Let's Hear It for the Toy

My cats have toys. They have a monstrous mass of mice and a serious stock of squeaky balls. Most are gifts from Grandma and Santa, but some are hand-me-downs from cousin, auntie, and uncle kits who have passed on to the giant litter box in the sky. There's a basket of toys upstairs and another downstairs; these cats should never find themselves in need of an object to bat across the kitchen floor or to hunt and chase. Do you think they appreciate the trove of trinkets they've amassed? Guess again. They overwhelmingly prefer "found" toys. You know, the free kind that they happen upon in their feline travels...sometimes the kind that they probably shouldn't have between their little kitty teeth. Cast off the Cat Dancer, here's what my cats want in their toy box.

* Cosmo prefers used floss from the bathroom trash can. This is extra-fun to pull from his mouth -- sometimes it's stuck between his tiny teeth and sometimes it's halfway down his gullet. I often feel like a magician pulling the never-ending scarf out of my sleeve. He likes to go dumpster-diving, bathroom-style when he's joined me in the loo for my morning visit...because, of course, he'll paw incessantly at the door if I don't bring him in with me from the start. I'll look over and see his head buried in the tiny blue plastic receptacle and shout, "Cosmo!" I have to admit I giggle a bit when he raises his furry face and looks at me, floss hanging loosely from his mouth, looking a bit like a contestant in a spaghetti-eating contest. All kidding aside, he has the cleanest teeth in town.

* Phoebe enjoys anything with a sticky back. She often steals stickers that are adhered to Ben's bulletin board and then hot-foots with them throughout the house. Someday we'll come upon the secret lair where she's stored her years of sticker spoils. It'll be full of half-chewed stickers ranging from Spongebob to UPS labels. It'll be cooler than unearthing Al Capone's tomb...

* Saffy considers herself "green" when it comes to toys. She nods in silent appreciation whenever I place a fresh vase of flowers on the kitchen table. She just knows I've positioned them strictly for her enjoyment. She's aware that she isn't supposed to jump onto the table, much less snack on flowers. This calculating cat waits until the coast is clear, jumps on the table, and immediatley begins dismantling the arrangement. Then it's Baby's Breath binge and purge time. And finding the spoils of Saffy's play isn't quite as alluring.

I guess store-bought cat toys are overrated. Now, if I can just convince my pre-teen and teenager that playing with a stick is much more fun than the latest wii game. You know, when I was a kid... Yeah, that's a different blog for a different day.