Pete's Expert Summary
My human seems to have procured a piece of equipment for the smaller, louder human in the household. It is called a "Baby Doll Carrier," a saccharine pink fabric pouch intended for strapping inanimate effigies to one's body. I am told it is 100% cotton, which might have some merit if it were, say, a blanket placed in my sunning spot, but its primary function is utterly absurd. The most offensive detail, however, is the explicit warning that it "should NEVER be used to carry... live animals." The sheer audacity. As if I, Pete, in all my distinguished, tuxedo-clad glory, would ever submit to such a pedestrian form of transport. It is a testament to human foolishness, though I suppose its structural integrity could be tested as a makeshift hammock, should I find the right two anchor points.
Key Features
- [Comfortable Fabric] 100% cotton, soft and lightweight, safe and comfortable to children’s little shoulders;
- [Easy to use] Snap fastener on each shoulder strap, it’s convenient for children to place dolls, stuffed animals, plush toys into the doll carrier pouch by unfastening snap fasteners;
- [3 Carrying Ways] This well-made doll carrier can be worn in 3 ways: Facing-in, Facing-out, Back carry;
- [Dimension] 0.25lb, 13'' x 11'' (L x W); The shoulder straps can be adjusted to 23'' maximum;
- [Recommendation] Excellent doll accessory to carry baby dolls or stuffed animals, it’s an adorable gift for kids. This doll carrier should NEVER be used to carry children or live animals;
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The object arrived in a crinkly plastic shroud, its peach-blossom pattern an assault on my refined grayscale sensibilities. The Small One, my human’s miniature and far less competent subordinate, immediately strapped her glassy-eyed doll into it. She paraded the poor thing around like a war trophy, cooing at it. I watched from my perch atop the bookcase, my tail-tip twitching in irritation. It wasn’t the doll I objected to—that vacant creature was beneath my notice. It was the principle. This "carrier" was a new throne, a portable pedestal, and its occupant was not me. This injustice could not stand. That evening, under the cloak of a moonless night, I commenced my investigation. The carrier had been carelessly discarded on the living room rug, a heap of soft pink cotton and dangling straps. I circled it thrice, my paws silent on the plush fibers. My sources—the human’s incessant babbling—had mentioned "snap fasteners." I located one near the shoulder strap and tested it with a single, extended claw. *Click.* It popped open with surprising ease. A flimsy security system, indeed. The pouch itself was soft, I’ll grant it that. It smelled faintly of the Small One and plastic. An unappealing combination. I considered, for a fleeting moment, simply claiming it as a bed. But that felt too simple, too predictable. A creature of my stature required a more definitive statement. I spied my arch-nemesis, the small, squeaky mouse toy that had long since lost its squeaker but not my ire. I nudged it with my nose, rolling it painstakingly across the floor until it was positioned perfectly. Then, with the surgical precision of a seasoned hunter, I hooked the mouse with my claws and deposited it deep inside the carrier’s pouch. I then used my head to nudge the snap closed, securing the prisoner within its floral cell. The next morning, the Small One let out a wail of confusion upon finding her doll unceremoniously evicted and the mouse toy imprisoned in its place. My human chuckled, calling me a "silly boy." They misunderstood completely. It wasn't silliness; it was a coup. I had overthrown the pretender and installed a new, far less threatening regime. The carrier was not a toy to be played with, but a tool of political maneuvering. And as I groomed my pristine white chest from the comfort of the sofa, I knew I had once again proven who truly runs this household. The carrier was beneath me, but it could still be made useful.
