Young human children
understand that the best toys are boxes and wrapping paper, not whatever was in
the packaging. Except for my toy mice, my favourite toys are "discards,"
especially anything string-like.
A long piece of
grass waved like string is excellent for jumping, pouncing, chasing in circles,
or just about any other hunting behaviour. The best part about playing with
grass is that I can eat it when I am done with it. My human insists grass must
be twice as long as I am before she will play with me, something about my sharp
bits drawing blood otherwise. It is not my fault that humans have such thin
skin, and her fingers end up between me and the grass.
Apparently I have to
leave discussions of live bird pouncing for another post. Anyway, in Australia,
the sulphur-crested cockatoos shed lovely long white and yellow feathers, which
are perfect for artificial bird games, which my humans call "feather." The best
game of feather is to stand on the cat tree and have the human run the feather
under the platform or along the post so one has to listen, track, then pounce.
Again, my human insists feathers have to be a certain length before she will
play because she has been tagged by my sharp bits too many times. Really, she
needs to pay more attention, work on her reaction times, and just admit that I
am simply a superior hunter. "String feather" involves tying a feather to a string
and having a human move it while one jumps to catch it.
One of my nicknames
is "String Thing" for a good reason. If it looks like string and twitches like
string, it must be string and therefore needs to be pounced. My favourite piece
of string is a long edge of silk fabric and silver thread that my human said was
a thin rolled hem she cut off a sewing project. She was actually going to throw
this treasure in the garbage! Obviously she was not thinking, as it is one of
the best cat toys ever found in our house. It has gradually been worn down from
a length of approximately two meters to about one meter, and I have heard
sacrilegious comments about it becoming too short because my sharp bits are
moving too close. (Sigh.) My human really needs more
training.
My favourite found
toy is always wrapping paper. It just cries out to be shredded. There is
nothing like sinking ones claws and teeth into a stiff piece of wrapping paper,
and ripping. It wants to revert to its natural state of a million individual
fibers. I am not creating a mess, I am aiding entropy, the inherent tendency
towards the dissipation of useful energy.
Wrapping paper is
also excellent as a screen for setting up an ambush. My human thinks this
picture speaks for itself, and would direct your attention to the sharp
bits.
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| Santa Claws always brings the best presents |
Next time, we will
discuss the joys of live toys.
