When The Moon Hits Your Eye ...

(PICTURES COMING SOON)

Squigg:  "There she is folks.  Isn't she beeutiful."  Sigh. "Her eyes the color of a summer sky.  Each little whisker perfection."

Dweezil sticking claw down throat making gagging noises.

"Everyday I try to visit her.  I could spend hours just gazing at her loveliness."

More gagging noises.

"At least once a week I try to drop off a little present.."

Dweezil interrupting:  "Ah yes, a nosegay of deceased rodents, just the thoughtful gift every young lady wants to receive."  Hmm," tapping claws against cheek.  " Doesn't each nasty little corpse have a special meaning? Oh yes, I have it now., it's ratties for remembrance.  Or more likely in her case, mousies for misgivings might be more apropos. He thought for a minute and then finished with, "See a hare? Do beware."

Squigg laying ears back and looking annoyed.

Clippity clop, "Hi cats, it's me Jolie. Guess what I learned how to do?  Wanna guess, wanna guess?"

Dweezil: "Ignore it and it might go away."

"I can crisscross my front feet while turning, here I go." Jolie says pivoting around. "Well cats wasn't that the coolest thing ever."

Squigg:  "It's time somebody taught you some manners, missy. "It's Mr cats."

Dweezil:  "Why to I have to keep correcting everybody? It's Sir Dweezil and Mr. Squiggman.  I would think by now we would all understand these very clear social distinctions."

Sqigg: "Why do you get to be Sir Dweezil.  Aren't you the one who was born in a barn, while I was born in the lap of luxury, the adored only son of ...

Dweezil: "A woman of the streets and god only knows who."

Sqigg laying ears flat back and switching tail. "Don't you insult my mother.."

Jolie contemplating things:  "I know what a woman is and I know what a street is.  What to you get if you put the woman on the street."

Dweezil rolling, beating paws on the ground, holding stomach and laughing his head off, "snort, cackle, this is too good. If you put a woman on the street what you get is.."

Smack, swat,  smack, smack smack.

Jolie, jumping up and down :  Oh a fight, fight, fight.

Maia:  That's it! Stop this fighting immediately.

Jolie:  What would you be, if you went out on the street Maia?  I don't think it's possible for you to be Squigg's mother.Would you turn into another lady cat?"

Maia: "Enough. Jolie, stop this ridiculous line of conversation this minute. Sqigg, Dweezil, shake paws and stop fighting right now.  What is it with you two?  Why is it whenever I let you post something it always turns into this?  First we had perverted boy coyotes and hairdos down there.  Now we have nosegays of dead rodents and street walkers. I am mortified. Mortified, I tell you.  Sigh, what am I doing wrong.

The animals heads down start slinking away, except for Squigg who turns his head and whispers, "Sir Squiggman here. I think we all realize which one of us brought up nosegays of dead rodents and street walkers.  The lowlife who was born in a barn."

Against My Better Judgement

How do you do ladies and gentlemen, I am Sir Dweezil of Inwood and I would like to introduce my good friend and boon companion, Mr. Squigman Igmeowkowski.

We are a couple of bon vivants and sophisticated men about town.

Maia:  Eyes Rolling

Dweezil, here, Squigman don't you have something to say to that dear lady out west, Ms. Cynthia Susan over at the Rough Strings Ranch

Squig here, Cindy Sue, you are one red hot mama, even though your a dog.

Whap and a smack on the head

Dweezil what did you do that for? What did I say? It's not like she's that tasty little Siamese down the road and I'm not really into dogs.

Whap, Whap, Whap.

Cynthia Susan, Mr. Igmeowkowski is obviously not himself today.  Maybe he had too much anesthesia at his last visit to the vet. You see, he can't seem to stop fighting, poor lad. What he meant to say is that when we read your latest post, we were overwhelmed with your intelligence and canine loveliness.

Maia here, where are my muck boots, the you know what is getting pretty thick around here.

It's Dweezil again, muck boots that reminds me of our locale, that little slice of heaven where we live.

Dweezil, don't say it.  You know what's going to happen if you say it.

Hmm, like I said, Sqiggman is obviously suffering from some brain deficiency, because we live in the rolling hills of the horse country of Maryland.

Now you've done it Dweeze. It's here

Hi, I'm a horsie and I can run really fast. Wanna watch me run?

No, Shorty we do not want to watch you run, now go away we're having a conversation here with our adoring readers.

But I want to say.

Zip it.

My name means pretty and I can run really fast.

Zip it.

I won't.  Unless you let me talk, I'm going to hold my breath till I turn blue.

Feel free.

Look what you've done Dweeze, you've gone and ruined it.  It must be your hairdo. It's made you stupid. What kind of boy cat gets a "sanitary cut."

Am I blue yet?

I'll show you a sanitary cut. Come here you little weasel.

AM I BLUE YET!!!!!!

Before this degenerates any further, I think you all have pretty much proved my point.

AM I BLUE YET!!!!!

Oh good grief, Now there's three of them.

Guest Bloggers - Heaven Help Us -It's Dweezil and Squig

 "Hi, I'm Dweezil"

"And I'm Squigg.  Actually my name is Squigman Igmeouwkowski.  I was named for a character in a classic work of art."

Dweeze here, "I would hardly call Laverne and Shirley a "quote classic work of art."

S.  "Well at least people don't think I'm some kind of weasel. Didn't that lady last week say, Weasel's a weird name for a cat.  He doesn't look like a weasel and so on."

D. "Would you just get on with it."

S. " OK, Cindy Sue, we're so glad you're feeling better and we can really commiserate, well sort of commiserate with what you went through.  Dweezil and I were both attacked by a coyote.  But being that we're cats, we could climb trees, so all he could do was bite us on the butt. "

D. " She, the coyote was a girl."

S. "How do you know that."

D. "What kind of a perverted boy coyote would bite a boy cat on the butt."

S. "A hungry one and Dweezil, would you watch your mouth.  This is a family blog.  As I was saying the coyote bit us on the butt, not at the same time, but separately, and we had to go to the vet and get shots and stitches and wear collars. It was awful."

D. "We hate the vet."

S.  "You don't.  That's where you go get your hairdos."

D." I do not get hairdos."

S.  "Do too.  What do you think happens to someone when he goes in looking one way and comes out looking different.  And I'm not talking about "the procedure."  What he gets is a hairdo, and Dweeze even gets a hairdo down  there."

D. "That does it,  come here you little twerp and I'll hairdo you."

Maia:  "Boys that's it!  What's all this talk about perverted boy coyotes and hairdos down there.  Stop smacking each other this instant.  You promised you'd be nice. I thought you wanted to tell Cindy Sue how glad you were, that she's recovered.  And just like last time I let you blog, you turn it into, well you turn it into something ridiculous.  Now apologize to Cindy Sue this minute."

"We're sorry Cindy Sue and we were keeping our paws crossed for your complete recovery from the minute we found out."