Where's Cleo?

Bet you can't find her.

Nope, that's not her.

Wouldn't be under the bed.

Pay no attention to the cat behind the curtain.

What?

Play Ball!

No, this isn't a baseball-themed post.  I don't give two hoots about that.  Mom, dad and I have our games we like to play, one of which I also enjoy playing solo.

     I have my three little fuzzy balls that jingle when you toss them, and even though I'm a senior cat I love my play time. 

Mom and dad fling the a ball back and forth right near me, and even though I try to play like I'm not interested, before long they got me swiping away at the ball as they pass it back and forth.

     Now and then I don't let them have it back, and I'll continue to play with the darned thing by myself, grabbing it, biting it, kicking at it and tossing it up in the air or against the wall. 

     Good gosh, sometimes I get all crazy and feisty and lose control, batting and swiping at anything that gets too close. Hands, especially (sorry mom and dad). 

And then I stop.  Not interested in this silly child's play.  Nope.  Too mature for that.  Sorry this last one's so blurry.  Dad has too much coffee sometimes.  Okay, dad has too much coffee every day.  Sometimes he can't seem to hold his phone still. 
     

Remember My "Where's the Poop" Post?

Well, this one's not quite as graphic.  Another refrigerator, another apartment formerly occupied by a person with a cat.  I think.
     This time, when dad pulled out the fridge he found a cluster of crumpled up papers.  Grocery receipts, notes, post-its, etc. made up this little collection of things that had been swatted, batted or maybe just simply placed beneath the refrigerator.
    I'm guessing that, as with the poop dad found, these balls of paper were someone's toys that found their final resting place under the fridge.
     If you look at this photo and just visualize each crumpled piece as a ball of pee or log of poop, you will have a good idea of what that other situation looked like.