Meows effery, couldn’t get here yesterday. The humans were busy repairing out pen where we can safely go to the out. I was busy the day before earning my name of Bratcat Willow and made an escape hatch in it. Those tattletale goggies ratted me out and Aunty Fwitters chased me down. I bit and scratched and punched, to no avail and she gave me back to mommy, I yelled and smacked her too. Boy was I in trouble, let me tell yu dat! Well, no bloods drawn, so I was good on that front.
One more bit of news, we have new fambly members. We gots chickitydoodahs! Chickens to the uniformed. I haven’t seen them yet. Mommy says they are babies and have to live in a tub in the workshop for awhile.
Okeedoke, nuff meowed bout that stuff and on to why we are really here. The main point of this blog, although I may digress from time to time, I do luff da sound of my own meows and easily get distracted, is to record a history of Meowchat Village. As much as we can remember anywho. Since it’s founding the village has had to move a few times and each time more of our history has been lost. Well, this last time we got smart. We furs may be slow sometimes but eventually we do get smart and this time we made our very own place instead of depending once again on the kindness of strangers. Hmmmmmmm, now where did I hear that before? Oh, well, dat’s neefur here nor there. We made a place of our own so we never have to move again. So on to our history lesson for today. We are going off to the village library to visit with Bayli Snowtakit who is going to tell us the history of the “bob” in her own meows.
History of the Bob, by Bayli Snowta-Wiscat:
Mousies have been called Bobs for many many years. This is a fambly name, and since most mouses is related, they hand the name down ober and ober, generashun to generashun. Howeber, mice is sekretiff and kept this sekret name all to theirownselfs, as mice like to be that way. There was a few radical mice, acourse, that called themselfs Mickey or Jerry or Mighty or eben Mortimer. They lived on the frinje tho, as any self-respectin mousie wanted to be called Bob.
One day, a black purrshun kitty saw a mousie acrost the room. She stealthily (as she was quite young then, not old and grey as she is now) crept acrost the room towards the mousie, bobbin her head up and down as she went. Finely, she was furry close to the mouse, and stopped, still bobbin her head up and down at it. The mousie finely notised the black purrshun kitty, and turned around and said “whoa!”
“You is one fuzzy kitty, there. Is you going to eat me up?” The black purrshun thot fur a minnit, and replied “I don’t fink so, mouse. I purrfur my kibble. But I will turn you ober to one of my bruthercats unless you spill a mousie sekret to me!” The mouse cocked his hed to the side, and contemplated. “Okay, sounds like a fair deal to me. You know how you was bobbin your head at me? Well, that in fakt is a secret mouse name. Bob. Yes, 99.99 purrcent of mousies is named Bob. Just like you was doin with your head. Mebbe one of my ancestors saw a cat doin that and thot it was a good name, I dunno … but it is what it is, and Bobs we are. So there. But it’s a sekret. Don’t neber tell nokit eber! Can I go now?”
The black purrshun gave the mousie a little pat on the head, and told him to run along quikly afore anuther kit wasn’t so nice, and promptly ran out to the Town Square to tell effurry what she knew ..
Fanks fur the great story Aunty Bayli. Purrhaps you will come and meow us another story one day.
Bet you didn’t know that cattale now did ya?
Since we are already here, let’s take a look at the books. Maybe we can find one bout the Rainbow Bridge. Oh, good, here is one. Let’s see what it says.
The Rainbow Bridge is really a wonderful thing, even though we hate when one of our friends crosses it. It leads to a place of peace and plenty, a place of rejuvination. To a waystation where we await those who have been left behind. And sometimes our friends send us messages from the bridge. So when you see a rainbow in the sky, or a flutterby, (butterfly) drifts by on a gentle breeze, or you see a shadow from the corner of your eye, pay tenshun, it just might be a furry friend saying hello from the bridge.
Okeedoke, nuff history for today. I am going to be interviewing the village oldtimers and recording their fambly histories and adventures. As much as they will meow or woof or churp anywho. So see ya later awigators!