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
We Gather Together
"I'll get that," Yvette called out in response to the ringing doorbell. The family was gathered in the kitchen putting the finishing touches to their Thanksgiving feast. Dweezil had created a masterpiece and was now supervising the ferrying of it from the kitchen to the dining room table.
Yvette took several deeps breathes and crossed her claws for good luck as she made her way down the hall. Taking a deep breath and smiling broadly she opened the door and exclaimed, "Trixie, come in come in. Here let me help you with the pie," she continued taking the pie plate from the extremely nervous looking cat standing on her doorstep."
"Miss Yvette," she whispered in a shaking voice. "It was really sweet of you to ask me to dinner, but it's not too late to change your mind."
"I have no intention of changing my mind, and don't be nervous. You've met everybody already,"
"That's what I'm worried about." she explained. "I don't think your son likes me too much. We didn't exactly meet under the best of circumstances."
"Now you leave my son to me, and don't you worry about a thing. It will all be fine, you'll see. You know a wise older gentleman cat once told me that you can't help where you start, it's what you make of yourself that counts. And you are on your way to making something very nice out of yourself. So let's go into the dining room and join the rest of the family."
"Look who's here," Yvette called out to the cats gathered around the table. "It's Trixie,"
"Trixie, "Squig said happily.
"Miss Trixie," Annie shrieked running over to give her a big hug.
"Oh goodie," Dweezil said in a falsely benign tone, in response to his mother's be nice or die look., "It's Trixie. Our little party is now complete."
"Sit here between Annie and me," Squig said pulling out the chair. And Yvette watched as she sat down.
Taking her own place at the table, Yvette said quietly now before we eat, I would like everyone to join paws and take a moment to give thanks for our wonderful meal and to also give thanks for all the service cats in uniform who are far from home tonight. When they all looked up, she said I would like each of us to say what we are thankful for. I'll start and we can go around the table.
Yvette: I'm thankful that I found my son and when I did I found this wonderful family and a home."
Annie: " I'm thankful that instead of catching that mouse I caught you Dad and then I got Father and then Grandmom and now I've caught Trixie."
Trixie:" I'm thankful that Squig found something in me that I'd forgotten was there and believed in me until I started believing in myself."
Squig: "I'm thankful for you Dweezil. From the day Maia brought me home, you have been the best big brother a guy could have. And I'm thankful for you, Annie. You make me happy everyday. And Trixie, what can I say."
Dweezil: " I'm thankful for you, Squigman. You let me win when you could easily beat me and I know that. And no matter what I think up, you go along with me even when you know I'm being absurd. And Annabelle, you are the light of my life. And mother, I'm glad you're here, sitting at our table. And Trixie," deep sigh, "you are welcome at my table."
And with that, the cats began to talk and laugh and enjoy their dinner.
###############################
I would like to take this opportunity to say that I am thankful for all of you come back every week to see what these guys are up to and I hope that this evening finds you surrounded by friends and family.
Maia
Yvette took several deeps breathes and crossed her claws for good luck as she made her way down the hall. Taking a deep breath and smiling broadly she opened the door and exclaimed, "Trixie, come in come in. Here let me help you with the pie," she continued taking the pie plate from the extremely nervous looking cat standing on her doorstep."
"Miss Yvette," she whispered in a shaking voice. "It was really sweet of you to ask me to dinner, but it's not too late to change your mind."
"I have no intention of changing my mind, and don't be nervous. You've met everybody already,"
"That's what I'm worried about." she explained. "I don't think your son likes me too much. We didn't exactly meet under the best of circumstances."
"Now you leave my son to me, and don't you worry about a thing. It will all be fine, you'll see. You know a wise older gentleman cat once told me that you can't help where you start, it's what you make of yourself that counts. And you are on your way to making something very nice out of yourself. So let's go into the dining room and join the rest of the family."
"Look who's here," Yvette called out to the cats gathered around the table. "It's Trixie,"
"Trixie, "Squig said happily.
"Miss Trixie," Annie shrieked running over to give her a big hug.
"Oh goodie," Dweezil said in a falsely benign tone, in response to his mother's be nice or die look., "It's Trixie. Our little party is now complete."
"Sit here between Annie and me," Squig said pulling out the chair. And Yvette watched as she sat down.
Taking her own place at the table, Yvette said quietly now before we eat, I would like everyone to join paws and take a moment to give thanks for our wonderful meal and to also give thanks for all the service cats in uniform who are far from home tonight. When they all looked up, she said I would like each of us to say what we are thankful for. I'll start and we can go around the table.
Yvette: I'm thankful that I found my son and when I did I found this wonderful family and a home."
Annie: " I'm thankful that instead of catching that mouse I caught you Dad and then I got Father and then Grandmom and now I've caught Trixie."
Trixie:" I'm thankful that Squig found something in me that I'd forgotten was there and believed in me until I started believing in myself."
Squig: "I'm thankful for you Dweezil. From the day Maia brought me home, you have been the best big brother a guy could have. And I'm thankful for you, Annie. You make me happy everyday. And Trixie, what can I say."
Dweezil: " I'm thankful for you, Squigman. You let me win when you could easily beat me and I know that. And no matter what I think up, you go along with me even when you know I'm being absurd. And Annabelle, you are the light of my life. And mother, I'm glad you're here, sitting at our table. And Trixie," deep sigh, "you are welcome at my table."
And with that, the cats began to talk and laugh and enjoy their dinner.
###############################
I would like to take this opportunity to say that I am thankful for all of you come back every week to see what these guys are up to and I hope that this evening finds you surrounded by friends and family.
Maia
Sunday, November 24, 2013
The Winds of Change - Part 3
Yvette spent a very instructive hour on the phone with the lady cat next door, the outcome of which was that Annabelle was invited to play with the kittens next door.
Yvette walked quietly into her room and after waiting a moment, said sweetly, "Oh Annabelle, Cloe next door has invited you over to play with her kittens and I think it would only be nice for you to accept."
"I can't Grandmom, " she replied looking up from her desk. "I can't leave the house until I've finished my 20,000 word essay on why fathers are always right and false advertising is against the law for a reason."
"I think," Yvette replied walking over to her and closing her notebook, "your essay is finished. Now run along next door and play.
It took Annie about two seconds to decide that playing with Brittany and Tiara next door beat out trying to think up another way of saying, "I was stupid and you were right," any way you wanted to put the two together and so she happily scampered down the stairs and out the front.
Yvette waited with narrowing eyes and switching tail until she heard the front door shut and then like a lady cat on a mission she marched down the stairs and into the kitchen. Without giving him the opportunity to open his mouth in protest, she grabbed Dweezil by the ear and dragging him into the living room, shoved him onto the ornate and uncomfortable settee. Ordering him to stay put, she walked into the study, turned off the tv and grabbed Squig by the ear. Dragging him into the living room, she shoved him next to Dweezil.
"I have been on a fact finding mission upstairs and I would just like to know what you two baboons have to say for yourself." She demanded staring them down.
They both sat completely silent staring at their paws.
"Oh," she continued in a hiss, "you think it's appropriate to make a small kitten sleep all by herself in that huge, hideous room?"
"Now wait a minute, Mother Dweezil," Squig said highly offended. "I worked very hard to give her a pretty pink princess room."
"That color is your idea of pretty?"
"Well it's pink and it was on sale at the home store." he shot back in his own defense.
"And you think it's appropriate for a small kitten to have to clean up your litter box waste?"
Squig sank back in the settee, wishing he could crawl under it Damn, he been in a hurry this morning and hadn't covered up his business. Well he'd fix that as soon as this lemon squeeze was over.
"Kittens," Yvette continued,"like to snuggle up at night. It makes them feel secure. And you, " she continued poking Squig in the chest, couldn't find a corner in your room for her? No wait, you couldn't find a corner in that hell hole of yours for an ant. A flea couldn't find an inch to call its own."
"Stop smirking Dweezil," she said turning to face her son. You couldn't find a corner in that palace of yours for her?
"Mother," he explained happily, it wouldn't be right. I'm a grown gentleman cat and she's a little girl. What ever are you suggesting?"
"Don't make me add twisted and perverted to the growing list of unflattering adjectives I'm compiling about you." she said staring him down. It should satisfy you to know that Annabelle and I are moving into the Master Suite and you are moving into her old room.
"Oh no your not," Dweezil squawked jumping up and waiving his paws in agitation.
"Oh yes I am, " she answered pushing him back into settee. "In fact we have already moved in. Annabelle will be sharing my bed until the two of you have fixed hers."
"I refuse to share a bathroom with that pig," Dweezil shrieked pointing at Squig.
"Then I suggest you spend the rest of the afternoon constructing an outhouse for yourself, or going to the antique store and buying yourself a chamber pot."
"Mother I spent a lot of time and money on that room and bathroom"
"So go spend some time and money on your new room and bathroom. "And Squigman, she called over her shoulder as she walked out. You have one week to clean up that sty or I'm calling in the Health Department.
Thanksgiving is less than a week and away and since we're having a guest over, I suggest the two of you get started."
Yvette walked quietly into her room and after waiting a moment, said sweetly, "Oh Annabelle, Cloe next door has invited you over to play with her kittens and I think it would only be nice for you to accept."
"I can't Grandmom, " she replied looking up from her desk. "I can't leave the house until I've finished my 20,000 word essay on why fathers are always right and false advertising is against the law for a reason."
"I think," Yvette replied walking over to her and closing her notebook, "your essay is finished. Now run along next door and play.
It took Annie about two seconds to decide that playing with Brittany and Tiara next door beat out trying to think up another way of saying, "I was stupid and you were right," any way you wanted to put the two together and so she happily scampered down the stairs and out the front.
Yvette waited with narrowing eyes and switching tail until she heard the front door shut and then like a lady cat on a mission she marched down the stairs and into the kitchen. Without giving him the opportunity to open his mouth in protest, she grabbed Dweezil by the ear and dragging him into the living room, shoved him onto the ornate and uncomfortable settee. Ordering him to stay put, she walked into the study, turned off the tv and grabbed Squig by the ear. Dragging him into the living room, she shoved him next to Dweezil.
"I have been on a fact finding mission upstairs and I would just like to know what you two baboons have to say for yourself." She demanded staring them down.
They both sat completely silent staring at their paws.
"Oh," she continued in a hiss, "you think it's appropriate to make a small kitten sleep all by herself in that huge, hideous room?"
"Now wait a minute, Mother Dweezil," Squig said highly offended. "I worked very hard to give her a pretty pink princess room."
"That color is your idea of pretty?"
"Well it's pink and it was on sale at the home store." he shot back in his own defense.
"And you think it's appropriate for a small kitten to have to clean up your litter box waste?"
Squig sank back in the settee, wishing he could crawl under it Damn, he been in a hurry this morning and hadn't covered up his business. Well he'd fix that as soon as this lemon squeeze was over.
"Kittens," Yvette continued,"like to snuggle up at night. It makes them feel secure. And you, " she continued poking Squig in the chest, couldn't find a corner in your room for her? No wait, you couldn't find a corner in that hell hole of yours for an ant. A flea couldn't find an inch to call its own."
"Stop smirking Dweezil," she said turning to face her son. You couldn't find a corner in that palace of yours for her?
"Mother," he explained happily, it wouldn't be right. I'm a grown gentleman cat and she's a little girl. What ever are you suggesting?"
"Don't make me add twisted and perverted to the growing list of unflattering adjectives I'm compiling about you." she said staring him down. It should satisfy you to know that Annabelle and I are moving into the Master Suite and you are moving into her old room.
"Oh no your not," Dweezil squawked jumping up and waiving his paws in agitation.
"Oh yes I am, " she answered pushing him back into settee. "In fact we have already moved in. Annabelle will be sharing my bed until the two of you have fixed hers."
"I refuse to share a bathroom with that pig," Dweezil shrieked pointing at Squig.
"Then I suggest you spend the rest of the afternoon constructing an outhouse for yourself, or going to the antique store and buying yourself a chamber pot."
"Mother I spent a lot of time and money on that room and bathroom"
"So go spend some time and money on your new room and bathroom. "And Squigman, she called over her shoulder as she walked out. You have one week to clean up that sty or I'm calling in the Health Department.
Thanksgiving is less than a week and away and since we're having a guest over, I suggest the two of you get started."
Sunday, November 17, 2013
The Winds of Change - Part 2
Yvette stopped at the base of the stairs and retrieved a small notebook and a silver pen from her handbag. Flipping the notebook open she followed Annie up the stairs and to the first bedroom. She hesitated momentarily as she opened her notebook and walked in.
"This is my bedroom," Annie announced proudly,"and this," she said indicating the small monstrosity located in the corner "is my pink princess kitten bed."
Yvette eyeballed the room and wrote the following in her notebook. "Room and bed are painted the color of pink normally found in bottles of digestive medicine. Princess kitten is an incompetent cartoon of what I suppose is kitten wearing a tiara. All must change."
"Did you pick out this interesting color yourself or did your fathers help you," She asked, delicately arching an eyebrow.
"I told my dad I wanted a pretty pink princess kitten room and he painted the whole thing for me. He picked out the colors and everything. He even painted the princess kitten on my bed."
"I see," Yvette answered, "and did my son help out in this project?"
"Oh no," Annie said doing what Yvette imagined was a rather good imitation of her son. "Squigman, if you think for one second I am going to assist you in creating this vomit of a room, you can think again. I refuse to be involved in this affront to good taste."
"Hmm," Yvette thought to herself, my granddaughter has a large hearted father with hideous taste."
"And this," Annie said opening one of doors leading off the bedroom, is the bathroom I shard with dad. Oh dear,"
"What," Yvette answered as she stepped forward and saw for herself. Someone had used the litter box and had not covered up his business. A very large someone going by the pile in the center of the box.
"You just wait right here grandmom and I'll just cover it up," Annie squeaked scrambling to deal with the offensive scene in front of her.
"You'll do no such thing," Yvette ordered as she snatched her back out the bathroom. " The culprit will march his parts back up here and clean up his mess. I assume the state of his room is reflected in this mess."
"Dad isn't much into cleaning so we generally just shut his door." Annie explained trying to block her grandmother's entrance into the next room.
It didn't work as Yvette steamrolled on by her and with paws crossed over her chest, surveyed the disaster in front of her. This room was not only hideously messy, but also disgustingly dirty complete with filthy laundry, cobwebs and dustballs the size of small cars. This room needed an earth mover, pest control experts and a team of sanitizers to make it habitable. They would deal with this obscenity later.
"Alright," she said shutting the door. Let's have a look at my son's room. They walked silently down the hall and entered the master suite. The room was large airy and exquisitely decorated. From the black silk toille wallpaper to the crested mahogany bed to the small alcove lined in built in bookshelves, everything was perfect. She walked around measuring the dimensions of the room and turning her head in mid measurement asked, is there an en suite connected to this room? "
"Oh yes," Annie answered excitedly,"it's right here and opened the door to the most perfect bathroom Yvette had ever seen. It came complete with a self sifting cat box, a large framed mirror, a vanity with a marble top, rain shower and chandelier.
"Yes," she said, "all of this will do nicely. We are moving in here tonight."
"We, " Annie asked, confused.
"Yes, Annabelle, you and I are going to take this room as ours. You are going to sleep in the small alcove and I am sleeping right here," she said sitting on the bed. Now why don't we go and tell the boys about our plans"
"Father's not going to like this," Annie muttered under her breath.
"That may be," she answered but this is what we are going to do starting now.
TO BE CONTINUED
"This is my bedroom," Annie announced proudly,"and this," she said indicating the small monstrosity located in the corner "is my pink princess kitten bed."
Yvette eyeballed the room and wrote the following in her notebook. "Room and bed are painted the color of pink normally found in bottles of digestive medicine. Princess kitten is an incompetent cartoon of what I suppose is kitten wearing a tiara. All must change."
"Did you pick out this interesting color yourself or did your fathers help you," She asked, delicately arching an eyebrow.
"I told my dad I wanted a pretty pink princess kitten room and he painted the whole thing for me. He picked out the colors and everything. He even painted the princess kitten on my bed."
"I see," Yvette answered, "and did my son help out in this project?"
"Oh no," Annie said doing what Yvette imagined was a rather good imitation of her son. "Squigman, if you think for one second I am going to assist you in creating this vomit of a room, you can think again. I refuse to be involved in this affront to good taste."
"Hmm," Yvette thought to herself, my granddaughter has a large hearted father with hideous taste."
"And this," Annie said opening one of doors leading off the bedroom, is the bathroom I shard with dad. Oh dear,"
"What," Yvette answered as she stepped forward and saw for herself. Someone had used the litter box and had not covered up his business. A very large someone going by the pile in the center of the box.
"You just wait right here grandmom and I'll just cover it up," Annie squeaked scrambling to deal with the offensive scene in front of her.
"You'll do no such thing," Yvette ordered as she snatched her back out the bathroom. " The culprit will march his parts back up here and clean up his mess. I assume the state of his room is reflected in this mess."
"Dad isn't much into cleaning so we generally just shut his door." Annie explained trying to block her grandmother's entrance into the next room.
It didn't work as Yvette steamrolled on by her and with paws crossed over her chest, surveyed the disaster in front of her. This room was not only hideously messy, but also disgustingly dirty complete with filthy laundry, cobwebs and dustballs the size of small cars. This room needed an earth mover, pest control experts and a team of sanitizers to make it habitable. They would deal with this obscenity later.
"Alright," she said shutting the door. Let's have a look at my son's room. They walked silently down the hall and entered the master suite. The room was large airy and exquisitely decorated. From the black silk toille wallpaper to the crested mahogany bed to the small alcove lined in built in bookshelves, everything was perfect. She walked around measuring the dimensions of the room and turning her head in mid measurement asked, is there an en suite connected to this room? "
"Oh yes," Annie answered excitedly,"it's right here and opened the door to the most perfect bathroom Yvette had ever seen. It came complete with a self sifting cat box, a large framed mirror, a vanity with a marble top, rain shower and chandelier.
"Yes," she said, "all of this will do nicely. We are moving in here tonight."
"We, " Annie asked, confused.
"Yes, Annabelle, you and I are going to take this room as ours. You are going to sleep in the small alcove and I am sleeping right here," she said sitting on the bed. Now why don't we go and tell the boys about our plans"
"Father's not going to like this," Annie muttered under her breath.
"That may be," she answered but this is what we are going to do starting now.
TO BE CONTINUED
Sunday, November 10, 2013
The Winds of Change - Part 1
"Mother Dweezil, " Squig gasped as he hefted in the last of her ten suitcases, boxes, valises and carry ons. "What do you have in these, bricks?"
"Oh just a few personal accessories and my favorite objets de art," she said airily waving her paw.
Squig figured that her few personal accessories were all kinds of hats, bonnets, and bows. The Dweezil nut had obviously not fallen to far from the tree. But what about that other group the objets de art
e. What were they? He puzzled it out until he knew. They were arty objects and arty objects were nothing but fancied up doodads. Dweezil for once was actually right. Lady cats came attached to doodads. And if the weight and number of boxes were any indication, this particular lady cat already had enough to festoon every inch of their house.
Scurrying over to Dweezil, he whispered, "Dweeze your mother is covered in doodads."
"What!" Dweezil said, extremely annoyed, "are you trying to insinuate about my mother."
"Those boxes," he whispered, "pointing to the pile in the hall," are crammed with doodads and when those doodads start procreating in the dark, our house is going to look like a place one of those TV hoarder experts will want to visit."
"How dare you say my mother is a hoarder and her priceless collection of objets de art are doodads. Those are very rare and valuable collectibles, things which obviously a very low and common cat such as yourself couldn't possibly understand. A cat whose taste in art runs to football posters and girly calendars."
"Oh yeah, well who's got the website, fat lady cats on bikes," bookmarked oh his computer?" Squig shot back, crossing his paws against his chest. "I guess that's your idea of first class art."
"Why you," Dweezil snarled pouncing on him.
"Grandmom," Annie said nervously looking up at Yvette, shouldn't you blow your whistle?
"Heavens no. They're having too much fun. So while they're sorting each other out, why don't you show me the bedrooms, so that I can pick mine."
TO BE CONTINUED.
"Oh just a few personal accessories and my favorite objets de art," she said airily waving her paw.
Squig figured that her few personal accessories were all kinds of hats, bonnets, and bows. The Dweezil nut had obviously not fallen to far from the tree. But what about that other group the objets de art
e. What were they? He puzzled it out until he knew. They were arty objects and arty objects were nothing but fancied up doodads. Dweezil for once was actually right. Lady cats came attached to doodads. And if the weight and number of boxes were any indication, this particular lady cat already had enough to festoon every inch of their house.
Scurrying over to Dweezil, he whispered, "Dweeze your mother is covered in doodads."
"What!" Dweezil said, extremely annoyed, "are you trying to insinuate about my mother."
"Those boxes," he whispered, "pointing to the pile in the hall," are crammed with doodads and when those doodads start procreating in the dark, our house is going to look like a place one of those TV hoarder experts will want to visit."
"How dare you say my mother is a hoarder and her priceless collection of objets de art are doodads. Those are very rare and valuable collectibles, things which obviously a very low and common cat such as yourself couldn't possibly understand. A cat whose taste in art runs to football posters and girly calendars."
"Oh yeah, well who's got the website, fat lady cats on bikes," bookmarked oh his computer?" Squig shot back, crossing his paws against his chest. "I guess that's your idea of first class art."
"Why you," Dweezil snarled pouncing on him.
"Grandmom," Annie said nervously looking up at Yvette, shouldn't you blow your whistle?
"Heavens no. They're having too much fun. So while they're sorting each other out, why don't you show me the bedrooms, so that I can pick mine."
TO BE CONTINUED.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
And Boils Over Part 4
"Dweezil," the lady cat gasped, "My long lost kitten, Dweezil. You're alive!" And with that she fainted, crumpling into a tidy heap on the doorstep.
"Annabelle," Dweezil shouted as he rushed over to help his mother. "Bring me water, now."
Annie put down her pen, and ran out of her room and down the stairs to the kitchen. She pushed her stool over to the sink and climbing up on it, filled her ballerina glass with water. Being very careful not to spill any on the carpet, she ran to door.
"Here father," she said handing the glass to Dweezil.
"Father," the lady cat repeated as her eyes fluttered open. "You have a kitten?" Sitting up, she adjusted her hat back to it's rakish angle and then said,"Oh Dweezil, you have a kitten. When a mother sends her kittens out into the world, she hopes for the best, but tries not to have too many expectations, the world being the cruel place that it is."
Dweezil rushed to help his mother onto her feet, while a very impressed Annie retrieved her designer hand bag.
"Grandmom," Annie said smiling up at her. "Here's your purse."
"You may call me Grand mere and we refer to this as a handbag," she instructed, taking it from her. "Now lets have a good look at you." She eyed Annie up and down for a few seconds and then, pronounced.,
"Oh Dweezil, she's adorable," and then stopped as a very annoying thought crossed her mind, "Of course, I don't want to be a bother and will spend my time sitting quietly in some corner. I wouldn't want to upset the lady cat of the house, and oh by the way, where is she?"
With his unerring knack of having the worst timing possible, Squig walked into the hall scratching himself and asked, "Hey Dweeze, are there any more of the those tasty cheese straws hiding some place?"
Annie watched as an odd look flitted across Grandmom's face and then she sighed sadly and said, "A mother shouldn't have too many hopeful expectations in this cruel world and must learn to accept what she must."
Squig looked at the lady cat and then at Dweezil and smiling broadly walked over to her, threw his paws around her and giving her a big hug, said, "You must be Dweezil's mother."
Stepping back he said helpfully, "Now Mother Dweezil, I don't want you to get the wrong idea about your son and me. We're just good friends and roommates."
"You may call me Yvette," she instructed, relaxing a little.
"No, Mother Dweezil, " that would be disrespectful.," he replied, " I'm always going to refer to you as Mother Dweezil. And I want you to get, down to the depths of your claws, that your son and I really like lady cats."
"Well some of us like lady cats," Dweezil commented leaning back against the wall, "While others of us prefer female felines."
"Hey, Fatso, at least I have a girl friend."
"I don't think it would be an exaggeration," Dweezil replied innocently, "To say that half of the sailing cats in the US Navy have had your girlfriend."
"You take that back right now. You know that Trixie was just down on her luck."
"Trixie was certainly down on something, but I didn't know it was currently being called luck,"
"Why you,"
A shrill noise pierced the argument deflating it like a balloon and Annie watched as her grandmom, blew again on a silver police whistle and then put it back in her pur,,, handbag.
"If you two are all through figuring out how many sailing cats there are in the US Navy and thinking up new definitions for the word luck, would you please help me in with my things and show me to my room. I am tired and would like to freshen up." She said, giving her dads the stinkeye to end all stinkeyes.
Annie hugged herself in delight. Her add had worked. The right lady cat had arrived.
"Annabelle," Dweezil shouted as he rushed over to help his mother. "Bring me water, now."
Annie put down her pen, and ran out of her room and down the stairs to the kitchen. She pushed her stool over to the sink and climbing up on it, filled her ballerina glass with water. Being very careful not to spill any on the carpet, she ran to door.
"Here father," she said handing the glass to Dweezil.
"Father," the lady cat repeated as her eyes fluttered open. "You have a kitten?" Sitting up, she adjusted her hat back to it's rakish angle and then said,"Oh Dweezil, you have a kitten. When a mother sends her kittens out into the world, she hopes for the best, but tries not to have too many expectations, the world being the cruel place that it is."
Dweezil rushed to help his mother onto her feet, while a very impressed Annie retrieved her designer hand bag.
"Grandmom," Annie said smiling up at her. "Here's your purse."
"You may call me Grand mere and we refer to this as a handbag," she instructed, taking it from her. "Now lets have a good look at you." She eyed Annie up and down for a few seconds and then, pronounced.,
"Oh Dweezil, she's adorable," and then stopped as a very annoying thought crossed her mind, "Of course, I don't want to be a bother and will spend my time sitting quietly in some corner. I wouldn't want to upset the lady cat of the house, and oh by the way, where is she?"
With his unerring knack of having the worst timing possible, Squig walked into the hall scratching himself and asked, "Hey Dweeze, are there any more of the those tasty cheese straws hiding some place?"
Annie watched as an odd look flitted across Grandmom's face and then she sighed sadly and said, "A mother shouldn't have too many hopeful expectations in this cruel world and must learn to accept what she must."
Squig looked at the lady cat and then at Dweezil and smiling broadly walked over to her, threw his paws around her and giving her a big hug, said, "You must be Dweezil's mother."
Stepping back he said helpfully, "Now Mother Dweezil, I don't want you to get the wrong idea about your son and me. We're just good friends and roommates."
"You may call me Yvette," she instructed, relaxing a little.
"No, Mother Dweezil, " that would be disrespectful.," he replied, " I'm always going to refer to you as Mother Dweezil. And I want you to get, down to the depths of your claws, that your son and I really like lady cats."
"Well some of us like lady cats," Dweezil commented leaning back against the wall, "While others of us prefer female felines."
"Hey, Fatso, at least I have a girl friend."
"I don't think it would be an exaggeration," Dweezil replied innocently, "To say that half of the sailing cats in the US Navy have had your girlfriend."
"You take that back right now. You know that Trixie was just down on her luck."
"Trixie was certainly down on something, but I didn't know it was currently being called luck,"
"Why you,"
A shrill noise pierced the argument deflating it like a balloon and Annie watched as her grandmom, blew again on a silver police whistle and then put it back in her pur,,, handbag.
"If you two are all through figuring out how many sailing cats there are in the US Navy and thinking up new definitions for the word luck, would you please help me in with my things and show me to my room. I am tired and would like to freshen up." She said, giving her dads the stinkeye to end all stinkeyes.
Annie hugged herself in delight. Her add had worked. The right lady cat had arrived.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
And Boils Over Part 3
In the ensuing weeks the boys often commented that it was as if someone had erected a billboard with a large red arrow pointing directly at their front door; and on it that someone had inscribed the following in letters ten feet tall:
"Give me your strippers, your hookers, your pole dancers, your various and sundry ladies of the night all yearning for that easy job where one would be absolutely guaranteed to make a lot of money."
When the hoards of hopeful applicants grew into the hundreds and became a tad surly,Dweezil and Squig became experts at crowd control utilizing both expansive methods of persuasion, as well as a more often than not baseball bat and a club sized aerosol spray container of Pest Begone.
The neighbors, understandably taking a dim view of the scantily clad lady cats lounging all over the nearby yards, were as well as shunning the beleaguered family, actively circulating a petition to have them thrown out of the village.
None of this mattered too much to Annie, the source of the whole mess, because she was up in her room working on her 20,000 word essay covering the following points:
1. My fathers know more than I do and want the best for me.
2. Kittens should never sneak behind their fathers' backs and disobey them.
3. The caternet is not a toy that kittens should play with.
4. False advertising is against the law for a reason.
So one evening, it was with a heavy heart, Dweezil just knew that should he actually be fortunate enough to realize his dream,and open his wonderfully chic restaurant, after this no one would ever darken the door. And leaden feet, he simply hadn't the energy to deal with another smart mouthed sex trade worker, that he made his way to the front door. Opening it, he peaked out and stared at the elegant black and white lady cat standing on his doorstep. From the top of her cherry red cloche hat to the complimentary bow tied around her neck there was something achingly familiar about her. He looked, blinked and looked again. Holding on to the door for support, he finally whispered the word, "Mother."
TO BE CONTINUED
"Give me your strippers, your hookers, your pole dancers, your various and sundry ladies of the night all yearning for that easy job where one would be absolutely guaranteed to make a lot of money."
When the hoards of hopeful applicants grew into the hundreds and became a tad surly,Dweezil and Squig became experts at crowd control utilizing both expansive methods of persuasion, as well as a more often than not baseball bat and a club sized aerosol spray container of Pest Begone.
The neighbors, understandably taking a dim view of the scantily clad lady cats lounging all over the nearby yards, were as well as shunning the beleaguered family, actively circulating a petition to have them thrown out of the village.
None of this mattered too much to Annie, the source of the whole mess, because she was up in her room working on her 20,000 word essay covering the following points:
1. My fathers know more than I do and want the best for me.
2. Kittens should never sneak behind their fathers' backs and disobey them.
3. The caternet is not a toy that kittens should play with.
4. False advertising is against the law for a reason.
So one evening, it was with a heavy heart, Dweezil just knew that should he actually be fortunate enough to realize his dream,and open his wonderfully chic restaurant, after this no one would ever darken the door. And leaden feet, he simply hadn't the energy to deal with another smart mouthed sex trade worker, that he made his way to the front door. Opening it, he peaked out and stared at the elegant black and white lady cat standing on his doorstep. From the top of her cherry red cloche hat to the complimentary bow tied around her neck there was something achingly familiar about her. He looked, blinked and looked again. Holding on to the door for support, he finally whispered the word, "Mother."
TO BE CONTINUED
Monday, October 21, 2013
And Boils Over Part 2
The lady cat at the front door wasn't exactly what Annie had in mind when she placed the add. She was grey and slinky and carried a small suitcase.
"Hi doll," she rasped in a voice that echoed too many late nights. "You're a little young to be getting started, but then I wasn't a whole lot older than you when I entered the trade," she commented dryly,entering the front hall and looking around, "So, she continued, just where are these big bad gentleman cats?"
As if on cue, Squig entered the hall and stopped dead in his tracks as he looked the lady cat up and down. "So," he smiled, "just who do we have here."
"If you want to turn your pain into pleasure, Domonatrixie is the name to remember," the lady purred, pulling some kind of whippie thingy and a pair of handcuffs out of her suitcase. Smacking the whippie thingy against her leg and circling her head with the handcuffs, she slithered over to Squig and proceeded to wrap herself around him like a boa constrictor.
Squig's eyes bulged out as she tightened her grip, until finally finally he started squawking, "Dweeze, Dweeze, I need you, in the hall, NOW"
A few seconds late, Dweezil, none too pleased at being interrupted from his baking, walked in. First he stood quietly, taking in the disgusting display in its entirety and then stated calmly, "Madame unhand Squigman this minute."
"Her name in Domanatrixie," Annie volunteered, helpfully.
"And you know this, how?"
"Because if you want to turn your pain into pleasure, Domanatrixie is the name to remember," she chirped happily.
Dweezil looking like he could chew nails, stomped over to the pair and without further ado pealed Domantrixie off of Sqig. "Madame," he growled, put away your accouterments and remove yourself from the premises."
"Well, you needed be so huffy, Fat Boy, " Domanatrixie shot back."After all you advertised for me."
"I did no such thing!"
"Want to bet Fatso," she continued walking over to her suitcase and removing a torn piece of paper, "Lady cat wanted to discipline, while at the same time being very nice to two gentleman cats." she read narrowing her eyes and staring straight a him. "For the right lady cat this will be a very easy job and you will make a lot of money. Oh yes, you should also be able to show a small girl kitten how the job is done."
"Squigman," Dweezil roared, "knowing full well we have an innocent little kitten living with us, why did you place an advertisement (pronounced with a soft i) for a hooker?"
"I didn't."
"Well if you didn't and I certainly didn't who.." and he didn't have to finish that thought. Because all of a sudden he knew.
"Annabelle, explain yourself," he commanded.
"Well," she stammered, wringing her paws, "I just thought that once you met the lady cat, you'd like her and you two would stop arguing all the time and we could have a real home."
"Ahh, the lady cat said looking somehow softer and less threatening, "those two baboons weren't looking for a good time you were looking for a mom, am I right?"
"I'm sorry, Miss Trixie," Annie said softly nodding her head in the affirmative.
"So am I kiddo, " she answered kissing the top of her head, "so am I."
"I want the small female cat to go to her room this instant and I want the large female cat to crawl back under whatever rock she crawled out of and leave here at once " Dweezil commanded pointing to the door.
"Dweeze, this was just a mistake and I'm sure there was no real harm done," Squig chuckled as he picked up Trixie's suitcase and helped her out the door.
"You know, "he whispered, hoping that Dweezil couldn't hear "You really had me going there for
a few minutes, but now that we know it was all a mistake, maybe sometime if you're free we could?"
"Here's my card," she smiled call me anytime.
"I might just do that," he answered shutting the door.
"Squigman," Dweezil pronounced, heading back to the kitchen, "I heard that.
"Oh Fat Boy, eavesdropping were you" Squig chuckled, "This is really pretty funny if you think about it. I don't think we should be too hard on Annie, since it was just one lady cat and no real harm was done."
In the weeks to come, Squig was to find out just wrong he was on both accounts.
TO BE CONTINUED
"Hi doll," she rasped in a voice that echoed too many late nights. "You're a little young to be getting started, but then I wasn't a whole lot older than you when I entered the trade," she commented dryly,entering the front hall and looking around, "So, she continued, just where are these big bad gentleman cats?"
As if on cue, Squig entered the hall and stopped dead in his tracks as he looked the lady cat up and down. "So," he smiled, "just who do we have here."
"If you want to turn your pain into pleasure, Domonatrixie is the name to remember," the lady purred, pulling some kind of whippie thingy and a pair of handcuffs out of her suitcase. Smacking the whippie thingy against her leg and circling her head with the handcuffs, she slithered over to Squig and proceeded to wrap herself around him like a boa constrictor.
Squig's eyes bulged out as she tightened her grip, until finally finally he started squawking, "Dweeze, Dweeze, I need you, in the hall, NOW"
A few seconds late, Dweezil, none too pleased at being interrupted from his baking, walked in. First he stood quietly, taking in the disgusting display in its entirety and then stated calmly, "Madame unhand Squigman this minute."
"Her name in Domanatrixie," Annie volunteered, helpfully.
"And you know this, how?"
"Because if you want to turn your pain into pleasure, Domanatrixie is the name to remember," she chirped happily.
Dweezil looking like he could chew nails, stomped over to the pair and without further ado pealed Domantrixie off of Sqig. "Madame," he growled, put away your accouterments and remove yourself from the premises."
"Well, you needed be so huffy, Fat Boy, " Domanatrixie shot back."After all you advertised for me."
"I did no such thing!"
"Want to bet Fatso," she continued walking over to her suitcase and removing a torn piece of paper, "Lady cat wanted to discipline, while at the same time being very nice to two gentleman cats." she read narrowing her eyes and staring straight a him. "For the right lady cat this will be a very easy job and you will make a lot of money. Oh yes, you should also be able to show a small girl kitten how the job is done."
"Squigman," Dweezil roared, "knowing full well we have an innocent little kitten living with us, why did you place an advertisement (pronounced with a soft i) for a hooker?"
"I didn't."
"Well if you didn't and I certainly didn't who.." and he didn't have to finish that thought. Because all of a sudden he knew.
"Annabelle, explain yourself," he commanded.
"Well," she stammered, wringing her paws, "I just thought that once you met the lady cat, you'd like her and you two would stop arguing all the time and we could have a real home."
"Ahh, the lady cat said looking somehow softer and less threatening, "those two baboons weren't looking for a good time you were looking for a mom, am I right?"
"I'm sorry, Miss Trixie," Annie said softly nodding her head in the affirmative.
"So am I kiddo, " she answered kissing the top of her head, "so am I."
"I want the small female cat to go to her room this instant and I want the large female cat to crawl back under whatever rock she crawled out of and leave here at once " Dweezil commanded pointing to the door.
"Dweeze, this was just a mistake and I'm sure there was no real harm done," Squig chuckled as he picked up Trixie's suitcase and helped her out the door.
"You know, "he whispered, hoping that Dweezil couldn't hear "You really had me going there for
a few minutes, but now that we know it was all a mistake, maybe sometime if you're free we could?"
"Here's my card," she smiled call me anytime.
"I might just do that," he answered shutting the door.
"Squigman," Dweezil pronounced, heading back to the kitchen, "I heard that.
"Oh Fat Boy, eavesdropping were you" Squig chuckled, "This is really pretty funny if you think about it. I don't think we should be too hard on Annie, since it was just one lady cat and no real harm was done."
In the weeks to come, Squig was to find out just wrong he was on both accounts.
TO BE CONTINUED
Sunday, October 13, 2013
And Boils Over Part 1
As if on cue, Annie looked up from her book and saw her daddies standing in the doorway. At least she thought they were her daddies. One definitely was. One was definitely Daddy Dweezil, but the other? "OMG," she thought to herself as she stuffed her paw into her mouth to keep from having hysterics. The cat with the purple pompadour on the top of his head and the fried whiskers, had to be her Daddy Squig. What on earth had he done to himself.
"Oh Annabelle," Daddy Dweezil said dragging Daddy Squig into the room. "Your father, Squigman and I have had discussed your Lady Cat suggestion in a dignified and rational manner and have decided that things are fine just the way they are."
Annie noticed that Daddy Squig was clenching and unclenching his claws while Daddy Dweezil had been speaking. Were his claws actually painted? Her jaw dropped while she watched him.
"And so, " Daddy Dweezil continued, we do not need to find a Lady Cat border."
"But what if I have an embarrassing question? Who's going to sit me down and answer my questions?" she asked innocently.
"Why, your Father Squigman will be happy to answer any question you may have." Dweezil said benignly smiling over at Squig. He's just full of all sorts of helpful information."
"Me," Squig shrieked, "Why do I have the answers to embarrassing questions? Weren't you the one with that story about all the little muffins in the tin?"
"Because you, " Dweezil answered airily, always have something to say about everything."
"If you will recall," Squig shot back punctuating each word with a jab to Dweezil's chest. "At the time you told me that I was as subtle as a game show host looking for a four letter word for procreation, first letter f and it rhymes with luck."
"That's right take the low road," Dweezil sneered, crossing his paws in front of his chest. "The low and common road."
"I'll show you the low road." Squig hissed and I'm going to kick you butt down every inch of it."
Annie stopped trying to figure out what a four letter word for procreation was and decided that if plan A was not going to work, she was going to be forced to put alternate plan B into action. So later that evening, after her daddies had left for the night, she crept into the study and went to the computer. Turning it on and clicking on the caternet icon, she went straight to Louis' List and placed the following ad under the Personals Heading.
Lady Cat wanted. Must be able to discipline, while being very nice to two grumpy Gentlemen Cats. For the right Lady Cat, this will be a very easy job and you will make lots of money. Oh yes, she should also be able to show a Girl Kitten how the job is done.
Satisfied with her ad, Annie clicked on send, turned off the computer and went to bed, confident that help was on the way.
"Oh Annabelle," Daddy Dweezil said dragging Daddy Squig into the room. "Your father, Squigman and I have had discussed your Lady Cat suggestion in a dignified and rational manner and have decided that things are fine just the way they are."
Annie noticed that Daddy Squig was clenching and unclenching his claws while Daddy Dweezil had been speaking. Were his claws actually painted? Her jaw dropped while she watched him.
"And so, " Daddy Dweezil continued, we do not need to find a Lady Cat border."
"But what if I have an embarrassing question? Who's going to sit me down and answer my questions?" she asked innocently.
"Why, your Father Squigman will be happy to answer any question you may have." Dweezil said benignly smiling over at Squig. He's just full of all sorts of helpful information."
"Me," Squig shrieked, "Why do I have the answers to embarrassing questions? Weren't you the one with that story about all the little muffins in the tin?"
"Because you, " Dweezil answered airily, always have something to say about everything."
"If you will recall," Squig shot back punctuating each word with a jab to Dweezil's chest. "At the time you told me that I was as subtle as a game show host looking for a four letter word for procreation, first letter f and it rhymes with luck."
"That's right take the low road," Dweezil sneered, crossing his paws in front of his chest. "The low and common road."
"I'll show you the low road." Squig hissed and I'm going to kick you butt down every inch of it."
Annie stopped trying to figure out what a four letter word for procreation was and decided that if plan A was not going to work, she was going to be forced to put alternate plan B into action. So later that evening, after her daddies had left for the night, she crept into the study and went to the computer. Turning it on and clicking on the caternet icon, she went straight to Louis' List and placed the following ad under the Personals Heading.
Lady Cat wanted. Must be able to discipline, while being very nice to two grumpy Gentlemen Cats. For the right Lady Cat, this will be a very easy job and you will make lots of money. Oh yes, she should also be able to show a Girl Kitten how the job is done.
Satisfied with her ad, Annie clicked on send, turned off the computer and went to bed, confident that help was on the way.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
The Plot Thickens Part 3
The cat formerly known as Dweezil crossed his paws in front of his chest and eyed Squig up and down, assessing his look.
"Well," he finally said, "your lady cat certainly wasn't exaggerating your lack of style. In fact I can see that she was down playing the situation. You are," he continued circling, around Squig with a predatory swagger, "as well as being a slob and a hot mess, completely out of style. But we can fix that.
"Oh you can, can you," Squig shot back. "Well did anybody tell you that my "lady cat," is very quickly going to find herself in the nut house if all of this crap doesn't come to a screaming stop."
"My, my," Dweezil tut tutted, "she did warn me that you might be recalcitrant and stuck in your ways, but I assured her that I have dealt with situations like this and I can certainly deal with you." And with that, before Squig had time to react, Dweezil slammed him into a chair and belted him down. Then with a dramatic flourish he wrapped an apron around Squig's neck, tightening it the the point Squig could hardly breathe. Next, he pressed down on each paw, until Squig extended his claws and tied them down.
"Be right back," he sang out as Squig squiggled and squirmed in his chair. This was wrong. This was all wrong. Dweezil was the looney who should be strapped in a straight jacket, not him. He was the sane one. How had this gone wrong and what on earth was he going to do about it.
But, he did not have long to ponder his problem, as Dweezil arrived, humming a cheerful tune and pushing a cart full of fur dressing accessories. Before Squig had time to say what the ...... Dweezil pounced and commenced gluing, teasing, curling, shaving and painting. Then he sprayed Squig from head to tail with some kind of horrible perfumed shellac. Stepping back to admire his work, he said "Oh if you aren't the picture of style now. Let me go and get a mirror and show you how wonderful you look."
He then pushed the chair in front of a full length mirror covered by a black, silky, fabric. Untying Squig, he whipped the cloth off the mirror so Squig could admire the new do. What Squig did was stand open mouthed in horror at the abomination staring back at him from the mirror. That cat had a purple fake fur formation glued to the top of his head. Every whisker was curled. Half of them facing left and half facing right. Each claw was painted a different fluorescent color. And the word D'Weze was shaved down his back. He sank back in the chair momentarily speechless.
Then slowly he stood and slowly he turned to face Dweezil. "I am going to kill you," he hissed, puffing himself up to twice his size. What do you mean shaving that stupid name in my my fur, you miserable."
"A great artist always signs his work, " Dweezil said flatly, examining his claws.
"You are not a great artist," Squig shrieked. "You are Dweezil the cat."
"That may be" he responded, "But you my friend are officially now a doodad and you owe me ten."
"Well," he finally said, "your lady cat certainly wasn't exaggerating your lack of style. In fact I can see that she was down playing the situation. You are," he continued circling, around Squig with a predatory swagger, "as well as being a slob and a hot mess, completely out of style. But we can fix that.
"Oh you can, can you," Squig shot back. "Well did anybody tell you that my "lady cat," is very quickly going to find herself in the nut house if all of this crap doesn't come to a screaming stop."
"My, my," Dweezil tut tutted, "she did warn me that you might be recalcitrant and stuck in your ways, but I assured her that I have dealt with situations like this and I can certainly deal with you." And with that, before Squig had time to react, Dweezil slammed him into a chair and belted him down. Then with a dramatic flourish he wrapped an apron around Squig's neck, tightening it the the point Squig could hardly breathe. Next, he pressed down on each paw, until Squig extended his claws and tied them down.
"Be right back," he sang out as Squig squiggled and squirmed in his chair. This was wrong. This was all wrong. Dweezil was the looney who should be strapped in a straight jacket, not him. He was the sane one. How had this gone wrong and what on earth was he going to do about it.
But, he did not have long to ponder his problem, as Dweezil arrived, humming a cheerful tune and pushing a cart full of fur dressing accessories. Before Squig had time to say what the ...... Dweezil pounced and commenced gluing, teasing, curling, shaving and painting. Then he sprayed Squig from head to tail with some kind of horrible perfumed shellac. Stepping back to admire his work, he said "Oh if you aren't the picture of style now. Let me go and get a mirror and show you how wonderful you look."
He then pushed the chair in front of a full length mirror covered by a black, silky, fabric. Untying Squig, he whipped the cloth off the mirror so Squig could admire the new do. What Squig did was stand open mouthed in horror at the abomination staring back at him from the mirror. That cat had a purple fake fur formation glued to the top of his head. Every whisker was curled. Half of them facing left and half facing right. Each claw was painted a different fluorescent color. And the word D'Weze was shaved down his back. He sank back in the chair momentarily speechless.
Then slowly he stood and slowly he turned to face Dweezil. "I am going to kill you," he hissed, puffing himself up to twice his size. What do you mean shaving that stupid name in my my fur, you miserable."
"A great artist always signs his work, " Dweezil said flatly, examining his claws.
"You are not a great artist," Squig shrieked. "You are Dweezil the cat."
"That may be" he responded, "But you my friend are officially now a doodad and you owe me ten."
Sunday, September 29, 2013
The Plot Thickens - Part 2
"Now just wait right here and don't go anywhere," Dweezil commanded shiftily as he left the kitchen.
"Now where does he think I would go?" Squig asked himself sarcastically. He knew that whatever was coming was going to be one of Dweezil's better efforts, but this time it would be different. This time he would be prepared and ready. Nothing Dweezil could do would shock him.
Nothing except exactly what Dweezil did, arrive back in the kitchen wearing a cabbage rose print sun dress, a jaunty straw hat with streaming pink ribbons, bright pink lipstick and false eyelashes.
"Oh Squigman, sweety pie," he lisped as he minced over to where Squig stood wide eyed in shocked horror. "I ran into Merlot and Miewsette down at the fur salon, and we got into a discussion about our gentleman cats and how they had let themselves go" He purred, sidling up to Squig and batting his false eyelashes for emphasis.
Recovering quickly, Squig backed away and answered very cleverly, if he did think so himself, "Oh you did, did you Dweezette, and just else, besides your gentlemen cats, did you girls talk about?"
And so while Dweezil chattered cheerfully away about gentleman cats and fur styles, Squig was busily picturing the padded cell into which he was going to install him. It would be a lovely place where the costume du jour would of course be a straight jacket. But wait, what about the Dweeze's love of hats. Well maybe with enough advanced notice, they could fine one with a hoodie. And in his interludes of sanity, Dweezil could personalize it. He almost fell down in hysterics visualizing Dweezil in straight jacket with a hoodie festooned in feathers and spackled over in sequins.
He was so busy congratulating himself on his clever solution to this little problem that he almost missed Dweezil saying something about a little surprise and a special guest. He looked up just in time to see him blowing little kisses and twirling out the door.
He immediately ran over to the computer, pulled up the Baltimore Yellow Pages and started looking up the phone number for a place to send Dweezil. Nut house didn't seem to be the correct term and so he tried loony bin. When that didn't work either, he started frantically thinking up every word he knew that meant crazy. He was so busy at it, that he almost missed Dweezil's grand entrance.
"Yo bro," he sneered as Squig looked up from the computer.
"Ok, " he answered, "I'll bite. Who am I dealing with now?
"I," he replied, humbly placing a paw on his chest, "am D'Weze, fur dresser to the stars."
TO BE CONTINUED
"Now where does he think I would go?" Squig asked himself sarcastically. He knew that whatever was coming was going to be one of Dweezil's better efforts, but this time it would be different. This time he would be prepared and ready. Nothing Dweezil could do would shock him.
Nothing except exactly what Dweezil did, arrive back in the kitchen wearing a cabbage rose print sun dress, a jaunty straw hat with streaming pink ribbons, bright pink lipstick and false eyelashes.
"Oh Squigman, sweety pie," he lisped as he minced over to where Squig stood wide eyed in shocked horror. "I ran into Merlot and Miewsette down at the fur salon, and we got into a discussion about our gentleman cats and how they had let themselves go" He purred, sidling up to Squig and batting his false eyelashes for emphasis.
Recovering quickly, Squig backed away and answered very cleverly, if he did think so himself, "Oh you did, did you Dweezette, and just else, besides your gentlemen cats, did you girls talk about?"
And so while Dweezil chattered cheerfully away about gentleman cats and fur styles, Squig was busily picturing the padded cell into which he was going to install him. It would be a lovely place where the costume du jour would of course be a straight jacket. But wait, what about the Dweeze's love of hats. Well maybe with enough advanced notice, they could fine one with a hoodie. And in his interludes of sanity, Dweezil could personalize it. He almost fell down in hysterics visualizing Dweezil in straight jacket with a hoodie festooned in feathers and spackled over in sequins.
He was so busy congratulating himself on his clever solution to this little problem that he almost missed Dweezil saying something about a little surprise and a special guest. He looked up just in time to see him blowing little kisses and twirling out the door.
He immediately ran over to the computer, pulled up the Baltimore Yellow Pages and started looking up the phone number for a place to send Dweezil. Nut house didn't seem to be the correct term and so he tried loony bin. When that didn't work either, he started frantically thinking up every word he knew that meant crazy. He was so busy at it, that he almost missed Dweezil's grand entrance.
"Yo bro," he sneered as Squig looked up from the computer.
"Ok, " he answered, "I'll bite. Who am I dealing with now?
"I," he replied, humbly placing a paw on his chest, "am D'Weze, fur dresser to the stars."
TO BE CONTINUED
Sunday, September 15, 2013
The Plot Thickens
"Daddies," Annie asked innocently, putting her front paws behind her back and crossing her claws for good luck. They were all sitting in the den and her Daddy Dweezil was reading the paper while her Daddy Squig watched TV.
"Yes, dear?" Dweezil asked putting down his paper and neatly folding it up.
"What do you mean, safe," Squig squawked while jumping up and down in his seat."You blind moron, the runner is out. Anybody can see that he's out. Is everybody on the field asleep. Why isn't somebody protesting that call!"
"Ahem, Squigman," Dweezil interjected,"Annabelle has something that she'd like to ask us. Go right ahead Sweet Pea, now what did you want to say."
"Yeah, Annie what's up." Squig asked turning his attention away from the blind moron and runner who was clearly out.
"Well," she began, "I would like to suggest, that it might be nice, if we sort of, you know, kind of like invited a lady cat to come over and stay with us."
"A what," Dweezil and Squig asked in unison.
"You know," Annie squeaked, "A grown up girl cat..."
"Oh Squigman," Dweezil asked innocently, "might I have a word with you in private?"
"Oh sure, Dweeze," Squig answered hopping and following Dweezil down the hall and into the kitchen.
"There will be no lady cats living in this house!" Dweezil pronounced banging his paw down on the counter for emphasis.
"But Dweeze," Squig interjected wanting to point out the obvious, that their Annie was going to be a lady cat in a few short years.
" Do you know what they call two or more lady cats gathered together? Dweezil asked narrowing his eyes and twitching his tail.
"No." Squig answered shaking his head.
" A lynch, that's what they call them. A lynch of lady cats. A lynch as in a lynch mob, because that's what those lady cats are compelled to do, string up some poor unsuspecting gentleman cat and change his life forever."
"Now how do they do that, Dweeze."
"It all starts with doodads." Dweezil explained, "Each lady cat comes complete with doodads and if you don't see them right away, it's not because they're not there. She's just got them hidden .You see doodad hiding is part of her sneaky and devious nature.
"It all starts off innocently enough," he continued expansively, warming up to his subject. "We'll come home one morning from a fine nights hunting, and there it will be, one innocent, innocuous looking doodad. But don't be fooled my friend, no don't be fooled. Because while we are sleeping, that one innocent, innocuous doodad will have spawned two others. And then there will be ten doodads cluttering up our house and then two hundred and then two thousand, and before we know it our comfortable abode will have been converted to a shrine to the almighty doodad," Dweezil thundered in tones that would have made an evangelical preacher proud.
"But that's not the worst thing she'll do," he hissed lowering his voice for maximum effect. " You see, that lady cat will not rest until she's turned us into her own personal doodads."
"Now Dweeze, be reasonable." Squig asked, trying to interject some sense into this ridiculous discussion that was quickly spiraling out of control. "How on earth can a lady cat turn me into a doodad?
"Easy," you poor naive thing." Dweezil sighed, shaking his head. "It will have happened before you realize its done."
"No it won't,"
"Want to bet."
"Sure."
"You're on."
TO BE CONTINUED IN TWO WEEKS. GOING ON VACATION.
"Yes, dear?" Dweezil asked putting down his paper and neatly folding it up.
"What do you mean, safe," Squig squawked while jumping up and down in his seat."You blind moron, the runner is out. Anybody can see that he's out. Is everybody on the field asleep. Why isn't somebody protesting that call!"
"Ahem, Squigman," Dweezil interjected,"Annabelle has something that she'd like to ask us. Go right ahead Sweet Pea, now what did you want to say."
"Yeah, Annie what's up." Squig asked turning his attention away from the blind moron and runner who was clearly out.
"Well," she began, "I would like to suggest, that it might be nice, if we sort of, you know, kind of like invited a lady cat to come over and stay with us."
"A what," Dweezil and Squig asked in unison.
"You know," Annie squeaked, "A grown up girl cat..."
"Oh Squigman," Dweezil asked innocently, "might I have a word with you in private?"
"Oh sure, Dweeze," Squig answered hopping and following Dweezil down the hall and into the kitchen.
"There will be no lady cats living in this house!" Dweezil pronounced banging his paw down on the counter for emphasis.
"But Dweeze," Squig interjected wanting to point out the obvious, that their Annie was going to be a lady cat in a few short years.
" Do you know what they call two or more lady cats gathered together? Dweezil asked narrowing his eyes and twitching his tail.
"No." Squig answered shaking his head.
" A lynch, that's what they call them. A lynch of lady cats. A lynch as in a lynch mob, because that's what those lady cats are compelled to do, string up some poor unsuspecting gentleman cat and change his life forever."
"Now how do they do that, Dweeze."
"It all starts with doodads." Dweezil explained, "Each lady cat comes complete with doodads and if you don't see them right away, it's not because they're not there. She's just got them hidden .You see doodad hiding is part of her sneaky and devious nature.
"It all starts off innocently enough," he continued expansively, warming up to his subject. "We'll come home one morning from a fine nights hunting, and there it will be, one innocent, innocuous looking doodad. But don't be fooled my friend, no don't be fooled. Because while we are sleeping, that one innocent, innocuous doodad will have spawned two others. And then there will be ten doodads cluttering up our house and then two hundred and then two thousand, and before we know it our comfortable abode will have been converted to a shrine to the almighty doodad," Dweezil thundered in tones that would have made an evangelical preacher proud.
"But that's not the worst thing she'll do," he hissed lowering his voice for maximum effect. " You see, that lady cat will not rest until she's turned us into her own personal doodads."
"Now Dweeze, be reasonable." Squig asked, trying to interject some sense into this ridiculous discussion that was quickly spiraling out of control. "How on earth can a lady cat turn me into a doodad?
"Easy," you poor naive thing." Dweezil sighed, shaking his head. "It will have happened before you realize its done."
"No it won't,"
"Want to bet."
"Sure."
"You're on."
TO BE CONTINUED IN TWO WEEKS. GOING ON VACATION.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
A Rose By Any Other Name...Or Whatever
Hmm. Dweezil cleared his throat in order to get Annie's attention. Good child that she was, she was hard at work studying,"Mousing 101."
"Hmm.hmm, hmm," Dweezil tried again, a little louder and a whole lot more strident.
"Yes, Daddy Dweezil," Annie asked looking up from her book.
"Well, " he began, sitting down and wrapping his tail around his legs, "Since your father, Squigman, and I have basically adopted you, I was thinking that maybe we should do something about your name."
"But I like my name," she protested. "It's my name and I like it."
"Now, now, " Dweezil continued pointing a claw in her direction. " Don't make a decision until you've heard my suggestion. What would you say to us changing your name to Lady Annabelle of Inwood? Doesn't that have a lovely, phonetic ring to it?"
"Not as lovely and phonetic as Annie Igmewkowski," Squig interjected walking into the room. Annie Igmewkowski, now that's what I call a name."
"Yes," Dweezil said snarkily, "Annie Igmewkowski is certainly what someone like you would call a name."
"Well what's wrong with it?"
"Igmewkowski is a very lowww and common name. I wouldn't hesitate to say," he continued, closely examining his claws, "that you could search the whole world over and never find a noble anything, named Igmewkowski."
"At least I have a last name,"Squig hissed, laying back his ears, "Sir Dweezil of the barnyard."
"Oh yes," Dweezil hissed right back, coming face to face with Squig, "You couldn't even find an earthworm or an amoeba willing to be called Igmewkowski. That name is so low class."
"So says Sir Dweezil of the poop pile."
"Why you miserable little rodent."
"What, I'm no longer the traitorous snake? Having trouble coming up with adjectives to describe me?" Squig answered pleasantly. I can certainly describe you. You're a a big fat phony."
"Daddies," Annie squeaked, not realizing they were a wonderful time Stop fighting this instant. " It was no good. She was outnumbered. How could one small girl kitten keep two gentlemen cats in line. She needed help. She needed an ally. She needed a lady cat.
"Hmm.hmm, hmm," Dweezil tried again, a little louder and a whole lot more strident.
"Yes, Daddy Dweezil," Annie asked looking up from her book.
"Well, " he began, sitting down and wrapping his tail around his legs, "Since your father, Squigman, and I have basically adopted you, I was thinking that maybe we should do something about your name."
"But I like my name," she protested. "It's my name and I like it."
"Now, now, " Dweezil continued pointing a claw in her direction. " Don't make a decision until you've heard my suggestion. What would you say to us changing your name to Lady Annabelle of Inwood? Doesn't that have a lovely, phonetic ring to it?"
"Not as lovely and phonetic as Annie Igmewkowski," Squig interjected walking into the room. Annie Igmewkowski, now that's what I call a name."
"Yes," Dweezil said snarkily, "Annie Igmewkowski is certainly what someone like you would call a name."
"Well what's wrong with it?"
"Igmewkowski is a very lowww and common name. I wouldn't hesitate to say," he continued, closely examining his claws, "that you could search the whole world over and never find a noble anything, named Igmewkowski."
"At least I have a last name,"Squig hissed, laying back his ears, "Sir Dweezil of the barnyard."
"Oh yes," Dweezil hissed right back, coming face to face with Squig, "You couldn't even find an earthworm or an amoeba willing to be called Igmewkowski. That name is so low class."
"So says Sir Dweezil of the poop pile."
"Why you miserable little rodent."
"What, I'm no longer the traitorous snake? Having trouble coming up with adjectives to describe me?" Squig answered pleasantly. I can certainly describe you. You're a a big fat phony."
"Daddies," Annie squeaked, not realizing they were a wonderful time Stop fighting this instant. " It was no good. She was outnumbered. How could one small girl kitten keep two gentlemen cats in line. She needed help. She needed an ally. She needed a lady cat.
Sunday, August 18, 2013
M. Dweezil's Ecole de Charme - Part 3
Dweezil smiled over at Annie. "Well are you ready to try your table manners?
"Oh yes, Daddy Dweezil, I'm ready."
"Daddy Dweezil," he thought happily to himself, drawing his paws to his chest. "She said Daddy Dweezil. She didn't say Daddies or Daddy Dweezil and Daddy Squigman, she only said Daddy Dweezil."
This observation was not lost on Squig who was sulking in the corner, pretending complete disinterest in the whole thing.
"Now if my off the air assistant will please bring the food bowl out." he instructed as a large pink bowl of wet cat food materialized. "When you're ready Annabelle, let's see how a little lady eats her dinner."
Dweezil was horrified to watch Annie scrunch down, wiggle her butt, and without further ado launch herself over the desk, landing with all four feet in the bowl. His shock intensified as she buried her face in the food, messing up her carefully tied bowl.
"Annabelle," he squawked, what are you doing? You are supposed to be eating like a lady, like a Dweezil Do."
"Oh yes, she said with her mouth full of food, "Chicken, I definitely smell chicken. It has the bouquet of a whole bunch of chickens. And it has the flavor of a whole bunch of chickens with maybe a rooster tossed in for spiciness."
"No, no, no," Dweezil shrieked That is not right. " Did you learn nothing from my instructive Dweezil Do film."
And with that Squig turned to face the camera and said happily. "That's my little girl, folks. Isn't she a pistol?"
Dweezil however, took off his beret and buried his face in his paws. It was obviously going to be a very long, uphill slug fest, turning this little hooligan into a proper cat.
"Oh yes, Daddy Dweezil, I'm ready."
"Daddy Dweezil," he thought happily to himself, drawing his paws to his chest. "She said Daddy Dweezil. She didn't say Daddies or Daddy Dweezil and Daddy Squigman, she only said Daddy Dweezil."
This observation was not lost on Squig who was sulking in the corner, pretending complete disinterest in the whole thing.
"Now if my off the air assistant will please bring the food bowl out." he instructed as a large pink bowl of wet cat food materialized. "When you're ready Annabelle, let's see how a little lady eats her dinner."
Dweezil was horrified to watch Annie scrunch down, wiggle her butt, and without further ado launch herself over the desk, landing with all four feet in the bowl. His shock intensified as she buried her face in the food, messing up her carefully tied bowl.
"Annabelle," he squawked, what are you doing? You are supposed to be eating like a lady, like a Dweezil Do."
"Oh yes, she said with her mouth full of food, "Chicken, I definitely smell chicken. It has the bouquet of a whole bunch of chickens. And it has the flavor of a whole bunch of chickens with maybe a rooster tossed in for spiciness."
"No, no, no," Dweezil shrieked That is not right. " Did you learn nothing from my instructive Dweezil Do film."
And with that Squig turned to face the camera and said happily. "That's my little girl, folks. Isn't she a pistol?"
Dweezil however, took off his beret and buried his face in his paws. It was obviously going to be a very long, uphill slug fest, turning this little hooligan into a proper cat.
Sunday, August 11, 2013
M. Dweezil's Ecole de Charme - Part 2
"You traitorous snake," Dweezil hissed, "you wouldn't dare."
"Oh wouldn't I, Squig hissed back. "And as far as being a snake, you bet I am. I'm the great big boa constrictor hiding in the tree waiting for your fat weasely butt to come by and then I'm going to drop down on you and start, choking."
And with that the fight began in earnest.
"Daddies!," Annie screamed running up to them. Stop that right now.
"Daddies?" Squig thought in mid choke.
Daddies?" Dweezil thought in mid chomp.
"Daddies!" they said in unison, turning their heads to stare straight at Annie in shocked disbelieve.
"Yes, daddies," Annie remarked, primly. It makes kittens upset to see their daddies fight. Now shake paws and say you're sorry."
Squig spit out the words first, without feeling any remorse at all. He was followed by Dweezil, who muttered something about traitorous snakes under his breath.
"That doesn't sound like an I'm sorry to me." Annie admonished. You try it again. Now shake paws and say you're sorry.
"I'm sorry," they both said slowly and shook paws with a decided lack of enthusiasm.
Retrieving his beret and turning to face the camera, which he sincerelty hoped had not been filming this entire time, said, "Well now that we have seen the Dweezil don't of table manners, let's turn our attention to the Dweezil Do, featuring, you guessed it, me."
"Why am I not surprised," Squig said under his breath, garnishing him a stick eye from Annie.
"Now said Dweezil, notice how I am patiently waiting for the food to come to me. See the lack of interest I am displaying, as if food is the last thing on my mind. Once it has been placed in my bowl and set near me and only after several seconds of my human telling me how wonderful it is and begging me to eat, do I slowly walk up to the bowl. Now I sniff the entree, taking in the bouquet. Ah, I believe it was chicken and tomato. Next I take a sip of the broth and savor the flavors. And finally when each of these steps has been completed, do I condensed to take the first bite. Hmm, delicious I seem to be saying.
And smiling into the camera, Dweezil purrs happily, "Bon Apetite."
TO BE CONTINUED
"Oh wouldn't I, Squig hissed back. "And as far as being a snake, you bet I am. I'm the great big boa constrictor hiding in the tree waiting for your fat weasely butt to come by and then I'm going to drop down on you and start, choking."
And with that the fight began in earnest.
"Daddies!," Annie screamed running up to them. Stop that right now.
"Daddies?" Squig thought in mid choke.
Daddies?" Dweezil thought in mid chomp.
"Daddies!" they said in unison, turning their heads to stare straight at Annie in shocked disbelieve.
"Yes, daddies," Annie remarked, primly. It makes kittens upset to see their daddies fight. Now shake paws and say you're sorry."
Squig spit out the words first, without feeling any remorse at all. He was followed by Dweezil, who muttered something about traitorous snakes under his breath.
"That doesn't sound like an I'm sorry to me." Annie admonished. You try it again. Now shake paws and say you're sorry.
"I'm sorry," they both said slowly and shook paws with a decided lack of enthusiasm.
Retrieving his beret and turning to face the camera, which he sincerelty hoped had not been filming this entire time, said, "Well now that we have seen the Dweezil don't of table manners, let's turn our attention to the Dweezil Do, featuring, you guessed it, me."
"Why am I not surprised," Squig said under his breath, garnishing him a stick eye from Annie.
"Now said Dweezil, notice how I am patiently waiting for the food to come to me. See the lack of interest I am displaying, as if food is the last thing on my mind. Once it has been placed in my bowl and set near me and only after several seconds of my human telling me how wonderful it is and begging me to eat, do I slowly walk up to the bowl. Now I sniff the entree, taking in the bouquet. Ah, I believe it was chicken and tomato. Next I take a sip of the broth and savor the flavors. And finally when each of these steps has been completed, do I condensed to take the first bite. Hmm, delicious I seem to be saying.
And smiling into the camera, Dweezil purrs happily, "Bon Apetite."
TO BE CONTINUED
Sunday, July 28, 2013
M. Dweezil's Ecole de Charme - Part 1
Squig walked into the kitchen and was shocked. He wasn't sure why. By now he should be immune to Dweezil's antics, But somehow they always managed to take him by surprise. Today, Dweeze was marching around in a stupid looking beret and there was a large film screen set up in one corner. Someone was helping him again, but who? Now if he was Dweeze, he would be putting on a Sherlock Holmes hat and marching around with a pipe muttering things like, "Elementary, my dear Squigman."
Drumming his claws on the floor, he thought about it for awhile as he took in all of the particulars of this latest insanity. There was Dweezil marching around looking officious and there was little Annie, sitting primly behind a small desk. She had a large pink bow tied around her neck and was looking expectantly at Dweeze.
He had actually roped Annie into his latest delusion and this would not do at all. Just at the point, Squig was about to march in there and drag her back into the real world. Dweezil opened his mouth and began.
"Good morning young ladies throughout the world wide web and our current studio student, Miss Snowballinsky. Today's topic is table manners."
All of this was said with a stupid Pepe le Peu phony French accent and Squig made gagging noises under his breath.
"Today, " Dweezil continued, "I am going to introduce you to our very first Dweezil Don't, mystery cat Mr. S.I., and together we are going to observe his horrific table manners. In case you need to review our film,we will very soon be posting it on You Tube under the heading M. Dweezil's Don'ts. So, if our behind the scenes assistant would be so kind as to start the film we can now commence our lesson.
Firstly I would like you to notice the obnoxious way he is weaving between his human's legs. He is never letting up, applying constant pressure. This will not get you fed any faster," he instructed. " In fact it has the opposite effect on humans. In annoys them into slowing down."
Squig paced back and forth, trying to figure out how to sneak Annie out while Dweezil was busy acting like an ass.
"Just listen to Mr. S.I.'s annoying screech." Dweezil commented. It says to the whole world, I'm needy and desperate. And I want to make it perfectly clear, that these are two characteristics a cat never want's applied to him or herself"
He waived his paw in the air and smiled into the camera. "Let's turn the sound up louder, so we can all catch the desperation in that voice."
Squig snapped to attention. He knew that voice and when the sound was amplified, he knew exactly who mystery cat, Mr. S.I was. It was him, Mr. Squigman Igmewkowski. His ears went back and his eyes narrowed into slits as he turned to watch the rest of the film that was soon to be on You Tube.
"Now watch, " Dweezil tut, tutted, as the cat on the screen launched himself onto the counter. "He is now putting his paws, which have been heaven know where, on a newly sanitized counter. Disgraceful. Watch as he knocks his head into the spoon. Appalling. Just listen as slurps and chomps. Nasty. And for the coup de grace of repulsiveness, just look at his face as he manages to lift it out of the bowl."
Horrified, Sqig watched as on the screen, he lifted his open mouth out of the bowl and dripped half chewed food onto the counter top. He got to see it again as Dweeze order the shot zoomed in for a close up of the food falling out of his mouth.
"You dare put that video on You Tube," he roared launching himself at Dweezil, claws extended and paws swinging, "and I'll, I'll.."
"You'll what," Dweezil answered, arching his eyebrows and looking entirely bored. "Do tell us what you'll do. I'm sure the whole world is just chomping at the bit waiting to hear."
Squig sat down and smiled nastily as he knew, for once, exactly what to do. "I will tweet a picture of your butt and underneath it, I will write, "Guess who's overdue for his sanitary cut. First clue. HIS NAME RHYMES WITH WEASEL
TO BE CONTINUE
Drumming his claws on the floor, he thought about it for awhile as he took in all of the particulars of this latest insanity. There was Dweezil marching around looking officious and there was little Annie, sitting primly behind a small desk. She had a large pink bow tied around her neck and was looking expectantly at Dweeze.
He had actually roped Annie into his latest delusion and this would not do at all. Just at the point, Squig was about to march in there and drag her back into the real world. Dweezil opened his mouth and began.
"Good morning young ladies throughout the world wide web and our current studio student, Miss Snowballinsky. Today's topic is table manners."
All of this was said with a stupid Pepe le Peu phony French accent and Squig made gagging noises under his breath.
"Today, " Dweezil continued, "I am going to introduce you to our very first Dweezil Don't, mystery cat Mr. S.I., and together we are going to observe his horrific table manners. In case you need to review our film,we will very soon be posting it on You Tube under the heading M. Dweezil's Don'ts. So, if our behind the scenes assistant would be so kind as to start the film we can now commence our lesson.
Firstly I would like you to notice the obnoxious way he is weaving between his human's legs. He is never letting up, applying constant pressure. This will not get you fed any faster," he instructed. " In fact it has the opposite effect on humans. In annoys them into slowing down."
Squig paced back and forth, trying to figure out how to sneak Annie out while Dweezil was busy acting like an ass.
"Just listen to Mr. S.I.'s annoying screech." Dweezil commented. It says to the whole world, I'm needy and desperate. And I want to make it perfectly clear, that these are two characteristics a cat never want's applied to him or herself"
He waived his paw in the air and smiled into the camera. "Let's turn the sound up louder, so we can all catch the desperation in that voice."
Squig snapped to attention. He knew that voice and when the sound was amplified, he knew exactly who mystery cat, Mr. S.I was. It was him, Mr. Squigman Igmewkowski. His ears went back and his eyes narrowed into slits as he turned to watch the rest of the film that was soon to be on You Tube.
"Now watch, " Dweezil tut, tutted, as the cat on the screen launched himself onto the counter. "He is now putting his paws, which have been heaven know where, on a newly sanitized counter. Disgraceful. Watch as he knocks his head into the spoon. Appalling. Just listen as slurps and chomps. Nasty. And for the coup de grace of repulsiveness, just look at his face as he manages to lift it out of the bowl."
Horrified, Sqig watched as on the screen, he lifted his open mouth out of the bowl and dripped half chewed food onto the counter top. He got to see it again as Dweeze order the shot zoomed in for a close up of the food falling out of his mouth.
"You dare put that video on You Tube," he roared launching himself at Dweezil, claws extended and paws swinging, "and I'll, I'll.."
"You'll what," Dweezil answered, arching his eyebrows and looking entirely bored. "Do tell us what you'll do. I'm sure the whole world is just chomping at the bit waiting to hear."
Squig sat down and smiled nastily as he knew, for once, exactly what to do. "I will tweet a picture of your butt and underneath it, I will write, "Guess who's overdue for his sanitary cut. First clue. HIS NAME RHYMES WITH WEASEL
TO BE CONTINUE
Sunday, July 21, 2013
And Then There Were Three Part 2
"Now the thing to remember about Dweeze," Squig whispered looking down at his small companion,"is that he's very particular. So you have to be on your best behavior at all times when he's around"
"I got it," she chirped happily looking up at him. "I must always remember that the Dweeze thinks he's elegant and refined and that he's very particular."
He was taking her home. What else could he do, leave her out there to starve or be some kind of tasty appetizer for the coyote. It all seemed logical and the right thing to do when they were in the field. But somehow, standing here about to go in the house, ten million nervous worries were attacking from every angle. He knewexactly what Dweezil was capable of when provoked; but trying to figure out just how provoked he was going to be by a new family member, was enough to make him want to go screaming back into the field.
Miss Annabelle Snowbalinski, however had no such worries or nervous trepidation, so she marched confidently into the kitchen, calling out, "Oh Dweeze, come and see me, I'm here."
Squig scrambled after her and arrived just in time to see Dweezil saunter around the corner and stop dead in his tracks as he observed the newcomer.
"So Squigman," he" hissed who or what is this?"
"Hiya Dweeze," She chirped walking up to him. "I'm Annabelle Snowballinski and I'm very pleased to meet cha."
Dweezil's ears went back and his tail started to twitch. He was in the process of puffing himself up to twice his size, when the little interloper looked up at him and said, "Squig's told me all about you."
Squig smacked his paw up against his head. Why hadn't he insisted that she call him Mr. Dweezil. This was not going well at all. He was just at the point of running to her rescue, when she chirped, "but he didn't tell me you were sooo cute."
Dweezil deflated like a balloon and his ears came forward and he curled his tail around his legs.
"You have to be the handsomest cat I've ever seen."
Was she batting her eyelashes at him. Squig was dumbfounded.
"Squig told me you were all elegant and refined. And so I was wondering, if it wasn't too much trouble, if you could show me how to be a lady."
"Oh my dear child," Dweezil cooed, "Of course I can show you how to behave." he purred walking over to her and kissing her ears. "You have just given me a wonderful idea. A knew theme. Perfection. Now there's just one thing. He," Dweezil said pointing a claw in Squig's direction, "may be called Squig. But I am always to be referred to as Mr. Dweezil." he smiled wrapping a paw around her. "Do you understand."
"Oh yes sir. Mr. Dweezil, I understand."
"Good"
Of all of the outcomes Squig could have perceived, this was not on the list. And whenever Dweezil came up with a new 'wonderful idea,' it always meant trouble.
"I got it," she chirped happily looking up at him. "I must always remember that the Dweeze thinks he's elegant and refined and that he's very particular."
He was taking her home. What else could he do, leave her out there to starve or be some kind of tasty appetizer for the coyote. It all seemed logical and the right thing to do when they were in the field. But somehow, standing here about to go in the house, ten million nervous worries were attacking from every angle. He knewexactly what Dweezil was capable of when provoked; but trying to figure out just how provoked he was going to be by a new family member, was enough to make him want to go screaming back into the field.
Miss Annabelle Snowbalinski, however had no such worries or nervous trepidation, so she marched confidently into the kitchen, calling out, "Oh Dweeze, come and see me, I'm here."
Squig scrambled after her and arrived just in time to see Dweezil saunter around the corner and stop dead in his tracks as he observed the newcomer.
"So Squigman," he" hissed who or what is this?"
"Hiya Dweeze," She chirped walking up to him. "I'm Annabelle Snowballinski and I'm very pleased to meet cha."
Dweezil's ears went back and his tail started to twitch. He was in the process of puffing himself up to twice his size, when the little interloper looked up at him and said, "Squig's told me all about you."
Squig smacked his paw up against his head. Why hadn't he insisted that she call him Mr. Dweezil. This was not going well at all. He was just at the point of running to her rescue, when she chirped, "but he didn't tell me you were sooo cute."
Dweezil deflated like a balloon and his ears came forward and he curled his tail around his legs.
"You have to be the handsomest cat I've ever seen."
Was she batting her eyelashes at him. Squig was dumbfounded.
"Squig told me you were all elegant and refined. And so I was wondering, if it wasn't too much trouble, if you could show me how to be a lady."
"Oh my dear child," Dweezil cooed, "Of course I can show you how to behave." he purred walking over to her and kissing her ears. "You have just given me a wonderful idea. A knew theme. Perfection. Now there's just one thing. He," Dweezil said pointing a claw in Squig's direction, "may be called Squig. But I am always to be referred to as Mr. Dweezil." he smiled wrapping a paw around her. "Do you understand."
"Oh yes sir. Mr. Dweezil, I understand."
"Good"
Of all of the outcomes Squig could have perceived, this was not on the list. And whenever Dweezil came up with a new 'wonderful idea,' it always meant trouble.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
And Then There Were Three Part 1
Squig could sense the mouse. He followed it with a type of prey sensing radar hardwired into the brain of each and every cat. Quietly, he tracked it's movements. Silently, he followed it, never taking his senses off it for one minute. And thenl he was close enough. Coiling himself up, he sprang, landing, as expected on the mouse and bumping into something small, white, fluffy and furious. That was not expected.
"That's my mouse," it squeaked. "I caughtted it, now give it to me!"
Squig sat back, taking his time, while inwardly chuckling as he watched the show in front of him. "Well, he began, "if this is your mouse, why do I have it?"
"You have my mouse," It said, laying its tiny ears back and puffing itself up to the size of a respectable snowball, 'because I caughtted it and you stoled it. Now give it to me!"
"OK, OK, let's calm down here" Squig reasoned, "We can find a solution to this problem. Let's suppose I do give this mouse to you. What are you going to do with it?"
"Why, I would rip it to pieces and gobble it down." The kitten replied marching around in attempt to look very scary and ferocious.
"Hmm," Squig said thoughtfully, "and just how many mice have you eaten in the past month, twenty"
It shook its little head no.
"Ten, no. How about five, no. What about two. Have you ripped two mice to pieces and gobbled them down?"
No again.
"Well if you haven't ripped any mice to pieces and gobbled them down, how about birds, no, squirrels, no, rabbits or rats? What about bugs? Have you torn any bugs to pieces?
"No, bugs are gross!"
"Well then what do you eat?
"I eat my special kitten food in my special pink kitten bowl."
"OK, so here's what we're going to do." Squig laughed, lifting one paw and planting it firmly on the kittens back, holding it down while lifting the other paw to free the mouse. "We're going to let this mouse go and then I 'm going to walk you home, so you can eat some of your special kitten food in your special pink kitten bowl."
"No," it said miserably. You can't walk me home. I don't have a home."
"Everybody has a home," Squig replied kindly, and I'll bet you'll recognize it the minute you see it. I also bet your humans are out looking for you right this minute. They're probably really worried, so let's get going."
"No they're not. They dropped me off in this field this morning and told me I had to live here now. Then they drove away."
Squig was shocked. This was a development he had not foreseen and it troubled him, greatly.
TO BE CONTINUED
"That's my mouse," it squeaked. "I caughtted it, now give it to me!"
Squig sat back, taking his time, while inwardly chuckling as he watched the show in front of him. "Well, he began, "if this is your mouse, why do I have it?"
"You have my mouse," It said, laying its tiny ears back and puffing itself up to the size of a respectable snowball, 'because I caughtted it and you stoled it. Now give it to me!"
"OK, OK, let's calm down here" Squig reasoned, "We can find a solution to this problem. Let's suppose I do give this mouse to you. What are you going to do with it?"
"Why, I would rip it to pieces and gobble it down." The kitten replied marching around in attempt to look very scary and ferocious.
"Hmm," Squig said thoughtfully, "and just how many mice have you eaten in the past month, twenty"
It shook its little head no.
"Ten, no. How about five, no. What about two. Have you ripped two mice to pieces and gobbled them down?"
No again.
"Well if you haven't ripped any mice to pieces and gobbled them down, how about birds, no, squirrels, no, rabbits or rats? What about bugs? Have you torn any bugs to pieces?
"No, bugs are gross!"
"Well then what do you eat?
"I eat my special kitten food in my special pink kitten bowl."
"OK, so here's what we're going to do." Squig laughed, lifting one paw and planting it firmly on the kittens back, holding it down while lifting the other paw to free the mouse. "We're going to let this mouse go and then I 'm going to walk you home, so you can eat some of your special kitten food in your special pink kitten bowl."
"No," it said miserably. You can't walk me home. I don't have a home."
"Everybody has a home," Squig replied kindly, and I'll bet you'll recognize it the minute you see it. I also bet your humans are out looking for you right this minute. They're probably really worried, so let's get going."
"No they're not. They dropped me off in this field this morning and told me I had to live here now. Then they drove away."
Squig was shocked. This was a development he had not foreseen and it troubled him, greatly.
TO BE CONTINUED
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
And Now a Word From Their Sponsor
Hi all, not to worry. The boys will be back. As we speak, they're cooking up all sorts of mayhem and God only knows what they'll be getting into.
The reason why they've been absent, is that I have been crazy busy. Work is intense. I've had a few photo jobs and Kitt has sweet itch. Now before all of you XXX'rs get all worked up. Sweet itch is not a feminine hygiene problem, nor is it my good idea for a porno film. It's an equine skin condition. Kitt is allergic to gnats and since we've been having a wet spring, her coat is a mess. So, every evening after work and twice on the weekends, I go out to the barn to treat it. Forget riding her, until this issue clears up, my equine activities revolve around spraying calm coat, treating her raw areas with antibiotic, anti fungal creams and then rubbing in the fly spray.
It seems that Kitt isn't the only horse with this lovely condition. A friend of mine's Arabian has it so badly that she went and invested in a fly coat. That worked for about a half an hour and then Glory rolled and ripped it to pieces. So she's back to the daily routine. Question, do you guys out west have this issue, or are you living in a gnatless paradise, in which case I hate you. Just kidding.
Oh yes, the other thing I've been up to is going to graduation parties. Would someone like to tell me when did the thank you note go extinct. Back in the early neolithic when I graduated from high school, if one of my parent's friends had written me a check and enclosed it in a card with a cute picture of yours truly on the front of it; after I fainted from shock, I would have written a thank you note. Because I would have gone nowhere or done nothing until I did.
Stay tuned. They will be back
The reason why they've been absent, is that I have been crazy busy. Work is intense. I've had a few photo jobs and Kitt has sweet itch. Now before all of you XXX'rs get all worked up. Sweet itch is not a feminine hygiene problem, nor is it my good idea for a porno film. It's an equine skin condition. Kitt is allergic to gnats and since we've been having a wet spring, her coat is a mess. So, every evening after work and twice on the weekends, I go out to the barn to treat it. Forget riding her, until this issue clears up, my equine activities revolve around spraying calm coat, treating her raw areas with antibiotic, anti fungal creams and then rubbing in the fly spray.
It seems that Kitt isn't the only horse with this lovely condition. A friend of mine's Arabian has it so badly that she went and invested in a fly coat. That worked for about a half an hour and then Glory rolled and ripped it to pieces. So she's back to the daily routine. Question, do you guys out west have this issue, or are you living in a gnatless paradise, in which case I hate you. Just kidding.
Oh yes, the other thing I've been up to is going to graduation parties. Would someone like to tell me when did the thank you note go extinct. Back in the early neolithic when I graduated from high school, if one of my parent's friends had written me a check and enclosed it in a card with a cute picture of yours truly on the front of it; after I fainted from shock, I would have written a thank you note. Because I would have gone nowhere or done nothing until I did.
Stay tuned. They will be back
Sunday, May 26, 2013
In the Kitchen with Dweezil and Squig Part 4
"Oh my heavens, what have I done," Dweezil exclaimed in mock horror as he accidentally on purpose knocked the entire contents of the Hotter Than Hell Jabenero Pepper can into his spice mix. He then looked over at Squig, who now wearing his chef's hat, was sulking in the corner.
"Oh Sous Chef Squigman, would you be so kind as turn on the burner under the cast iron pan?" He asked, innocently.
"Whatever Chef Dweezil," Squig grumbled as he walked over to the oven and turned on the burner.
The minute Squig's back was turned, Dweezil quickly mixed in the pepper and began preparing his cicadas. First he speared one, dipped it into the milk, and then chuckling manically to himself, rolled it in the spice mixture. In no time, all of his cicadas were prepared and ready to go into the pan.
"Sous Chef," he called out sweetly, "would you be so kind as to drop the cicadas into the hot oil. But I want you to be very careful when you do it," he continued looking benignly over at Squig," because the oil is hot and I wouldn't want you to get a nasty burn."
Feeling extremely ill used and put upon, Squig marched over, hopped on the counter, grabbed the cicadas and walking over to the stove dumped them in the oil,.
"Oh nicely done." Dweezil beamed over at Squig. "You know, since you're doing such a good job, I think I'm going to let you taste one, before I plate the rest. How does that sound?
"Great. Is there anything else I can help you with, Chef. Anything at all? I'm right here at your disposal. Just name it and I'll do it."
"No, no. I've got it under control. All we have to do is wait until the timer goes off and then you may take the cicadas out of the oil and place them on that plate." He smiled, indicating a festive blue plate sitting on top of the oven.
Ding went the timer and Dweezil, hopping off the counter, turned off the burner. Looking up at Squig he instructed, "Now one by one, take the cicadas out of the oil and put them on the plate. But do be careful, they will be hot."
Not needing to be told twice Squig speared each cicada, now crispy and tinted a fiery shade of red, and carefully stacked them on the plate.
"You know," Dweezil said sweetly, drumming his claws on the floor, "You did such a good job, you don't have to stop at one cicada. You can have as many as you can stuff in your mouth."
Squig immediately speared four cicadas and crammed them in his mouth. His eyes bulged, his mouth was on fire and he spit the cicada bits everywhere, as he ran in circles looking for water.
"I know they're delicious, but there really isn't any need to dance around." Dweezil chuckled.
"Water," Squig croaked.
"This should cool you down," Dweezil said, jumping on to the sink, and turning on the tap sprayed Squig in the face with cold water.
"In my mouth, in my mouth, not on my face," Squig cried opening his mouth.
And with that Dweezil turned the water on full force and let Squig have it, knocking him off the counter and onto the floor. "My, my," he said looking down at his soaking wet friend, "you seem to have lost your hat. I guess your job as sous chef is over. Turning toward the camera, he grinned and said, when it doubt, you can always alter your recipe from crispy fried cicada to fire cracker cicada, which in this instance has done the job quite effectively."
"Oh Sous Chef Squigman, would you be so kind as turn on the burner under the cast iron pan?" He asked, innocently.
"Whatever Chef Dweezil," Squig grumbled as he walked over to the oven and turned on the burner.
The minute Squig's back was turned, Dweezil quickly mixed in the pepper and began preparing his cicadas. First he speared one, dipped it into the milk, and then chuckling manically to himself, rolled it in the spice mixture. In no time, all of his cicadas were prepared and ready to go into the pan.
"Sous Chef," he called out sweetly, "would you be so kind as to drop the cicadas into the hot oil. But I want you to be very careful when you do it," he continued looking benignly over at Squig," because the oil is hot and I wouldn't want you to get a nasty burn."
Feeling extremely ill used and put upon, Squig marched over, hopped on the counter, grabbed the cicadas and walking over to the stove dumped them in the oil,.
"Oh nicely done." Dweezil beamed over at Squig. "You know, since you're doing such a good job, I think I'm going to let you taste one, before I plate the rest. How does that sound?
"Great. Is there anything else I can help you with, Chef. Anything at all? I'm right here at your disposal. Just name it and I'll do it."
"No, no. I've got it under control. All we have to do is wait until the timer goes off and then you may take the cicadas out of the oil and place them on that plate." He smiled, indicating a festive blue plate sitting on top of the oven.
Ding went the timer and Dweezil, hopping off the counter, turned off the burner. Looking up at Squig he instructed, "Now one by one, take the cicadas out of the oil and put them on the plate. But do be careful, they will be hot."
Not needing to be told twice Squig speared each cicada, now crispy and tinted a fiery shade of red, and carefully stacked them on the plate.
"You know," Dweezil said sweetly, drumming his claws on the floor, "You did such a good job, you don't have to stop at one cicada. You can have as many as you can stuff in your mouth."
Squig immediately speared four cicadas and crammed them in his mouth. His eyes bulged, his mouth was on fire and he spit the cicada bits everywhere, as he ran in circles looking for water.
"I know they're delicious, but there really isn't any need to dance around." Dweezil chuckled.
"Water," Squig croaked.
"This should cool you down," Dweezil said, jumping on to the sink, and turning on the tap sprayed Squig in the face with cold water.
"In my mouth, in my mouth, not on my face," Squig cried opening his mouth.
And with that Dweezil turned the water on full force and let Squig have it, knocking him off the counter and onto the floor. "My, my," he said looking down at his soaking wet friend, "you seem to have lost your hat. I guess your job as sous chef is over. Turning toward the camera, he grinned and said, when it doubt, you can always alter your recipe from crispy fried cicada to fire cracker cicada, which in this instance has done the job quite effectively."
Sunday, May 19, 2013
In the Kitchen with Dweezil and Squig Part 3
Squig wiped his face, adjusted his hat and snuck quietly back into the kitchen. With any luck at all Dweezil would have been so busy making an ass out of himself, he wouldn't have noticed his absence. But that was not the case.
"Just where have you been Sous Chef Sqigman," Dweezil demanded.
"Well Chef Dweezil, I was in the er hum, litter box. That's it. I was in the litter box. You know when nature calls, a cat's got to do, what a cat's got to do."
"Stay right where you are," Do not move a muscle until we have paw inspection." He commanded hopping off the counter.
"Paw inspection?" Squig questioned.
"Yes, paw inspection. You cannot come into a sanitary environment with bathroom bits clinging to your paws. Now stick them up where I can see them and we'll see if you can come any closer to the food." He grabbed one of Squig's paws and carefully inspected it. Then he did the same for the rest. Assuring himself that Squig's paws were clean enough, he hopped back on the counter and began again.
"Oh yes, where was I." he began drumming his paws on the counter. When cooking cicada, you want the product to be as fresh as possible, and that means they must be alive. However, " he said, nodding his head for emphasis, "we here at Chez Dweezil believe in being humane, so these cicadas have been in the refrigerator for just enough time to become comatose."
He extended a claw and continued. "Now we will pith the cicada, humanely killing it. Then we will rip off it's head and remove it's wings and lay it on this plate until we have finished the rest."
Squig's head was swimming, his stomach was growling. He had to get to those cicadas. He thought about it as he watched Dweezil add bug after bug to the growing pile. And then he had a plan. Smiling he wheedled in a snarky and totally fake tone of voice, "Oh Chef Dweezil can I assist you in your preparations? I've been watching everything you did and I know I can do it, if you just give me a chance. Isn't there another step you could be doing while I prepare the prey, I mean ingredient's.?"
Dweezil hesitated, he instinctively knew that Squig was up to something, but he did have more preparations and if Squig could finish off the remaining cicadas, they would be closer to completing the dish. So, against his better judgement, he said, "Come on up, but remember to be sanitary and humane."
"Oh, I'll be very humane, very humane," Squig whispered as he launched himself onto the counter and extending a claw, he speared the cicada. Dweezil watched in shocked horror as Squig popped the bug in his mouth and began to chew. He was eating the whole thing, bit by bit until only the red eyed head was sticking out of his mouth.
"Sous chef Squigman," he roared, "What do you think you're doing?
"Chew, chomp, chew, gulp, swallow" he responded, and taking one last bite, finished off the cicada. After wiping off his mouth with his paw, he smiled over at Dweezil and said, "Why Chef Dweezil, I'm enjoying a cicadacycle, Just the tasty treat a cat wants on a warm spring afternoon."
"Why you perverse little snake," DweezIl hissed as he knocked him off the counter. "I aught to come down there and smack you from now until tomorrow."
"Chef Dweezil, look. You've knocked off my hat. Oh my however will I appear in the role of the Sous Chef without it.?"
And with that, Dweezil leaped off the counter, and began smacking Squig around the room,.
TO BE CONTINUED
"Just where have you been Sous Chef Sqigman," Dweezil demanded.
"Well Chef Dweezil, I was in the er hum, litter box. That's it. I was in the litter box. You know when nature calls, a cat's got to do, what a cat's got to do."
"Stay right where you are," Do not move a muscle until we have paw inspection." He commanded hopping off the counter.
"Paw inspection?" Squig questioned.
"Yes, paw inspection. You cannot come into a sanitary environment with bathroom bits clinging to your paws. Now stick them up where I can see them and we'll see if you can come any closer to the food." He grabbed one of Squig's paws and carefully inspected it. Then he did the same for the rest. Assuring himself that Squig's paws were clean enough, he hopped back on the counter and began again.
"Oh yes, where was I." he began drumming his paws on the counter. When cooking cicada, you want the product to be as fresh as possible, and that means they must be alive. However, " he said, nodding his head for emphasis, "we here at Chez Dweezil believe in being humane, so these cicadas have been in the refrigerator for just enough time to become comatose."
He extended a claw and continued. "Now we will pith the cicada, humanely killing it. Then we will rip off it's head and remove it's wings and lay it on this plate until we have finished the rest."
Squig's head was swimming, his stomach was growling. He had to get to those cicadas. He thought about it as he watched Dweezil add bug after bug to the growing pile. And then he had a plan. Smiling he wheedled in a snarky and totally fake tone of voice, "Oh Chef Dweezil can I assist you in your preparations? I've been watching everything you did and I know I can do it, if you just give me a chance. Isn't there another step you could be doing while I prepare the prey, I mean ingredient's.?"
Dweezil hesitated, he instinctively knew that Squig was up to something, but he did have more preparations and if Squig could finish off the remaining cicadas, they would be closer to completing the dish. So, against his better judgement, he said, "Come on up, but remember to be sanitary and humane."
"Oh, I'll be very humane, very humane," Squig whispered as he launched himself onto the counter and extending a claw, he speared the cicada. Dweezil watched in shocked horror as Squig popped the bug in his mouth and began to chew. He was eating the whole thing, bit by bit until only the red eyed head was sticking out of his mouth.
"Sous chef Squigman," he roared, "What do you think you're doing?
"Chew, chomp, chew, gulp, swallow" he responded, and taking one last bite, finished off the cicada. After wiping off his mouth with his paw, he smiled over at Dweezil and said, "Why Chef Dweezil, I'm enjoying a cicadacycle, Just the tasty treat a cat wants on a warm spring afternoon."
"Why you perverse little snake," DweezIl hissed as he knocked him off the counter. "I aught to come down there and smack you from now until tomorrow."
"Chef Dweezil, look. You've knocked off my hat. Oh my however will I appear in the role of the Sous Chef without it.?"
And with that, Dweezil leaped off the counter, and began smacking Squig around the room,.
TO BE CONTINUED
Sunday, May 12, 2013
In the Kitchen with Dweezil and Squig Part 2
Dweezil straightened his apron, adjusted his chef's hat, and smiling opened his paws wide and said, "Welcome, welcome to Chez Dweezil, a small and rustic establishment nestled deep in the heart of horse country, Maryland."
Squig sat down in shock. Dweezil had obviously lost his mind. This wasn't a small and rustic establishment nestled in the heart of horse country, Maryland. This was Maia's kitchen and the only place it was nestled was Maia's house. This was bad, really bad. What if there were cameras rolling and his best friend, dressed up like some kind of a nut, was making a fool out of himself in front of the whole world. He bet there were carefully hidden camera's around someplace. Whoever had helped him set this up had obviously also placed Internet camera in the kitchen. He had to do something fast, but what.
Trying not to alert Dweezil, who was now pontificating about something or other, he walked backwards out of the kitchen and into the hall. Sitting down and extending a claw, he picked around until he felt the loose floor board. Pressing on it, it sprang open and inside the space was a small book. A secret book full of all the helpful hints a cat would need throughout his life. Grabbing it, he opened and started scanning the table of contents.
"How to get rid of unwelcome rodents. Teaching your kittens about the litter box. Dealing with humans parts 1 through 800. Creating a human friendly environment." Squig read softly to himself. This was not helpful. Where was what to do when your best friend had lost it. It had to be in here somewhere, he just had to keep looking.
He stopped momentarily to listen to what Dweezil was up to now and heard him say, "We here at Chez Dweezil believe in only fixing what is locally in season and today since mother nature has blessed us with this marvelous abundance, we are going to fix crispy fried cicada.
As Squig heard the word, cicada, his eyes opened wide, he placed the book back in its hiding place and began to salivate.
TO BE CONTINUED
Squig sat down in shock. Dweezil had obviously lost his mind. This wasn't a small and rustic establishment nestled in the heart of horse country, Maryland. This was Maia's kitchen and the only place it was nestled was Maia's house. This was bad, really bad. What if there were cameras rolling and his best friend, dressed up like some kind of a nut, was making a fool out of himself in front of the whole world. He bet there were carefully hidden camera's around someplace. Whoever had helped him set this up had obviously also placed Internet camera in the kitchen. He had to do something fast, but what.
Trying not to alert Dweezil, who was now pontificating about something or other, he walked backwards out of the kitchen and into the hall. Sitting down and extending a claw, he picked around until he felt the loose floor board. Pressing on it, it sprang open and inside the space was a small book. A secret book full of all the helpful hints a cat would need throughout his life. Grabbing it, he opened and started scanning the table of contents.
"How to get rid of unwelcome rodents. Teaching your kittens about the litter box. Dealing with humans parts 1 through 800. Creating a human friendly environment." Squig read softly to himself. This was not helpful. Where was what to do when your best friend had lost it. It had to be in here somewhere, he just had to keep looking.
He stopped momentarily to listen to what Dweezil was up to now and heard him say, "We here at Chez Dweezil believe in only fixing what is locally in season and today since mother nature has blessed us with this marvelous abundance, we are going to fix crispy fried cicada.
As Squig heard the word, cicada, his eyes opened wide, he placed the book back in its hiding place and began to salivate.
TO BE CONTINUED
Friday, May 10, 2013
Dweezil's Opinion of Squig's Music Video
A group of talentless tatooed buffoons seranading half dressed bimbos. Nice Squigman, very nice.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
In the Kitchen with Dweezil and Squig
Dweezil went into the kitchen in a high state of anticipation. He hopped on the counter and inspected everything carefully. All was as it should be, the necessary spices and liquids were in their respective bowls and in the big ceramic blue bowl he was pleased to notice that the main ingredient had been chilled until comatose.
Hopping off the counter, he next went over to the oven and leaping on it saw that the large cast iron pan had just the right amount of oil in it. Everything, was in every way, just perfect.
He sighed, a pleasurable sigh and jumping down from the top of the oven, opened the lowest drawer and there, as expected, were a small chef's apron and two cat sized chef's hats. He pulled out the apron and put it on, noticing with a great deal of satisfaction that the words, "Chez Dweezil," were emblazoned on the front. He then fluffed out his chef's hat and put it on.
"Everything's ready and it's going to be just perfect," he thought to himself, almost purring with delight.
"What have you done," Squig demanded as he came into the kitchen. "You had to have help. You couldn't have done this by yourself. What are you doing, and why are you wearing that get up?
"Put on the hat," Dweezil commanded, pointing to the other cat sized chef's hat.
"I will not." Squig said, narrowing his eyes and sitting down.
"Put on the hat," he repeated calmly. "In this episode, you are appearing in the role of the sous chef and sous chef's where hats. Therefore, so are you."
"No," Squig replied, nastily,"In this episode, I am appearing in the role of the cat and cats do not wear hats."
"Let me be quite clear about this," Dweezil explained, "In this episode you are appearing in the role of the sous chef and you are going to wear that hat."
"No, in this episode, I am appearing in the role of the hatless cat, and you obviously are appearing in the role of the nut. The ahh, umm, iii,"
"What?" Dweezil asked sweetly, "Having trouble coming up with type of nut. Let me help." Extending a claw and patting it against his cheek, he continued, "Am I a wing nut? No, what about a macadamia nut, or how about a cashew? Then there's always, almonds or peanuts, and I do believe that acorns are considered nuts. Am I appearing in the role of the acorn?"
"No," Squig screamed. "You are appearing in the role of the nut who thinks he's Brad Pitt or President Obama."
"That may be." Dweezil answered calmly walking over to Squig, "But you are appearing in the role of sous chef and you are going to wear this hat." And with that, he crammed the hat on the top of Squig's head.
Walking away, he looked over his shoulder and said, "Oh by the way, since I am the chef and you are the sous chef, you will address me as Chef, or Chef Dweezil. Got it.?"
"Whatever, " Squig grumbled.
"What did you say, Sous Chef Squigman," Dweezil asked narrowing his eyes and flicking his tail.
"Yes sir, Chef Dweezil," Squig replied in a very flat tone of voice.
"Good."
TO BE CONTINUED
Hopping off the counter, he next went over to the oven and leaping on it saw that the large cast iron pan had just the right amount of oil in it. Everything, was in every way, just perfect.
He sighed, a pleasurable sigh and jumping down from the top of the oven, opened the lowest drawer and there, as expected, were a small chef's apron and two cat sized chef's hats. He pulled out the apron and put it on, noticing with a great deal of satisfaction that the words, "Chez Dweezil," were emblazoned on the front. He then fluffed out his chef's hat and put it on.
"Everything's ready and it's going to be just perfect," he thought to himself, almost purring with delight.
"What have you done," Squig demanded as he came into the kitchen. "You had to have help. You couldn't have done this by yourself. What are you doing, and why are you wearing that get up?
"Put on the hat," Dweezil commanded, pointing to the other cat sized chef's hat.
"I will not." Squig said, narrowing his eyes and sitting down.
"Put on the hat," he repeated calmly. "In this episode, you are appearing in the role of the sous chef and sous chef's where hats. Therefore, so are you."
"No," Squig replied, nastily,"In this episode, I am appearing in the role of the cat and cats do not wear hats."
"Let me be quite clear about this," Dweezil explained, "In this episode you are appearing in the role of the sous chef and you are going to wear that hat."
"No, in this episode, I am appearing in the role of the hatless cat, and you obviously are appearing in the role of the nut. The ahh, umm, iii,"
"What?" Dweezil asked sweetly, "Having trouble coming up with type of nut. Let me help." Extending a claw and patting it against his cheek, he continued, "Am I a wing nut? No, what about a macadamia nut, or how about a cashew? Then there's always, almonds or peanuts, and I do believe that acorns are considered nuts. Am I appearing in the role of the acorn?"
"No," Squig screamed. "You are appearing in the role of the nut who thinks he's Brad Pitt or President Obama."
"That may be." Dweezil answered calmly walking over to Squig, "But you are appearing in the role of sous chef and you are going to wear this hat." And with that, he crammed the hat on the top of Squig's head.
Walking away, he looked over his shoulder and said, "Oh by the way, since I am the chef and you are the sous chef, you will address me as Chef, or Chef Dweezil. Got it.?"
"Whatever, " Squig grumbled.
"What did you say, Sous Chef Squigman," Dweezil asked narrowing his eyes and flicking his tail.
"Yes sir, Chef Dweezil," Squig replied in a very flat tone of voice.
"Good."
TO BE CONTINUED
Monday, April 29, 2013
Squig's Pick For Music Video of the Week
"Now that's what I call angelic" Squig announced pumping his paws and dancing around the room
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Squig's Opinion of Dweezil's Music Video
"Blech, yuck, Blouhey," Squig announced sticking out his tongue and making a face. "In one word, BORING."
"However, did you see the size of the mouth on that broad? It looked like it could gobble down Baltimore, whole" Cackle, snort, double over laughing.
"However, folks, you only have to wait a few more days to see a real music video, one that's beautiful and," wink, wink, "angelic."
"This is fun, blogging by myself, with no Dweezil to stop me. I'm definitely going to have to do this again."
"However, did you see the size of the mouth on that broad? It looked like it could gobble down Baltimore, whole" Cackle, snort, double over laughing.
"However, folks, you only have to wait a few more days to see a real music video, one that's beautiful and," wink, wink, "angelic."
"This is fun, blogging by myself, with no Dweezil to stop me. I'm definitely going to have to do this again."
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Dweezil's Pick for Music Video of the Week
"Isn't she beautiful." Dweezil sighed. "A voice like an angel."
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Curious Part 3
Dweezil took a deep breath and began again. "So when the daddy cat hears the mommy cat's lovely song, he comes over to pay her a visit. He smiles and introduces himself and then the mommy cat invites him into her home where they head straight to the kitchen."
"Then," Squig interrupts, "the daddy cat rubs up against the mommy cat.,"
Dweezil's ears go back.
"He extends one little claw and gently caresses her,
Dweezil's tail starts twitching.
"until she moans, oh master...."
Dweezil interrupting Squig in mid moan, wraps his paws around his neck and starts throttling him, then after whacking him a good one, knocks him off the chair, yelling, "You will stop this ridiculous rendition of 50 Shades of Gray, complete with Pepe le Pew phony French accent this minute. What is the matter with you. Have you no sense of decency. Now go and sit over there," he indicates a spot next to Maia's bookcase,"and keep your damn mouth shut."
"He said he wanted it to be romantic and what's more romantic than 50 Shades of Gray?" Squig grumbled as he slunk over to the bookcase and sat down.
"Now that we have that taken care of, we can continue, " Dweezil said wiping off his paws.
So the daddy cat goes over to the cupboards and gets out the ingredients and the mommy cat gets the mixing bowl and the muffin tin. Together they mix up the batter and fill six little muffin cups. Then the mommy cat gets out her oven mitts and puts the muffin tin in the oven. The daddy cat seeing that all the little buns are safely in the oven, leaves.."
"Completely frustrated and totally confused," Squig interjects from his spot near the bookcase.
"While the mommy cat decorates her little nesting box with adorable soft cloths featuring tiny bunnies and baby mice. Then she curls up to wait.
But she doesn't have to wait long. Because soon the timer goes off. So she puts back on her oven mitts and takes out her muffin tin filled with precious little kittens. Lovingly, she carries each one to the nesting box and once they are all safely in, she purrs them to sleep with her special lullaby.
And that my little friend are where kittens come from." Dweezil finishes, smiling up at the camera.
"All that I can say about that stupid explanation," Squig grumbles to himself, "is that it really is obvious that someone certainly did have the 'procedure' at a very early age and should probably go talk to a mental health professional about it.
"Then," Squig interrupts, "the daddy cat rubs up against the mommy cat.,"
Dweezil's ears go back.
"He extends one little claw and gently caresses her,
Dweezil's tail starts twitching.
"until she moans, oh master...."
Dweezil interrupting Squig in mid moan, wraps his paws around his neck and starts throttling him, then after whacking him a good one, knocks him off the chair, yelling, "You will stop this ridiculous rendition of 50 Shades of Gray, complete with Pepe le Pew phony French accent this minute. What is the matter with you. Have you no sense of decency. Now go and sit over there," he indicates a spot next to Maia's bookcase,"and keep your damn mouth shut."
"He said he wanted it to be romantic and what's more romantic than 50 Shades of Gray?" Squig grumbled as he slunk over to the bookcase and sat down.
"Now that we have that taken care of, we can continue, " Dweezil said wiping off his paws.
So the daddy cat goes over to the cupboards and gets out the ingredients and the mommy cat gets the mixing bowl and the muffin tin. Together they mix up the batter and fill six little muffin cups. Then the mommy cat gets out her oven mitts and puts the muffin tin in the oven. The daddy cat seeing that all the little buns are safely in the oven, leaves.."
"Completely frustrated and totally confused," Squig interjects from his spot near the bookcase.
"While the mommy cat decorates her little nesting box with adorable soft cloths featuring tiny bunnies and baby mice. Then she curls up to wait.
But she doesn't have to wait long. Because soon the timer goes off. So she puts back on her oven mitts and takes out her muffin tin filled with precious little kittens. Lovingly, she carries each one to the nesting box and once they are all safely in, she purrs them to sleep with her special lullaby.
And that my little friend are where kittens come from." Dweezil finishes, smiling up at the camera.
"All that I can say about that stupid explanation," Squig grumbles to himself, "is that it really is obvious that someone certainly did have the 'procedure' at a very early age and should probably go talk to a mental health professional about it.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Curious Part 2
Dweezil cleared his throat and began, "And so my little friend, when spring has filled the air with sunshine and the birds are chirping and the flowers beginning to bud, the mommie cat comes outside"
"And heads straight for that zen spa spot where she's been digging her pee pee holes," Sqig interjected interupting Dweezil.
"And just why would she want to that?" Dweezil asked, not really wanting to know the answer.
"Because doesn't that spot underneath the willow tree by the rippling brook sound just like the perfect place for a litle romance?" Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.
Dweezil sighed deeply, rolled his eyes and ignoring Squig completely continued, "Yes, the mommie cat comes outside and sings her longing song for love. And when the daddy cat hears her,"
"He comes sneaking and creeping through the underbrush," Squig interruped again and then jumped off the chair to show everyone what sneaking and creaping looked like. " And once he's got her in his sights, he pounces," Squig pounced back up on the chair. "Bites her on the neck and sticks his."
"SQUIGMAN," Dweezil roared, knocking Squig off the chair in mid bumb and grind, "You will stop this pornagraphic pantomime this minute." He put his paws over his eyes and took a few minutes to compose himself, and then turning to Squig hissed, "What is this infusion of filth? Why must you drag the sewer into this discussion?"
"But Dweeze," Squig answered looking up, "Isn't that what happens. You said you wanted us to be edgy and fun, so I just thought."
"There will be no more thinking, Squigman. You have obviously been out in the sun too long or eaten a bad mouse. Your brain, what little there is of it, is not working properly."
"But Dweeze?"
"There are ways and there way to talk about this and we are going to take the high road, the one filled with beauty and romance. So get back up here and apologize and we are going to start over."
"Squig hopped back up and muttered, " I'm sorry." But he really wasn't.
TO BE CONTINUED
"And heads straight for that zen spa spot where she's been digging her pee pee holes," Sqig interjected interupting Dweezil.
"And just why would she want to that?" Dweezil asked, not really wanting to know the answer.
"Because doesn't that spot underneath the willow tree by the rippling brook sound just like the perfect place for a litle romance?" Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.
Dweezil sighed deeply, rolled his eyes and ignoring Squig completely continued, "Yes, the mommie cat comes outside and sings her longing song for love. And when the daddy cat hears her,"
"He comes sneaking and creeping through the underbrush," Squig interruped again and then jumped off the chair to show everyone what sneaking and creaping looked like. " And once he's got her in his sights, he pounces," Squig pounced back up on the chair. "Bites her on the neck and sticks his."
"SQUIGMAN," Dweezil roared, knocking Squig off the chair in mid bumb and grind, "You will stop this pornagraphic pantomime this minute." He put his paws over his eyes and took a few minutes to compose himself, and then turning to Squig hissed, "What is this infusion of filth? Why must you drag the sewer into this discussion?"
"But Dweeze," Squig answered looking up, "Isn't that what happens. You said you wanted us to be edgy and fun, so I just thought."
"There will be no more thinking, Squigman. You have obviously been out in the sun too long or eaten a bad mouse. Your brain, what little there is of it, is not working properly."
"But Dweeze?"
"There are ways and there way to talk about this and we are going to take the high road, the one filled with beauty and romance. So get back up here and apologize and we are going to start over."
"Squig hopped back up and muttered, " I'm sorry." But he really wasn't.
TO BE CONTINUED
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Uncle Dweezil's Mailbag Curious in Cincinatti
Once again, Dweezil and Squig creep into Maia's office, and hop up on to the desk chair.
Before turning on the computer, Dweezil turns to Squig and says in a very stern tone of voice,"Remember what we decided for you?"
"There will be no airing of dirty laundry. There will be no contradicting Dweezil. There will be no stupid remarks," Squig intoned laying back his ears and looking entirely annoyed.
"Good," Dweezil nodded as he turned on the computer,then the camera, and said, "we're on smile."
Both cats sat up in the chair and smiled.
"Good morning cats and kittens around the world. You have tuned into Uncle Dweezil's mailbag and today we have a very important letter from our little friend, Curious in Cincinnati." Dweezil continued and extending a claw reached under the laptop and pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper. Smoothing it down, he took a deep breath and read:
"Dear Uncle Dweezil, where do kittens come from?
"Oh that's an easy one," Squig said happily. "If you're me, you come from a loving home and if you're him, he continued wrapping a paw around Dweezil, "you come from a barn."
"That's not what our little friend wants to know Squigman," Dweezil sighed, shoving off the offending paw "Care to try again."
"OK, OK, let me think. Kittens can come from anyplace," he continued after giving the question some thought. "They can come from loving homes, barns, someplace called a shelter. Sometimes they can even be found outside."
"Squigman," Dweezil shrieked "that is not what our friend wants to know. She wants to know, WHERE DO KITTENS COME FROM."
Blank look.
"Alright, let me put this in simpler terms, since that phrase obviously has too many big words for you. Let's try how are kittens made?"
"How are kittens made," Squig repeated, pondering the question and then as reality dawned, said "oh, that's what she wants to know? Oh my,"
"Exactly, " Dweezil beamed, "where do kittens come from."
TO BE CONTINUED
Before turning on the computer, Dweezil turns to Squig and says in a very stern tone of voice,"Remember what we decided for you?"
"There will be no airing of dirty laundry. There will be no contradicting Dweezil. There will be no stupid remarks," Squig intoned laying back his ears and looking entirely annoyed.
"Good," Dweezil nodded as he turned on the computer,then the camera, and said, "we're on smile."
Both cats sat up in the chair and smiled.
"Good morning cats and kittens around the world. You have tuned into Uncle Dweezil's mailbag and today we have a very important letter from our little friend, Curious in Cincinnati." Dweezil continued and extending a claw reached under the laptop and pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper. Smoothing it down, he took a deep breath and read:
"Dear Uncle Dweezil, where do kittens come from?
"Oh that's an easy one," Squig said happily. "If you're me, you come from a loving home and if you're him, he continued wrapping a paw around Dweezil, "you come from a barn."
"That's not what our little friend wants to know Squigman," Dweezil sighed, shoving off the offending paw "Care to try again."
"OK, OK, let me think. Kittens can come from anyplace," he continued after giving the question some thought. "They can come from loving homes, barns, someplace called a shelter. Sometimes they can even be found outside."
"Squigman," Dweezil shrieked "that is not what our friend wants to know. She wants to know, WHERE DO KITTENS COME FROM."
Blank look.
"Alright, let me put this in simpler terms, since that phrase obviously has too many big words for you. Let's try how are kittens made?"
"How are kittens made," Squig repeated, pondering the question and then as reality dawned, said "oh, that's what she wants to know? Oh my,"
"Exactly, " Dweezil beamed, "where do kittens come from."
TO BE CONTINUED
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Perplexed Part 2
Dweezil cleared his throat and then turned the camera back on.
"I'm sorry folk, Squigman had to use the litter box, didn't you Squigman?"
Squig nodded yes, while giving Dweezil the stink eye.
"Now where was I? Ah yes, we are now moving to the indoor pee pee holes that are conveniently available in several rooms through out the house. And here is what's important about them: First you may only use the cat sized pee pee holes that are located in the same room as the human's. No matter where else in the house you may find one, you are only allowed to use the pee pee holes that are close to where the humans do their human business. And the second important point, is that you can only pee pee in the hole." He instructed, extending and pointing his claw for emphasis. You must never, and I mean never poo poo in the pee pee hole."
"I did that once and it was a nightmare" Squig said softly a haunted look coming over his face."
"Squigman," Dweezil hissed, "This is not the venue for airing dirty laundry."
"I couldn't cover it up and when I tried to shove it down the hole it got all over my paws.."
"Squigman, enough! Nobody is interested in hearing all the disgusting details of your personal faux pas"
"I tried to cover it with Maia's scrubby thing and it got all over it,"Squig continued compelled by some inner demon to relive his personal disaster.
"Squigman," Dweezil shrieked, all we need to say is there is no poo pooing in the peepee hole. Do I make myself clear!"
"I can see it just like it was yesterday," Squig continued wringing his paws.
"What is going on here?" I demanded coming into my office.
"Maia," the cats squeaked jumping off my office chair.
"You know, when I read that post about perverted boy coyotes and hairdo's down there, I thought I was swimming in a cess pit of stupidity. But this latest effort, makes that look like a philosophy symposium held at Harvard."
"Maia, I can explain," Dweezil answered scrambling around for justification.
"I just bet you can," I replied, while inwardly cackling and thinking to myself, STRIKE ONE. This blog is well on it's way to being mine again.
"I'm sorry folk, Squigman had to use the litter box, didn't you Squigman?"
Squig nodded yes, while giving Dweezil the stink eye.
"Now where was I? Ah yes, we are now moving to the indoor pee pee holes that are conveniently available in several rooms through out the house. And here is what's important about them: First you may only use the cat sized pee pee holes that are located in the same room as the human's. No matter where else in the house you may find one, you are only allowed to use the pee pee holes that are close to where the humans do their human business. And the second important point, is that you can only pee pee in the hole." He instructed, extending and pointing his claw for emphasis. You must never, and I mean never poo poo in the pee pee hole."
"I did that once and it was a nightmare" Squig said softly a haunted look coming over his face."
"Squigman," Dweezil hissed, "This is not the venue for airing dirty laundry."
"I couldn't cover it up and when I tried to shove it down the hole it got all over my paws.."
"Squigman, enough! Nobody is interested in hearing all the disgusting details of your personal faux pas"
"I tried to cover it with Maia's scrubby thing and it got all over it,"Squig continued compelled by some inner demon to relive his personal disaster.
"Squigman," Dweezil shrieked, all we need to say is there is no poo pooing in the peepee hole. Do I make myself clear!"
"I can see it just like it was yesterday," Squig continued wringing his paws.
"What is going on here?" I demanded coming into my office.
"Maia," the cats squeaked jumping off my office chair.
"You know, when I read that post about perverted boy coyotes and hairdo's down there, I thought I was swimming in a cess pit of stupidity. But this latest effort, makes that look like a philosophy symposium held at Harvard."
"Maia, I can explain," Dweezil answered scrambling around for justification.
"I just bet you can," I replied, while inwardly cackling and thinking to myself, STRIKE ONE. This blog is well on it's way to being mine again.
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