What’s Your Deal?

A letter from Oliver:

Hello, peoples of the world. I have a story for you. A confession, of sorts.

This afternoon, My Girl went into the Out and pulled a bunch of plants out of the ground. I watched her from the window and meet her at the door when she came back in. She held out her hands for me to sniff.

And they smelled amaaazing.

My Girl was covered in the smell of the catnip she grows for me in the Out. She didn’t bring in anything but the smell and the taste, which I licked and licked and licked off her. It went to my head.

Then it really went to my head because My Girl wiped her hands all over my face and ears. As I was rolling on the floor, riding the nip wave, Obi came in to see what I was doing. He washed some nip off my head.

Some cats get mellow on the nip. I get a little slobbery. And a little bitey. And, I admit, my language gets a little less appropriate. My Girl says Obi and I get “nipper’s rage.” I guess that’s because we fight over the nip.

So around the time Obi started licking my head hair the wrong way,I called him a dirty name. I didn’t mean anything by it. But Obi and I aren’t allowed to cuss at each other anymore – you spend one week trying to murder your brother and you never live it down. My Girl and The Boy get all tense whenever we take our thunders a little too far.

Anyway, the second time I cussed at Obi, he sank his teeth into my shoulder and kicked me really hard. It didn’t really hurt but I yowled because that’s part of the game.

The Boy picked Obi up and carried him into the living room. My Girl put water all over her hands and scrubbed my head until it didn’t smell like nip anymore. Obi came back and licked me until the gross water smell was gone.

Even though there wasn’t a problem, My Girl decided that our nip harvest was going to have to go elsewhere. We still have some from the store we’re allowed to have, but the stuff we grow is really good sh…um…stuff. Prime. Grade A.

Luckily, my people have been watching a show called Weeds. They knew just what to do. Some people came to do a deal in the back yard, taking some nip from the harvested pile. My Girl gave tips on how we kittens like to receive it. I don’t think anyone actually took anything from the pile of weeds that was next to the nip. I don’t really understand the programs on the box of light – none of them are named right. Like the show How I Met Your Mother where he only meets their mother once after years and years of talking. Weird. OutTV has better names for programs – Wrens in Bushes? No surprise there.

Anyway, My Girl is also packing some up to mail to the lady who crocheted the blue square I nap on on the dining room table. She’s going to make toys.

So goodbye, my nip. I hope the other kittens of the world appreciate the great gift they’ve been given. And I hope their girls have treats ready when they come down.

Me-out,
Oliver

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