Breathin the Walk

Musashi Sez:

Recentlee, lotsa folks has sendid me hugz via emayl, an of cors, I has sendid them bak purrs, an hed rubs, an also a qweree about whut their breft smell lik, cuz fer kittee peeples this is importint infermayshun. I has got interesting results.

My mom’s breft alwaes smell lik orinj joos in the mornin. My granmom sez her breft smell lik tooftpayst. An whil I noe that this is the sorta thin hoomin peeples valyoo, cuz of the “mintee freshnis,” I gotta say it mayk me gag. Kyak! Kyak! Up com a hayrball! This not persnul. Mai mom tried to get me to lik som diffrint flayvrz of kittee tooftpayst, but it all disgustin, eevn the sammon kind. Which showz jus how bad this stuff is. Mai mom yooz hoomin peeple tooftpayst that she sez tayst lik “mint” an she sez “mint” is relaytid to “catnip.” An lotsa mai toys got that “old catnip flavr” but that isn’t neerlee lik the stuff in her mouft. Bleh.

On the othr paw, my wuns-an-fyootchr roommayt, Carlos sed his breft smelld lik BAR-B-Q. This soun hopful to me. I am lookin forerd to wen he com bak in Sptembrer, so I kin find out mor about this bar-b-q thin. It soun lik it migt smel OK!

MisQwot of the Dae: Tell me whut yer breft smel lik an I’ll tell yu whu yer frendz ar.

Yu’r Not Breethin Hard Enugf

Musashi Sez:

OK. So mom sez I was kind of crabbee las tim, an that’s tru. I don’t lik rainee daes wen the sun is not shynin and the burds ar not hangin around outsyd. Is annoyin. At leest wen it snow, I kin watch the hoomin peeples brushin all the whyt stuff off their cars. Then they pullz thoz wipey thins up so they looks lik bug antenna. Is perty funnee to see hoomin peeples fussin round them big bugs.

But mom sez I got to mayk shur yu gyz is not feelin bad cuz of mai crabbee. So she sugjestid I shud wryt about somthin “nys,” like mebbee luv. (Somtims she’s sutch a gurl. Huh.) Huh.

So I sed: “Luv’s borin. Is all that kissee stuff.”

An mom sed: “Luv mayks the wurld go round.”

I sed: “No, it don’t. Grabitee does that. Or mebbee innersha. Somthin to do wift fhyziks, aneewae.”

She sed: “Luv conkerz all.”

“Nope,” I sed. “Yu tol me about Wurld Dominayshun an how mutch trubul peeples gets in wen they conkerz othr peeples.”

She thingkd about that fer a whyl. Then she sed: “It’s spring. Luv is in the ayr. If yu’r not in luv, yu’r jus not breethin hard enugf.”

I sed: “What?”

She sed: “Is somthin a frend of yer Ont Mishell sed.”

I aksd: “Is Ont Mishell from yer litter?”

“Yep.”

Huh. So she mebbe is rigt. OK. I moslee breethz perty hard aftr I ben chaysin mousees wift mai ninja skillz. So I go do that now. Then we see what happn aftr.