Pete's Expert Summary
So, the Human has presented me with a miniature, silent effigy of a small human. Apparently, this object, which reeks faintly and not unpleasantly of vanilla, is a "baby doll." Its purpose seems to be to occupy the smaller Human's attention, a role I had, until this moment, considered exclusively my own. It is advertised as being soft and filled with beans, which piques my interest from a purely tactile standpoint. However, its primary features appear to be a disturbingly placid face and an inertness that borders on the insulting. While its potential as a supplemental napping pillow cannot be entirely dismissed, I suspect it will ultimately prove to be a profound waste of my valuable time and a pointless competitor for sunbeams.
Key Features
- A top-selling favorite of families year after year - Join the thousands of families and happy children that have chosen the charming pastel baby doll as a special partner in play
- Creating a special bond between child and doll - with a reassuring face, a delicate scent of vanilla and the perfect soft-body feel, Corolle dolls make an immediate and long-lasting connection with kids
- Designed for nurturing play and development - the soft, bean-filled body is perfectly sized at 12” tall for kids ages 18 months and up who need a doll that is small, lightweight and easy to grasp, hold and carry
- Enjoy premium quality and stylish design from a TRUSTED name in dolls - for over 30 years, Corolle dolls has been a leader in designing nurturing dolls that stand out from the rest
- Grow with Corolle - with a wide selection of clothing and accessories for 12” dolls in the Corolle Mon premier collection, easily expand the world of Corolle at home and increase the play value as kids get older
A Tale from Pete the Cat
It arrived in one of those brown, crinkly dens the delivery person brings. The Human made a great show of opening it, her voice taking on that high, cooing pitch usually reserved for me when I’ve done something particularly magnificent, like fitting into a shoebox. She pulled out the creature. It was limp, dressed in an offensive shade of pale pink, and stared at me with wide, glassy blue eyes. The air filled with the scent of vanilla, a strange, sweet dustiness that made my nose twitch. I gave it a cursory sniff, registered its lack of a heartbeat or any interesting biological data, and turned my tail to it. A stationary object without feathers or a crinkle sound is hardly worth a second glance. Later that evening, while conducting my nightly patrol of the sofa cushions, I saw it again. It had been left lying on its back. But something was wrong. Its eyes, those same glassy blue orbs, were now closed. My ears swiveled, scanning for threats. Had it… blinked? I crept closer, my gray tuxedo blending into the twilight of the room. I watched it for a full minute. Nothing. It was a sleeper, then. A silent, unmoving sleeper. This was deeply suspicious. No creature sleeps so soundly, so perfectly still. This was a ruse. It was observing me through its eyelids. My professional curiosity got the better of my aristocratic languor. I extended a single, perfect claw and hooked the soft fabric of its torso. With a surgeon's precision, I rolled the doll onto its side. There was a faint, plastic *click*, and the eyes snapped open, staring sightlessly at the wall. I froze, my tail giving a single, agitated flick. A trap! But it didn't move. I nudged it back onto its back. *Click.* The eyes slid shut. Ah, I understood. It was a simple mechanism, a trick of gravity and weighted eyelids. It wasn't a spy; it was just a cleverly engineered bit of refuse. The threat neutralized, my disdain returned, but it was now tempered with a new understanding. The fraud was exposed, but its bean-filled body did have a satisfying weight and texture beneath my paws. As a test, I began to knead its soft midsection. The feedback was… acceptable. Not as good as the Human's softest blanket, but better than the arm of the sofa. I would not dignify this thing with "play," of course. But I decided, in my infinite magnanimity, that should the small Human leave it discarded in a particularly comfortable spot, I might permit it to serve as a chin-rest. It had, after a rigorous vetting process, proven itself to be a harmless, if vapid, piece of furniture.