I thought "Leave it to Peepers" would be a great title for a book about her adventures. Peepers could have little daily adventures and write about life from a kitty point of view.
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.....there it was, a cool February evening and I hadn't had a damn thing to eat all day. I was sitting outside this little cottage in the woods meowing my ass off hoping someone would feel sorry for me. Of course I know the rules so first I sucked in my belly and my cheeks so I'd look pale and wan and wouldn't you know it worked! Some lady who seemed in an awfully big hurry bitching about being late going somewhere with keys in her hand headed towards her car when she heard my whining and came over to the tree to see what it was. She saw my poor pale, wan sunken cheeks and said "hewwo kitty kitty" and I was thinking "that's not my name lady" but really all I wanted was food so she could call me anything she wanted at that point.
She went right into the house searching frantically for food. I thought to myself "oh yeah I've seen these folks cooking steaks and baked potatoes on the grill every weekend, I know they've got good stuff " and then wouldn't you know it, she came outside with-----canned chicken. She opened it and left it there for me like I was some sort of wild beast or something.
Can you believe it? I mean come on, real cats don't eat chicken and they sure as heck don't eat out of cans. Who does she think we are? Animals? No, cats like me eat fancy feast in those real nice crystal glasses. And here I thought I had myself a couple of suckers! I mean hey I was going to work them good, have them take me in and I'd have it made.
I really should have known my life with them would be pure insanity when at the beginning, that lady kept calling me Frank. "Uh hello!" I wanted to say to her, "take a good hard look, do I LOOK like a friggin' FRANK? No, I am a girl, thank you very much!"
You know, something like that.