SacPaws.com

For the longest time, I was feeling kind of proud. Smug, even.

My cat Poppy was so supremely smart that she never touched my son's baby toys. Ever. It's amazing, really.

Take a look at a good cat toy (excluding the obvious catnip and Cat Dancers). Typically small. Soft. Biteable. With maybe some feathers or faux hair on it for added flair.

Then take a look at a good baby toy (excluding the obvious cars, drivable toys and bouncers). Typically small. Soft. Biteable. With maybe some feathers or faux hair on it for added flair.
You see the problem.

But as I said Poppy has never touched his toys. My son can be chewing on something that quite honestly I have to wrestle away from him to make sure it isn't a cat toy and my cat will amble by quite disinterested. At night, baby is asleep leaving a veritable treasure trove of toys but cat leaves them alone. She has one basket of cat toys that she draws from instead and from this she never strays.

Last weekend, my son who is now a full-fledged crawler discovered her basket of goodies and by God, it was like Christmas morning! He pulled toy after toy out of this basket with a look of miraculous wonder on his face. Where have these toys been all my life? he seemed to say.

And with that, the precious line separating cat toys and baby toys was crossed. I've moved the basket and am hoping he has forgotten those toys ever existed (not likely).

On a good note, Poppy remains blissfully unaware that his toys could be any good. And at least for that, I'm grateful.