It's a beautiful spring Friday morning, and I've got the day off.  Before I go outside and enjoy the day, here's a little story from 2003 about how our Good Cats find fun around the house.

   There's a contest going on now to determine "America's friskiest cat" (and to help sell cat food, too).  The winner will receive, among other things, a complete room makeover that will endeavor to turn it into the ideal playroom for your feline companion.  It sounds interesting, but I don't know if we're going to enter.  Of course, we want good things for our Good Cats, but it's not necessary for us to spend money, even someone else's money, to determine what they really want.

   Like many others who are owned by a cat, we have learned that the more you spend for something, the less likely it is the cat will enjoy it.  If we were to remodel a room for them, then we would need to spend as little as possible, which is something we found out a few years ago while packing and preparing to move to another house.  Boxes were stacked all over the place, and all our cats, even timid Lizzie, quickly took advantage, finding new fun places to play, hide, and pounce on one another.

   The favorite toy of our Good Cats these days wasn't bought in a store.   The plaything they love the most, the one that even lazy Kelly will bestir himself to play with, is a long, thin piece of yellow plastic that came to us strapped around a box.   Pat whips it around like a skinny yellow snake, and the cats fall all over themselves (and each other) chasing it.

   Someone is going to win that $10,000 room makeover, though, and after the carpenters have finished their work, after the sawdust has settled, and when the toys, the cat stands, and all the rest are in place, the cat ownee is probably going to find their little furball playing -- and having a grand old time -- in the cardboard boxes they came in.