When little Miss Clementine came to live with me, I realized that I really didn't have any cat toys. at least I didn't have any commercially produced ones. So I looked around my place and found a few things that I thought she'd like. A mesh hamper became a great toy. It could be a fort, a prison, something to hide things under or anything else she made it into. Cardboard boxes became caves that a fierce kitten could pounce from on unwitting ankles. And yarn, well, yarn could be wound around a number of things if loose, or it could be wound tightly into balls she could pick up in her mouth and carry around. So, I made many, many yarn balls. About eight in light green and six in maroon, and a few assorted others as I found bits of yarn.
Clem and I played with those yarn balls by the hour. I'd throw them, she'd chase them, and then she'd bring them back so I could throw them again. She even got good at intercepting them, and then she'd bat them around the room on her own. My constant question to her was, "Where's yarn balls?" After a week or two of that, she started coming straight to me when I asked that, and figured out that she thought her name was yarn balls. Cute, but not her name. So, I spent some time talking to her about things other than yarn balls, and got her a cat tunnel. She likes that a lot,
I noticed that some days there are no yarn balls in sight, and that if we want to play we need to hunt them down. Maybe one is in the bathroom closet, or perhaps in the cords for the computer Other days I'd come in and there would be five or six of them in the dining room, only to have then disappear by the end of the evening. Occasionally one would unravel, and I'd have to put it back together, securing its tail though the middle to keep it from unravelling so quickly.
This week I didn't see any for at least two days. Yeah, we'd had an earthquake and hurricane in quick succession, so maybe those yarn balls hid on their own, and perhaps they'd found very safe and secure places to hide. Or maybe Clem had put them in those secure places to make sure nothing happened to them.
I looked at Clem and began to sing (with apologies to Pete Seeger)
Where have all the yarn balls gone
Long time passing
Where have all the yarn balls gone
Long time ago
Where have all the yarn balls gone
Under couches every one
When will they ever learn
When will they ever learn?
Continuing on in the same vein I came up with a second verse -
Where have all the couches gone
Long time passing
Where have all the couches gone
Long time ago
Where have all the couches gone
Clawed by kitties every one
When will they ever learn
When will they ever learn?
And for the grand finale -
Where have all the kitties gone
Long time passing
Where have all the kitties gone
Long time ago
Where have all the kitties gone
Chasing yarn balls every one
When will they every learn
When will they ever learn?
Clem appreciated the song. Of course she did. I was obviously singing just for her, and rubbing her head and belly while I sang to her. After which, I rooted around under the china cabinet, found a yarn ball and we started playing all over again.
I could make many more yarn balls, so it would be nearly impossible not to have one, but I think the game is a bit more valuable when you need to make a little effort to find the equipment you need. I don't know if Clem knows the difference, but at least I think she knows her name isn't Yarnball.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
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