Ol’ Robbo finds it somewhat odd that of all the cat toys we’ve ever had, by far the biggest bang for our buck has been from these simple plastic springs. Teh kittehs absolutely love them. Indeed, one of them, Ginger, is forever demanding to play fetch with them (or as we call it, “Where’s the Mouse?”).
I’ll throw one of the things down a hall or across a room and she’ll go tearing after it and pouncing. Then she brings it back. Of course, not all the way back, but rayther to a spot just out of my reach, where she will drop it and then stare at me until she gets me to move over to it.
Because in the end, of course, the absolute favorite game of any cat is Manipulation.
UPDATE: Stolen from tonight’s AoSHQ Overnight Thread, an apropos yootube:
As regular friends of the decanter know, we have two young gingers and an elder cat of a color described by Groovy Vic as “shite-brindle”. The younglings and the oldster hate each other and the last year has seen them staking out areas of influence and schedules of occupation. The biggest advantage the former have over the latter is their ability to seize the high ground, given that old Bella is too fat and lazy to jump up on tables, counters and the like.