In case any prospective adopters are reading this, I’d like to point out something about one of my foster-cats, Kola. He enjoys playing.
He doesn’t do it all the time. He’s eleven years old and, though that means a certain stateliness begins to be seen in cats, there is plenty of activity left in the Floof King yet. He enjoys the string toy most of all. He will wrestle and roll about with it, trying to bite it. He knows he has no claws in his forepaws, so he uses his feet to pull the toy to his mouth, where he can teach it a lesson.
That is his favourite activity but recently, I’ve seen another. He is braving the sitting room more, even in the presence of Tucker, and likes a romp with some of the fuzzy mice there. There are several of these in the parlour, too; I can tell he picks on them because they keep disappearing. I find them when I clean the room and move the furniture.
But now Kola has found the fun of a ball. The simple globe, whether a rubbery yellow one or a smaller fuzzy one (with most of the fuzz chewed off), gives him some novel delight. Why a cat will roll a ball into a tight corner where a human must be called upon to rescue it, I don’t know. It’s probably instinctive, like throwing up on upholstered surfaces. Kola doesn’t chase the ball, as Cammie or Tucker will, but will fight with it when on his own, or wait for it to be propelled gently into his long fur, if a human is handy to help in this.
The floofy one is an excellent example of how a cat whom veterinarians call ‘senior’ can be just as active as a youngster. It’s true that he isn’t tearing up the floorboards with his speed all the time. But there is a vitality about him that has nothing to do with seniority. Kola often thinks like a youngster. I hope to take some pictures of him waiting impatiently to box with me, or excitedly hiding behind the nylon tunnel daring Josie to come and get him. For now, take my word - and these photographs - for it: this is one senior who is not ready for retirement.