Tucker ignored the cylinder-house cat-tree for so long that I assumed he either had no interest in it, or could not climb into it, or both. Eventually, he showed me that he could hoist himself into it, and quite handily, too. Even so, he generally left it to Renn, as seen here.
But lately, the roly poly has been enjoying the curved comfort of the cylinder-house. He also likes the fact that it provides plenty of prospects for playing peek-a-boo. Yes, Tucker, long thought of as the baby of the family (though Renn is younger) becomes quite happy playing that simple game. Whether I use the partition that separates the dining area from the entrance vestibule, or whether I look in one side of the cylinder-house and then the other, Tucker seems to get a kick out of it.
The cylinder-house, however, gives him scope to twist and turn, looking at me sideways, then upside down, first to the right, then to the left. His purrs at such fun can become quite loud, and he squeals when I grab the top of his head unexpectedly. His stubby forelegs can barely reach my fingers, which merely makes him squirm all the more.
Though the cylinder-house cat-tree has never faced a window, it has rarely lacked for occupants. Indeed, its structure makes it rather disadvantageous for viewing the scenery, and is much better to use for slumber. And, as Tucker demonstrates, for playing.