I have two rambunctious cats. Both of them have their favorite varieties of toys. The striped one likes toys that can be thrown and fit in her mouth because she likes to play fetch. The black one likes toys attached to strings and wands because she likes to chase them and do backflips in the air trying to catch them.
A few months ago, I bought them some new toys. I bought a fox with a squeaker, and a mouse attached to a string and wand with a squeaker. The striped one liked the fox–it was easy to carry and only squeaked every once in a while. She carries it all around the house. The mouse, however, squeaked every time it moved and the black cat was TERRIFIED of it.
So, being the excellent cat-mother that I am, I stomped on the mouse to kill the squeaker inside. It worked! And once she figured out it no longer squeaked, we were able to play.
When we were playing the other night, everything was great up until the point it started squeaking again. The cat ran away, and I sat in the armchair, baffled. It was dead. Now, it is undead.
It goes from being silent one moment to squeaky the next. It’s a little creepy, this zombie cat toy. *Shudder*
In other news, I managed to pull a muscle in my back yesterday. While doing laundry. No, not lifting the laundry basket or anything like that. I had the clothes on my bed, and I bent down to pick up a sock and fold it. And then I pulled a muscle. Because I’m awesome.
I hope you all had an excellent holiday! I have some funny stories to tell you later this week. Have a good Monday.