I love all kinds of animals, including the stuffed ones you find on the shelves of your favorite stores. Always have. When we left our ranch for city life several years ago, we could no longer have many of the animals we once had living out in the country. Though the real dog, cats, and fish would continue on with us, the population of stuffed animals increased in our home. I like to have them residing in my bedroom and around my home office. It makes me smile and feel good to see them there each day as I go about my chores, writing, etc.
But almost since the day this cat came into our lives as a small kitten, some four years ago now, things changed. We quickly became aware of her infatuation with every stuffed animal she encountered. Any shape or size, it’s all the same to her. She can sniff out a stuffed animal, even on a high up shelf, and the hunt is on. She will find a creative way to reach said object, grab it in her teeth, and drag it away. After trying a variety of things to dissuade her of this fetish; cat toys, a stuffed animal of her own, and finding nothing deterred her, we resigned the poor stuffed animals to our bedroom and no longer leave its door open. It became a “no cats allowed” room.
Everything has been going along quite well in this aspect for some time now…that is, until I brought home a small pet rug this week to put in the cardboard box the cats love to snooze in near my office desk. You know, the kind of boxes that stores like Costco pack your items in instead of bags. I choose a low sided one they seemed to favor. The cats have so much fun lying in these boxes down in the kitchen after I’d emptied them, I brought one upstairs for them to use. It has turned out the perfect bed for them, that is, when they’re not sleeping on our computer chairs.
Being the human that I am, I thought to improve the comfort of the box. I bought a small pet rug I spotted on clearance from a local pet store I was purchasing catfood at. I placed it in the said box and watched as each cat sniffed out the new addition. Though leary at first, they seemed to accept it soon enough, so I went about my daily activities, typing at my computer.
But before long, I happened to turn around and there was our Russian Blue, her teeth firmly gipping one side of the rug, attempting to pull it from the cardboard box and drag it off.
Who knows, maybe they’ll write a song about her one day…”The Material Cat.”