A Moyo Murder Mystery...also some Split-Rabbits...

Mom thinks she is funny. She made me sit like I was a prime suspect at that Cecil murder scene. He was only a bit dead. I didn't kill him completely. Mom was over-reacting. As per usual. She said This looks like a MAJOR Crime Scene, Moyo. You just sit!

See. It's like this. Mom was reading. And when Mom reads? The Whole Entire World just disappears. A bomb could go off and she would turn the page. So when she is busy doing her reading thing, I don't get the Attention I should be getting. Sometimes this is fine. I just lie by her feet and I have Moyo-dreams. Like about hunting for Rabbit Poo.

We are visiting Mom's kids in Calgary right now and here where the Youngest One lives? There are these HUGE FAT WHITE Rabbits. I got quite excited when I saw them for the first time. Mom got quite excited, too. When we got back inside she said Hey Dad? Moyo and I saw these BIG FAT WHITE RABBITS!

Dad said Hares

Mom said Pardon?

So he said again Hares.

And Moms said WTF are you going on about, Dad? I'm telling you about these white rabbits we saw in the snow.

So Dad said? HARES. They are hares. Not rabbits. Rabbits are cute, little domesticated things, you Zoological Philistine. Hares, now? Hares are those big things out there in the snow. Not domesticated. They live in the wild? Big? They are not rabbits. They are hares.

So Mom accused him of splitting them and had a little sulk.

Anyway. Because of those Split-Hare-Rabbit-Thingies? I sometimes like to dream about them. Mostly I like to dream about hunting for their poo. They like to hide these perfect little pellets like treasures in the snow. And I like to find them. And I like to eat them.

Which makes Mom spit snakes. She says she is going to write a 365 page book one of these days. She will draw a picture of me, Moyo on each page - one for every day of the year - and in it I will be trying to eat something disgusting. Or inedible AND disgusting. And she will write ONE sentence on EACH page, like this: I CAN EAT THIS / I WANT TO EAT THIS / I ATE THIS and so on. Because she says she never really knew just how much of the world was edible until she had me. And especially the grosser stuff. I've given up trying to explain to my Mom that stuff like otter poo, cat poo and now rabbit poo is DELICIOUS! (and rooting around in the snow for the Delicious Poo those clever Split-Rabbits hide for me is Serious Fun!)

Me, Moyo. This is my Treasure Hunting Face.

AAAAANYWAYW This story is NOT about Hidden-Split-Hares-Poo. It's about what happens when Mom reads and I forget to have good dreams at her feet. When that happens, I get B.O.R.E.D. And when I get B.O.R.E.D. I play with my Cecil.

Now I never eat my Cecil, but when I do? I do it properly. So. When Mom stopped her reading and started paying attention to me again? She saw this.

Mom said FFS, Moyo. What have you done to Cecil? Look here, she said. And here! and she showed me what I already knew about.

Bits of fluff in a trail from the lounge. And a dead Cecil in the kitchen.Well, a Sort-of Dead Cecil, but from the way Mom went on about it you would think that Cecil was a Completely-Ex-Cecil.

I don't know what the fuss is all about, though. Cecil is only half dead. Not completely dead. Even if bits of Cecil fluff are a bit scattered about. And anyway? I didn't kill this Cecil completely. Only his Bum. And his Tail.

Then she went around putting these little numbers by each "exhibit." And all the time she muttered and moaned about Dead Cecils and What is your fascination with the nether regions of things, Moyo?

Not even the Cats escaped her ire. Cat was just sitting there when Mom spotted him and so she said You’re an accessory after the fact, JoJo. She said I can’t leave any of you guys alone, can I? Not even for a minute. One of you kills Cecils and the other one Aids and Abets. She muttered under her breath and took Crime Scene Photos of The Cat, too.

And that’s when I took that Cecil. I grabbed him and tried to escape with him, but Mom saw me and said HEY! That's Prime Evidence, Killer. DROP IT!

So I did and that's when that Other Cat started messing with my Cecil. Mom booked him, too.

And then Mom went back to gathering her evidence, which meant More Photos and More Little Pieces of Paper with Numbers.

And she caught JesusJones, too. And he was Just Sitting There Minding His Own Business.

Mom was so busy muttering and trying to get JesusJones into evidence that she didn’t see my SNEAKING CECIL AWAY AGAIN move. And so when she turned back to look at me and probably to moan some more at me she saw that Cecil was GONE. Again.

Cecil was gone and so was I. But not completely gone. I took that Cecil and we went to sit on Mom's bed.

That messed with Mom's chain of evidence. She’s got some photographs of JesusJones' Sitting, Cat Messing with my Cecil,and Some Bits Of Fluff. And the main piece of evidence relocated.

Seriously, Mom? It's time for a Moyo-to-Mom Chat.

I said Cecil wasn't Completely Dead!

You made a Great Big Fuss about maybe nine pieces of Inside Cecil Fluff. And one mutilated tail. Also a Bitten Butt-end. Otherwise Cecil is quite fine, thank you very much.

Maybe next time, you won't ignore me when you are reading and I forget about having Split-Hare-Rabbit-Poo-Treasure Dreams.

P.S. Once before? There was Another Murder and that's when Mom started her Crime Scene Nonsense. That time, though? She even made chalk drawings about my Cecil. That time I also Disappeared him when Mom was distracted by a Disappearing JesusJones' Butt. This time? Mom's Youngest Child threatened Dire Consequences if Mom went about drawing crime scene chalk stuff all over her carpets. So Mom had to restrain herself. Which probably made her even more muttery than usual.