All in a Day's play
My pets, for all intents and purposes, are my children. Now I'm sure some people probably shake their heads at that notion, but it really is very much the truth.
They sleep a lot, just like children. They eat all the time, just like children. If they are unhappy about something, they pout and cry and fuss, just like children. They spend a good portion of their day playing, just like children. They run and jump and chew and wrestle and fetch and carry and bark and meow and generally run from one end of the house to the other, just like children. And, just like children, they all have their favorite toys.
If you are the typical "parent," you have probably spent a small fortune on toys for your favorite cat, dog or other. There isn't a cat owner in the world that hasn't at one time or another bought a pink fuzzy catnip-stuff mouse for Fluffy. Likewise, there isn't a dog household that is without a squeaking animal of some species lurking about somewhere. The new pet-warehouse stores are the FAO Schwarz of the animal kingdom with aisle after aisle of things to chew and squeak and fetch.
For dogs, there are pig ears, cow tails and tubes (I don't even want to know), and rawhide pressed and molded into every shape, size and flavor imaginable. There are sweaters and raincoats and caps and scarves and booties (for those walks on rainy days). There are heated water bowls and self-dispensing food dishes and machines that dispense a variety of treats at the touch of a paw or nudge of a nose. All in all, it's a veritable cornucopia of canine delights for the taking.
Not to be outdone, felines can choose from an endless assortment of catnip-laced mice, a bounty of bells and balls and baubles of all shapes and sizes. There are feathers that fly and balls that bounce on the end of a spring. There are sacks that crinkle and tunnels that collapse and things that hop and bounce and dart and sway. There are carpeted towers and castles and tree houses--all with secret crevices and hiding spaces galore--just waiting to be scratched, climbed and explored. It is without a doubt a virtual feline fantasyland.
What pet could resist such splendor? What pet wouldn't have hours and hours and hours of fun with a catnip stuffed Newt Gingrich doll or a bagel-shaped peanut butter-flavored rawhide chew? What pet has its own Visa card to pay for any of this stuff?
Hey, it's like the ad says: Cats don't have jobs. But we, their parents, do and boy do they ever reap the benefits.
See if this sounds familiar:
You come home from your monthly visit to your friendly neighborhood MegaMultiPetDiscountMart and, in addition to your regular supplies (a case (or two) of dog food, three cases or so of cat food, a dozen feeder fish, two bags of kitty litter and assorted meds) you have: TREATS and TOYS!!
The dog, suspecting you might have food, is waiting at the door and promptly gets a pig ear. Yes, they are revolting, but dogs love them so you try to squelch your disgust. It immediately snatches it away and disappears. Slurping and munching sounds emanate from the far reaches of the house.
By this time, the cats have appeared. They have noticed the dog and figured that because your are a parent who loves all their children equally that you have brought them something as well. They take turns rubbing against your legs (usually while you're carrying something heavy) and meowing frantically which is to say: If you don't give us something right now we will die. This, of course, is not the case, but better safe than sorry, so you produce a new bag of fuzzy mice. You know the ones I mean--the kind with realistic fur. So real, in fact, that when you step on them barefoot in the middle of the night you shriek and flail mistaking them for REAL mice. The kind that are filled with sawdust so that when a cat floats them in the toilet bowl (and you know one eventually will) they disintegrate into this disgusting wet furry blob which the cat scoops out and delivers to your pillow for your inspection. The kind where months later all that remains is a tiny little realistic fur pelt which they so thoughtfully leave beside you in the morning--just to get your heart started right away.
Upon seeing the mice, their eyes sparkle, their tails twitch and they move merrily away, en masse, deftly flipping the mice ahead of them.
Ah, you think to yourself. They are happy. They are playing. They are OCCUPIED. I can finally do something just for me.
Five minutes after you have this thought, the dog appears. Its breath smells like it has been licking the inside of a grill. Where's your chew toy, you ask? "MWWAAMWWWAH" is what the dog hears so it stands there, looking at you and panting. When you check, all that remains of the pig ear is a large wet, greasy spot in the middle of your favorite comforter. Well, that was ten minutes of fun for all, wasn't it?
By this time, the some of the cats have reappeared. They are, you notice, mouseless. You notice this because they are doing the "pay attention to me" dance--meowing and rubbing. Being the properly trained parent, you perform your task at their prompt: You pick up a broom and run the handle under all the furniture to retrieve a dozen or so mice that have been batted underneath. It is one of their favorite games and it keeps all parties (yourself included) occupied for hours.
Leaving these two cats with their mice, you look to see what has become of their siblings. With pets, as with children, you become really nervous if you don't know where they are and what they are doing at all times. You find them in the bathroom merrily swatting around the cap to a fluorescent marker. Pretty soon the other two cats appear and they all end up playing with the marker cap, their fancy mice with the realistic fur forgotten and left to gather dust under the stereo cabinet.
Actually I learned my lesson about expensive pet toys when we bought one of those high-rise carpeted cat towers. It was so cute I just had to have one. We spent a good hour putting it together and another hour making room for it in the house. All of the cats played on it for the rest of the afternoon. That night, when making rounds before bed, I noticed that not one cat was sleeping in either of the little houses. Boo and Murphy were sleeping in office chairs in the den, Max was curled up on the couch and Smudge was asleep in a carry-out bag we had brought home that morning from McDonald's. To date, not a single cat has slept in that tower but they fight over who gets to sleep in that paper sack.
Tale of the Register Tape: Cat Tower--$130, McDonald's Bag--$3.49 with coffee and Danish included.
Moral of the Story: When it comes to buying toys for your pets, it becomes rather like the story about the toddler who spends Christmas morning unwrapping dozens of expensive toys then spends the rest of the day playing with the wrapping paper. All these fancy new designer pet store toys are nice, but sooner or later all pet parents finally figure out that their feline and canine children are just as happy with a plain old grocery bag or an ice cube or a tennis ball. It is just as much fun and a whole lot easier on their parent's Visa card.
Of course, if you play with it with them, then it becomes the best pet toy of all.