My Tidy Cat

I’ve found cat toys in all kinds of fun places: in the wastebasket, floating in the counter top fountain, atop shelved books, once even placed gently in the front paws of a sleeping cat statue .  At least all hundred of them aren’t strewn across the floor.

This one gets an award for Most Comical Use of a Cat Toy.

Someone cracked open the litter scoop’s holder and jammed a furry squirrel toy inside.  Odds are that Monty was the culprit.  He has a track record of going above and beyond normal cat behavior.

In my yoga class, our teacher will give us instruction on an exercise, adding “if you wish more work”, you can modify the pose.  I almost never do.  Monty, though, always wishes for more work.  He really ought to be more fit than he is, as he invariably makes his little workouts more difficult.  Playing with a toy isn’t just batting the thing around, it’s batting the toy while leaping over and around the rungs of a chair.  Stretching usually involves pulling something off the wall.   Hanging off the edge of the kitchen counter and opening a drawer with his dangling front paws, that’s Monty.

There may be another culprit in my household, but I’m putting my money on Monty.

The squirrel, brushed off and ready for more fun

Sacked out. Being a house cat is tough work.

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