Learning the joys of toys
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Feathers tickle the heartstrings of both Yoyo and Varee
CALL THREE-LEGGED Varee a connoisseur of cat toys. The toy can be soft and fuzzy, plastic with little bells, a cloth mouse stuffed with cotton or any variation, and she loves it immediately.
She rolls over on her back, clutches the toy with her front legs, and waves her three legs and the one stump around.
Varee is a born thief, having stashed the other cats’ toys in secret corners known only to her. At night, as the rest of us settle down to sleep, I hear a jingle, jingle, jingle as Varee plays with a toy or two.
I never had to teach Varee the joys of toys. As soon as she joined the household, even before she became comfortable with me, she turned joyously to any toy she could find.
Some cats are just like Varee. They know instinctively how to have fun with any feline plaything. Other cats need to be taught.
I’m constantly surprised when I see people trying to interest their cat in a toy. The cat-owner waves the toy in front of the cat’s nose, taps the cat’s head with it, and then gives up.
Their cat, they tell me, simply doesn’t like toys. Well, would you be interested in a strange thing that’s bumping your nose and eyes?
My cats favour the toys that come with a long piece of string attached to a plastic stick. I favour these too, although I’m careful never to wrap the string around a cat's neck.
Wait for the cat to sit or lie down, then hold the stick and run the toy on the floor near the cat’s paws. Move the toy back and forth on the floor to imitate a little mouse trying to escape the cat. These movements should start encouraging the cat’s hunting instinct, her need to catch things.
Of course, the cat knows that the toy isn’t really a mouse. I imagine she’s simply willing to help us entertain ourselves.
My boy Yoyo prefers to begin each day with his toy mouse. You wouldn't recognise it as a mouse anymore; he’s already “killed” it several times, but he still loves hunting it, even chasing it up a wall.
The toy mouse, however, is Yoyo’s second favourite toy. His absolute favourite has feathers, but feathers, alas, are the first to be pulled off any toy. This morning, I find a shop selling a well-made cat-toy with lots of feathers, and I buy one just for the boy.
In the evening, in Yoyo’s bedroom, I show him the new toy. He’s ecstatic, chasing the feathers back and forth. As he leaps high up the wall to catch them, I glance at the door. It’s a screen door, and there, on the other side, is Varee.
She owns all the toys in the house, but she’s staring at the feathers with yearning, with desire.
I saw such a look just recently, in a department store, where a little girl and her mama were buying clothes.
As Mama studied T-shirts and jeans, the little girl was staring at a child-sized mannequin dressed in an exquisite princess gown, pink silk and satin, with flounces floating from the arms and around the waist and hem. It even had a little tiara.
How that little girl yearned for this gown of dreams, but Mama, busy buying practical clothes, didn’t notice. When she called her daughter to try on some clothes, the little girl dutifully returned.
Varee is not so dutiful but a great deal more determined. The next day, after Yoyo comes downstairs, I find the feather toy in one of Varee’s personal piles.
What that cat wants, she gets.
