the one in the dishwasher door? i was trying to catch a good look at it, because our cat Nora has a fuzzy blue ball almost exactly like it, and it’s her most favorite toy in the whole house. She secretly carries it around at night, and often leaves it by my desk chair for me to find and coo over in the morning. I don’t know what it is about that ball that she loves, but we’ve found no other ball that she takes to like that one.
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Yep, that’s it. There’s probably a couple of dozen more of them around on the floor, in drawers, under furniture . . . .
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One of the local favorite cat toys is a grey mouse that you can stuff with catnip. Actually, the current crew isn’t that interested, but it’s historically been popular.
The problem is that it looks altogether too much like an actual dead mouse, and that can be jarring out of the corner of one’s eye.
The crochet toys don’t seem to get much play, unless it’s the thing I’m actually crocheting at that moment. Then it’s all fun and games until I flee to a room with a door.
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The current guys aren’t that much into catnip so far, and we have some catnip toys around that are newish so they’re probably still fresh.
My wife once used the yardstick to clean out all the toys under the bureau. Out came a toy that looked just like a dead mouse. Because it was.
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I had a cat who liked those squishy foam balls that you occasionally see in pet stores. She would play fetch — I would send a ball bouncing out of the room, she would charge after and bring it back, dropping it somewhere in my vicinity.
I would often find a ball on the food plate or in the water bowl… I guess she dropped it there when taking a food break.
From time to time I would send a ball down the front steps. She would run downstairs so fast it sounded like she was tumbling. A few seconds later she would trot proudly upstairs carrying her ball.
I had to pause the game from time to time for a breather, because she would keep going at full speed until she was out of breath.
RE yardsticks: Ever since I had that cat I’ve kept a yardstick near the fridge just for toy recovery.
(EDIT: meant to replay to the thread.)
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My dad trained the mom Siamese, Bonnie, that they got in 1957, to chase crumpled-up soft cig packs. She brought them back. One time, I threw one too far and it went through the carpeted living & dining rooms to the linoleum kitchen floor - and down the steps to the back door & basement.
She skidded across the linoleum, and zoomed like Wile E. Coyote above the first set of stairs to the landing at the back door, retrieved the pack, and brought it back.
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One of ours loved playing fetch, and used to zip over any furniture in the way to chase things… usually either bread ties or little stuffed mouse toys.
When we set up one of those cheap ripstop-fabric cat trees with a mesh hammock on it, she came up with a new game: put a bread tie in the middle of the hammock, climb underneath, bat at the hammock to bounce the tie in the air until it eventually goes flying away in a random direction… then chase it down, put it back on the hammock, and start the whole thing over again. Was kind of nice to not have to be pushed into participating all the time…
She’ll still do similar things, but is starting to get up there in years so not nearly as obsessive now.
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Sir Puff is still gone. My son is deeply saddened by this, and so am I. It really sucks.
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Hopefully he’ll find his way back. Lost cats are not easily recovered, though at his age he’s probably not ready for an independent life and wants his mama & family.
You might try calling local Animal Control and/or shelters, if you haven’t already, to see if he’s been taken in.
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I’m sorry to hear that! It always sucks to lose a beloved pet…
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I feel you, friend. I will never really get over losing Manny Pearl
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I put flyers up earlier in the week that my son designed & my brother printed out this past Monday and I put them up on the tree in front of the house & on a utility pole on the corner down the street.
Someone called my son (his # was on the flyer), and said that Puff had been picked up by Animal Control. He called them and when they called back, he was told that Puff had been hit by a car and put down.
Fluffy, his mom, and Gracie, his sister, are being brought into the house as soon as is possible.
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Aw, that is sad.
You have my condolences.
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Thank you. He & I established a bond so quickly, it was almost scary.
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Some ferals are like that especially if you meet them at the right time, before they get used to being fully independent.
Many years back I had a couple young adult alley cats who just walked in and made themselves at home, as soon as I opened the door.
ETA: I take that back. THREE cats. How could I forget big, lovable Milo.
Here’s Milo (the big Siamese), Jack (far left), and Scruffy (center rear). Along with Little Tiger (an alley cat my mom caught, who NEVER trusted hoomans), with Midnight curled up behind her (Midnight, the ball-fetcher I mentioned in previous posts, was a Humane Society adoption and the undisputed ruler of the feline clan).
And a better shot of Scruffy:
(Re-ETA: That was a twin bed. Imagine trying to sleep on one with 5 cats pressing against you from all sides! Simply rolling over was an exercise in contortions!)
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That’s terrible. I’m so sorry to hear this. Please take care, Lucy. You’re in our hearts.
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Thank you so much.
I found out at the hand -surgery office, just before leaving it (more on that in the Crazytown thread); my son texted me. My brother had driven me there and we were on the way back to my house and he started telling a fucking story about one of his cats, and I just wasn’t having any of it. I cut him off, telling him I wasn’t in the mood to hear it. Later, he tries to explain why he was gonna tell the story, and I wasn’t having that either. I came very close to telling him it’s not all about him and his damned stories.
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Oh, but the cosy, fuzzy warmth…and the prrrs…and da breathins…
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oh no, i’m so sorry to hear about this. my condolences, Lucy. poor kitty!
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