9 thoughts on “Just because kitty blogging”

  3. They are in “Cat Toy Space”, an alternate universe similar to “L-space” familiar to Terry Pratchett fans.
    Since the arrival of her kittens, my momma cat has hauled out a series of toys that have long since judged as missing in action. The worst part of it is that many of them appear to be as unused as the day they were bought. She has been storing them up for use during a cat toy famine and brought them out to protect her favorites from use by the kittens.

  4. LOL Bryan!
    lb0313 some were under the frig but I put something down so he couldn’t shove them under there anymore. Now I don’t know where he’s putting them. In hindsight I think blocking the frig was perhaps a mistake. At least then I knew where at least some of them were.

  6. or under anything with a tiny space for them to hit things under. pansy would always ALWAYS bat things under this very low teevee stand. on purpose. cause it was fun trying to get the things out again. luckily i don’t have many toys. they did like those mice, but a rabbits foot will do! love love love the rabbits feet. and mink bits.
    hmm, i should send you a mink face.(got a little baggies of mink tails from an estate sale not knowing it had 4 ‘faces! EEEEEW). i should go toy hunting under the chest again. always find about 6 toys there.

  7. Bryan nailed it. “Cat Toy Space” is akin to the place where the other sock goes.
    Willie B isn’t eating the toys — you’d know it by now if he were. Someday, probably the next time you move and have to displace all the furniture, you’ll be amazed at his ingenuity and creativity in finding places to “store” his toys, much as a squirrel stores acorns.
    Willie B is getting so long and lanky, and his stripes are beautifully defined. He’s growing up — too fast! — into one gorgeous cat.
    Peace, V.

  8. I know when our catz have squirreled away their toyz when my shoez start vanishing. I’m hoping to find all of my stolen jewelry when we get back into our house.

  9. You’d be amazed at where they end up. When I moved three months ago, I found a half-dozen soft balls in a closet. She’d shoved them under the door and couldn’t fish them back out. (I had the closet cram-full of stuff and finding kitty toys was the last thing I wanted to do.) I found others in drawers in the kitchen (she’s able to open them). Under the bed. Behind the bookcases. I came up with nearly two dozen toys that had been “lost” over the years. I stuck them in a box, which remained in my entry hall for two months. Until the day she discovered the bag of toys and hauled EVERY SINGLE ONE of them out while I was at work, and scattered them hither, thither and yon.
    She’s happy. I keep finding little furry mice in my kitchen drawers.

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