I had fully intended to write a post about Charlie's new obsession - a bright green plastic spring - but recent developments have turned this into a post of another sort, about what happens to cat toys when they go to die.
Truth be told, I first received the spring over the summer at BlogPaws in a goodie bag, thoughtfully prepared by our friends at Curlz and Swirlz... and Coffee Cats n' Yarn. Among cat food, a cool wooden top (also a big hit), and assorted other cat distractions, Charlie's paws down favorite gift was the tiny lime colored coil, simple in nature and measuring no more than two inches in length.
"Springy," as he (yes, HE) is affectionately known has been MIA for quite awhile, along with Charlie's other favorite toy, "Witchy" - an orange ball with a bell inside, with a black witch's hat on its head and one eye still stuck on its face. Although he has tons of other beautiful, high quality (and non-missing) toys, this weekend I decided to go on a a quest to seek out his old pals, who were probably nestled away somewhere, just out of paws reach.
Flashlight and hot pink yardstick in hand, I flatted myself out on the floor and made my first stop: under the stove. Lo and behold, among the dust bunnies and wayward fur mice, the little green coil emerged (Witchy is still on the lam).
Charlie played with that coil all week, for HOURS on end, chasing it in circles and adorably toting it around in his mouth - and I spent no less than half of that time back on the floor, fishing it out from under appliances and pieces of furniture. Barricades were made; "Why are there tin foil boxes lined up in front of the stove?" some may have wondered, but no matter what I tried, that damn spring kept finding itself in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I planned on writing a post about Springy today, focusing on why Charlie is so obsessed with it, and asking, "Is your cat obsessed with something, too?" But as of yesterday, Springy has gone missing again - and I fear that this time it's for good.
My favorite theory is that Priscilla is hiding him in her furry tummy pouch, just to make Charlie's life a little bit more miserable - but maybe like socks, cat toys like Springy and Witchy have their own secret portal under the stove or the couch, where they go to retire when they've had enough. An island, where they're allowed to bask in the sun alongside all of the other missing mice, milk rings, and hair elastics, secure in the knowledge that they lived a good life being the favorite toy of a little black cat in New Jersey who loved them so.