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So for those who don’t know I have a cat. Named Paris.

Paris is a great cat, very playful and pretty social.  She loves people and fish shaped catnip treats.  But more than either of those things, she loves her mouse.

This mouse was a gift from my best friend and his wife who mailed it to me from LA.  It’s a bottle brush with a little leather tail glued on and little eyes drawn on with a sharpie.  It connects to a gold glitter stick by a light gauge wire and in short is kitty crack.

By far her favorite toy and companion, this mouse goes with her just about everywhere.  I come home and it will be sitting in her food bowl as if she’s feeding it.  Open the door to the patio and she trots out, mouse in mouth.  Wake up in the morning to incessant meowing, she’s there at the foot of my bed, mouse on the floor next to her.

When I first got this mouse she would chase it all over the living room and execute impressive chest height flips trying to catch it.  Now we’ve had the mouse for about 6 months or so and she has to be really bored to do any sort of jumping or vigorous chasing. What she does like to do now though is crouch and encourage my swinging it around the room.  This, of course, makes me think she’s going to chase it and therefore I continue to swing it around and wiggle it behind couch legs, my shoes etc etc… Meanwhile, back on her kitty couch (which was formerly my laundry basket) she’s just hanging out watching me, occasionally batting a paw in the general direction of the mouse no doubt to keep me going.  I think I have become her Netflix.