Pete's Expert Summary
My human seems to believe this flat, heavy box contains "entertainment." From my superior vantage point on the sofa arm, I assess the situation. It is a "White Mountain Puzzle," a curious device designed to occupy the clumsy paws and simple minds of my staff for hours on end. This one features a thousand tiny squares of compressed wood pulp, each with a sliver of some ancient human film poster on it. While the notion of them staring at cardboard instead of filling my food bowl is mildly irritating, I must concede the potential. A thousand small, light, skittering objects to be hunted and hidden under furniture is a promising start. Furthermore, once they have painstakingly assembled this 24-by-30-inch masterpiece, it will, by feline law, become my new, slightly lumpy, and artistically stimulating napping mat. A tedious process for them, but the end result has possibilities.
Key Features
- Vintage films: reminisce on classic films with this puzzle! Featuring a collage of movie posters from the past, This puzzle includes popular titles like titanic, white Christmas, and Roman holiday.
- High quality design: This fun 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle contains thick interlocking pieces made from recycled premium blue chipboard that give a sturdy feel and easy grip. Made in the United States. Finished size is 24” x 30”
- Spare time: This puzzle comes with thicker and larger pieces, so it’s easier to grip and put together. It’s a favorite leisure activity for winter holidays or for any other relaxing time. For kids, puzzles are a unique alternative to toys
- Children & adults: Puzzles are great for the family, including the youth and old. This is one of the best and most effective ways for any child, boy or girl, to relax each year. This puzzle also comes with a stand that’ll hold up the box lid for reference
- Art & pictures: White Mountain presents beautiful puzzles created with photography and artwork. The paintings and photos include detailed images of natural landscapes, people, objects, and other classic designs
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The operation began under the sterile, unforgiving light of the living room lamp. The human, my primary caretaker, laid out the contents of the box like a general preparing for a futile battle. A thousand irregular soldiers, a chaotic mess of color and edge, spilled across the coffee table. They even propped the box lid on a tiny stand, a pathetic monument to their misplaced optimism. I observed this ritual from my reconnaissance post atop the bookshelf, tail twitching in mild amusement. They called it a "puzzle." I called it what it was: a buffet of chaos. I descended with the silent grace befitting my station, my white paws making no sound on the hardwood floor. A cursory inspection of the battlefield was in order. The pieces, as advertised by the box, were thick. They had a certain heft, a satisfying density. I selected a vibrant red piece—part of the *Titanic* lettering, I believe—and nudged it with my nose. It slid beautifully. With a single, expertly placed paw-pat, I sent it skittering across the floor, where it disappeared into the dark abyss under the entertainment center. A kill. Simple, clean, effective. The human sighed, none the wiser as to my tactical genius. Over the next few hours, they toiled. Their slow, methodical work was painful to watch. They’d find two pieces that fit, murmur in satisfaction, and place them with all the delicacy of a falling anvil. They were building something, a flat and useless mosaic of forgotten faces and sinking ships. I decided a quality control inspection was necessary. Waiting for the precise moment when my human stood up to stretch her back, I made my move. A single, elegant leap from the floor to the table. I landed directly in the center of their fragile little world. The "sturdy, interlocking" nature of the pieces was put to the ultimate test. For a glorious second, the structure held under my perfectly distributed nine pounds. Then, with the satisfying ripple of a collapsing bridge, a section of *Roman Holiday* disintegrated, sending Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck scattering in opposite directions. The human made a sound of deep despair, which I take as the highest compliment. The puzzle itself is a dreadfully boring activity for a creature of my intellect, but its components are of the highest quality. They are perfect for batting, hiding, and demonstrating the fundamental principles of entropy. It is, in short, a magnificent failure, and therefore, an outstanding toy.
