Pack Rat Cat

We have a large throw rug in our entry way  that is soon to be replaced.  The rubber backing has disintegrated and it crumples up easily.  I shook out the throw rug on Saturday and was surprised to find a number of things that had gone missing  under the rug crumples.  I found the stylus for Husband’s cell phone, several twist ties for bread bags that had disappeared from the counter, and a couple of pens.  How did they get there?

Millie, our Tortie cat, loves to knock things off of tables and counters and bat them on the laminate floor.  They spin so wonderfully, and if you bat them to the throw rugs you can hide them under the rugs and then stick your paws under the rugs and fish them out again.  Since Mom and Dad are tired of smoothing out the throw rug,  treasures can stay there for quite a while.

We have a jar of twist ties in the kitchen that I used to keep on the counter. Millie loved to fish them out of the jar and bat them all over the house. Now they are in the cupboard.  Once, in the middle of the night, I heard her sliding something in the hall, and found her trying to put Husband’s glasses under the rug.  What a great kitty game! She is never bored.

What games do your animals play? What games did you like as a child?






39 thoughts on “Pack Rat Cat”

  1. Rise and Shine Baboons,

    We recently moved a day bed from the porch to a bedroom. That daybed sat squarely in front of dog- level windows in the porch. The dogs now sit there for hours, gazing out the windows, eyes glued to the neighbors’ yard.

    My dogs are, at this very moment, looking out of the now unblocked porch windows, just waiting for the excitement of a rabbit or a squirrel running by. When that occurs, all hell will break loose with barking and leaping and squealing. Half beagle, Lucky’s vocalizations are a wonder. The squirrel and rabbit squeal is a sound of despair–a dog thwarted from Her True Purpose.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. my animals play no games they respond playfully but no batting stuff around or tin foil in the bathtub my dogs do participate in unbridled enthusiasm upon command.i raise my arms like the preacher instructing the sinners in the back of the church to stand up and join the service and shout yehaw and watch the dogs decide who will be the chased and who will be the chaser to initiate the fun. the role will switch 5 or 6 times before they are done with growling snarling and nipping at each other’s neck and hind quarters as part of the routine. i don’t think they’ve ever seen the wolf movies telling them this is the way to behave but they do a good job anyway. the cats will play tag on rare occasions and it is very short lived. they are like diplomats in a consulate office traipsing about when once in a blue moon a wild hair surfaces and a spurt of energy and joy takes over. you can almost see charles laughton straighten the ruffles on the front of of his shirt as the burst ends to be happy perched atop the couch ina ray of sunlight again in perpetuity. me on the other hand… i will pull a bir today and be back later

    tim jones


    Liked by 2 people

  3. Our grey tabby likes to have Millie play with her tail. She runs inside a large paper bag and sticks her tail out of the bag and twitches it so millue comes and bats at it.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. We used to play “Where’s the Milk Bone?” a lot. Our dogs were Brandy and Pukka, a springer and Labrador. They both were hunting dogs. We’d tell them, “Puppies, go hide your eyes.” They’d sit in a small closet in the kitchen, trembling with excitement while we hid Milk Bones all over the rest of the house. When we yelled “Where’s the Milk Bone?” the dogs would fly out of their closet and run around snuffling, trying to find treats. A Milk Bone is not a smelly object, so they had to work hard to find them.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh man, wouldn’t it be exciting if it were a considerable sum? Hope it is. If it is, in fact, an insurance policy from your Dad, perhaps CB should check to see if her name in also listed on the Unclaimed Property site.


  5. We had something called a Cat Dancer – essentially some tufts of cardboard tied to the end of a s thing, springy wire:

    Laughed so hard at the cats, we almost fell off our chairs.
    Ping pong balls were also a hit once we took up the carpeting and had hardwood floors.

    As a kid I loved Star Light Star Bright and Kick the Can in the neighborhood after summer supper. And there was an indoor party game called “Rhythm” : clapping your hands twice on first your thighs, then together (first 4 counts) and then saying your number and someone else’s on counts 5 and 6 – went pretty fast and it was easy to get mixed up as you tried to pass “it” around the circle… TMI?


  6. I have a friend whose cat loves to play fetch, believe it or not. She had to be trained somewhat, as my friend is in a wheelchair and can’t go get the toy. So if said cat wishes to play, she has to fetch the object and bring it to my friend in wheelchair. She will then throw it and cat will run after and fetch it. It’s hilarious. Who knew cats could be trained for this?


  7. Hi-
    Our dogs love to go find dead things to drag home and roll around on.
    And chasing squirrels; that’s always fun. Humphrey learned yesterday he’s just a hair faster than a squirrel but it got a head start on him and *just* made the tree.

    When I refill the bird feeders and I put an ear of corn out, he loves to chase chew up the old cob. First I throw it for him a few times.
    Zoe, the old dog, she’s not much for games anymore. I think she’s partially deaf. But her vision is good; at night she’s always barking at things in the night. She’s a good watch dog.

    Humphrey uses all his will power not to chase chickens when they run past him or fly over his head. I scared one out of the coop the other day and it flew / leaped / jumped over him and he was so excited he couldn’t hardly stand it. But he didn’t grab it.

    Ducks enjoy the rain. And standing outside our bedroom window at night and causing a ruckus. (The whole mating thing..)

    Liked by 2 people

  8. Millie has another game which involves lying on the table while I eat my lunch, and seeing how close she can get her paw to my plate before I push her away. It is really fun to do that and roll around on top of the newspaper I am trying to read.


  9. My childhood dog Boots had many games, many the same as Ben’s. He distained fetch. But tug of war with anything handy he could get a grip on. Liked kick the can; never gave anyone away. Loved the cats, not all liked back because of his wrestling with them. Herded chickens from house on his own volition. Loved climbing ladder up into mow.
    Last dog we had, sweet and loving Samoyed cockapoo cross, did not know how to play except wrestling with cats.
    My daughter’s newest cat does not know how to play with people, only on his own.
    Big medical day. Knocked out. I was down to 6 to go but back to 7.


      1. We constantly see dogs that look much like her. She was white with a dusting of tan on her back. Smaller body than Samoyed and less hair but Samoyed face, ears, and curled tail. How she could shed. Like all huskies raised as pets, she was gentle and loving. She absolutely worshipped Sandy? She was not allowed beyond kitchen, so she followed Sandy around corners by watching her reflection in pictures. But other than that she was dumb, dumb, dumb.

        Liked by 1 person

  10. when i was a kid i played with puzzles and brain games
    i went to ray dewberry house for cards and baseball mostly rumny gin and royal, hearts and bridge,
    all those outdoor games like duck duck grey duck and red rover
    kick the can, hide and seek
    we used to play baseball games with 2 or 3 people if we couldn’t get enough together to have a game of pick up
    that took 6 and you played both ways if you weren’t batting
    football touch and tackle
    500 and games like baseball hittingvrockscwith sticks… over the bottom telephone wire is a single
    over the top a double across the street a homer
    swimming contests
    bike riding rodeos
    tie a bunch of washers on a fishing line and land it in hula hoops way over there…
    frisbees were the greatest invention next to velcro but the case kinda late. i was 10 or 12 and past my formative years
    when we got to organized sports ant the parents coached i got politics in the ear
    coaches kid want to play 3rd
    my qb career ended with hippy hair and jack armstrong jr high coaches
    i wrestled until they wouldn’t let me compete without cutting my hair
    then rock and roll
    what do you like to play?
    acoustic guitar and microphone
    life can be simple

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hard to believe, but the pro came out today and the hoses ran perfectly. He and I have no idea why they didn’t produce water when I tried to use them!


  11. My favorite carpet story is when my parents discarded a shag carpet 4″ thick. Back in the days of avocado appliances. It was olive green (YUK). My then six year old son got into a spaghetti noodle fight with his older brother. They carried on the noodle fight into the room with the long shag carpet. It was so thick that I didn’t know this noodle fight ever occurred. That is, until I had the carpet steamed clean. The noodles were effectively cooked by the steam cleaning. Needless to say, we had to get rid of the carpet.


  12. Humphrey enjoys the squeaky tennis ball toys. I toss them around the house (Yes, Mom, I’m careful) and when he retrieves it he has to make a loop up the hallway, through the laundry room and dining room and back to the living room to give me the ball.
    Sometimes he stops and tries to pick up a second toy. And he can’t ever get two in his mouth at once, but he sure tries. And then bats the second ball around with his paws. So he does have that game.

    Chickens. Specifically, my yellow painted one. It’s become broody. Sitting on eggs. And MEAN! She’ll peck and bite when I get the eggs out from her.
    It’s interesting, the ‘Black Australorp’ breed seem to be the most broody. There’s always one or two of them sitting.
    They’re good chickens in general; good survival instincts. The coyotes go for the light feathered ones more often it seems…
    So this other BA, she’s very calm; doesn’t peck, and I’ve marked 3 eggs that I leave under her. She gathers other eggs from neighboring nest boxes so at night she may have 5 or 6 under her. I leave the 3 and collect the rest. She doesn’t peck, just tries to tuck them back under. I talk with her. Next day she may have moved over to the next box taking her eggs with her.
    But today, she was in her regular box but the three eggs were NEXT DOOR! Perhaps she’s detected they’re not viable. They are a week or so old and maybe she can smell that. But when I put them back over with her, she pulled them under her. So I’ll be curious to see where they are tomorrow. If she’s kicked them out again, I’ll get rid of them. I should get her some plastic easter eggs and see how she handles that.

    But old Yeller… she’s on her own.
    A month or so, she’ll get over it.


  13. Sammy likes to sit on my lap while I’m at the computer. He repeatedly extends one paw over the keyboard. I keep grabbing his paw and pulling it back. If I do’t do that, he either manages to hit the delete key, which sometimes has unfortunate results, or he hooks a claw over the edge of the keyboard and pulls it off the desk. He seems quite pleased with himself when he upsets the keyboard.

    Isabel just likes to steal socks and leave them all over the house.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. I’m not in a very playful mood lately. My massage therapist, who has also become a friend, had surgery today to remove a brain tumor. I have no report on how everything went as yet, and I’m extremely concerned.And there isn’t a damn thing I can do to help. Feel pretty helpless.

    And on Sunday I learned that Ward 6, the brain child of a dear old friend, is closing it’s doors on Sunday. If this sweet little restaurant on Payne Ave. in St. Paul, which in five-and-a-half short years has encouraged the sprouting of other small restaurants in a difficult neighborhood can’t make it, then we’re all doomed. I feel so bad for Bob, he poured his heart and soul into this project, and now he’s faced with it being wiped out by the stroke of a pen.

    We’re a small group of friends who are trying to figure out if there’s a way to reverse this decision, or least buy some time, but given the tight deadline, I don’t know if we’ll succeed.


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