My Cat’s Favorite Toy Is Disgusting
Just like the bunny from The Velveteen Rabbit
Frankie is my youngest cat. Although I still refer to her as a kitten, she’s really half-grown. I suppose she’d be a teenager if she were a human. She’s starting to get lanky. She’s all legs and round tummy (no — she’s not pregnant. I got her spayed last month. She’s just fat).
She’s about seven months old, full of kittenish energy. She plays and plays and plays. If I try to hold her or pet her for too long, she gets antsy. She has far too much playing to do to settle down for more than twenty seconds at a time.
Frankie loves cat toys. My cats have a basket of toys that Frankie makes sure is always on its side (or upside down), with the toys scattered across the house. And of all the toys to choose from, she has chosen a favorite. It’s a little pink mouse. Or, rather, it used to be a little pink mouse. Now it’s a disgusting pink-and-brown blob.
She carries it with her everywhere. I keep finding it on my bed.
I’d like to buy her a new one, but I’m not sure how the gesture would be received. This thing is like the Velveteen Rabbit — to Frankie, it’s not just a toy. It’s a real mouse. If you haven’t read the Velveteen Rabbit, you should know it’s ridiculously sad. And that’s how Frankie would likely feel if I were to toss out this hideous toy.
It looks more like a brain or a bit of hamburger than it does a mouse.
Of course, it is entirely likely that I’m simply anthropomorphizing again. Perhaps cats are not sentimental about their toys. Maybe I’m just projecting my own feelings onto Frankie. I still have my favorite childhood doll — a Fisher Price Lap-sitter doll from the 1970’s. She sits on my shelf next to my sister’s Dressy Bessy doll. Neither doll is in great shape. If someone were to throw them out and replace them with new dolls, I’d be both furious and sad.
Which is why this disgusting blob of dirt and fabric will continue to roll around my house until it falls apart.
