A photo of Pete the cat

Pete's Toy Box: Talking Puzzle

Melissa & Doug® Ms. Rachel™ Wooden Phonics Alphabet Sound Puzzle with Light-Activated Sound Effects, 24-Piece Toddler Toys for Boys and Girls Ages 2+ Years

By: Melissa & Doug

Pete's Expert Summary

My human seems to have mistaken our home for a preschool. This new object from Melissa & Doug, a brand I associate with the clunky, brightly-colored distractions of the Small Human, is a flat wooden board with letter-shaped holes. Apparently, when you lift a piece, a relentlessly cheerful voice named "Ms. Rachel" recites the alphabet. It's supposedly "light-activated," which means my prime sunbeam real estate is now a potential source of auditory assault. While the disembodied voice is an unwelcome intrusion, the small wooden letters themselves possess a certain appeal. They look smooth, lightweight, and perfectly shaped for batting across the hardwood floors and, inevitably, losing under the heaviest piece of furniture. It's a loud, stationary object for a creature I already outsmart on a daily basis, but the pieces might offer a moment's diversion.

Key Features

  • OFFICIAL MS. RACHEL TOYS: Lift 26 wooden letter-shaped pieces to hear Ms. Rachel speak words and sound out letters of the alphabet (on/off switch for quiet play; 2 AAA batteries required, not included; sounds are light-activated - for best results, use in bright, direct light)
  • COGNITION BUILDING: Littles can hone vocabulary, memory, letter recognition, problem-solving, and other developmental skills while lifting and placing wooden letters in the sturdy wooden puzzle board
  • DEVELOP MOTOR SKILLS: Enhance spatial awareness, hand-eye coordination, visual and auditory perception skills, by matching the pieces to their corresponding places in this sturdy wooden puzzle by Melissa & Doug
  • EXPERT-CREATED LEARNING TOYS: Crafted by Ms. Rachel and early learning specialists, these baby toys and toddler toys support crucial early milestones, aiding development from infancy through toddler years
  • FOR ALL AGES & STAGES: Makes a great gift for babies and toddlers, ages 2 to 6, for hands-on, screen-free play and learning; from baby shower gifts to everyday play, Ms. Rachel kids toys include tummy time mats, rattles, baby teething toys, plushies, interactive dolls, blocks, puzzles, and more

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The Provider presented the wooden plank with an absurd level of enthusiasm, placing it on the floor for the Small Human. A cacophony erupted. Every time a colorful shape was clumsily pried from its spot, a saccharine voice would burst forth: “A is for… APPLE!” or “B is for… BALLOON!” It was an auditory nightmare, a direct violation of the peace treaty I maintain in exchange for regular meals and chin scratches. I observed from my perch atop the bookcase, my tail twitching in profound irritation. The toy was loud, obnoxious, and worst of all, entirely predictable. I dismissed it as another piece of juvenile junk and commenced a nap, dreaming of silent, feathered things. My opinion shifted later that evening. The house was dark, cloaked in the deep, satisfying quiet of night. I was making my rounds when I noticed a faint sliver of light from the hallway slicing across the living room rug, illuminating the puzzle. As I padded silently past, my shadow fell across the board. To my astonishment, a voice whispered from the darkness: “S is for… SUN!” I froze mid-stride, ears swiveling. There was no Small Human, no Provider. It was just me, the shadows, and the board. I took another deliberate step, letting my shadow eclipse a different slot. “M is for… MOON!” it chirped. A slow, devious purr began to build in my chest. I had discovered its secret. It wasn't about the pieces at all; it was about the light. The toy wasn't a puzzle; it was an instrument, and I was its conductor. For the next hour, I danced in the sliver of light, orchestrating a ghostly alphabet recital for an audience of none. A flick of my tail would trigger a "T," a graceful leap would silence it. This was power. This was a new, sophisticated method for reminding the humans of my presence, even when I was unseen. The ability to make a disembodied voice declare “P is for… PETE!” from an empty room at 3 a.m. is a tool of immense value. This Ms. Rachel contraption, I concluded, was not a toy for chasing. It was a toy for haunting. It is, without question, worthy of my genius.

Melissa & Doug Vehicles Sound Puzzle - Wooden Peg Puzzle With Light-Activated Sound Effects (8 pcs) Puzzles for Toddlers, Wooden Puzzles For Kids Ages 2+

By: Melissa & Doug

Pete's Expert Summary

My human has brought home yet another contraption for the tiny, loud human. It appears to be a slab of wood with holes and corresponding wooden lumps painted to look like the noisy machines that rumble past my window. The gimmick, as I understand it, is that it screams with the sounds of the street—trucks, planes, the usual rabble—whenever a block is placed correctly. This is achieved via a "light sensor," a detail that piques my scientific curiosity. While the potential for disrupting my afternoon slumber with a sudden, unprompted siren is high, the possibility of batting a wooden motorcycle across the floor holds a certain, fleeting appeal. Ultimately, it seems like a primitive and noisy affair, likely to end up covered in drool and ignored under the sofa.

Key Features

  • 8-piece wooden peg puzzle that plays vehicle sounds when pieces are placed in correct wells
  • Full-color matching picture under each piece
  • Place a puzzle piece correctly in the puzzle board to hear realistic sounds--lift to expose light sensor, then replace (cover sensor) to hear sound
  • 8.75" x 11.75" x 1" puzzle board; 2 AAA batteries required, not included
  • Makes a great gift for toddlers and preschoolers, ages 2 to 5, for hands-on, screen-free play

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The thing was liberated from its plastic prison with a crinkling sound that briefly got my hopes up, but the subsequent object was a disappointment. A flat board. Lumpy wooden shapes with little red pegs, perfect for snagging an unwary claw but otherwise useless. The small human, my primary rival for lap space, immediately fell upon it, mashing the pieces into the wrong holes with a singular, sticky-fingered focus. A cacophony erupted. A *vroom*, a *choo-choo*, a shrill *wee-woo*. I retreated to the arm of the sofa to observe, my tail giving a single, irritated twitch. It was chaos. But as I watched, my superior intellect began to deconstruct the process. The human had mentioned something about a "light sensor." I noticed that the sound didn't trigger when the small one simply fumbled with a piece *over* the hole. The noise only came when the piece was firmly seated, plunging the small well beneath it into darkness. A shadow. The blocking of light. The principle was insultingly simple, yet the small human hadn't grasped it. He was a creature of brute force; I am a master of subtlety. Later, when the small human was called away for a ritual cleansing of his hands and face, the puzzle lay abandoned on the rug. The silence was blissful, but my curiosity was a burning ember. I leapt down, landing with the silent grace my human so often praises. I ignored the clunky pieces themselves and focused on the empty wells. I selected the ambulance-shaped hole and deliberately, precisely, placed my soft gray paw directly over the small, dark circle at the bottom. *WEE-WOO-WEE-WOO!* The sound blared, sharp and clear. I lifted my paw. Silence. I pressed it down again. *WEE-WOO!* It was glorious. I was a conductor, summoning the sounds of urban panic with a simple, elegant gesture. I trotted over to the train-shaped hole. *CHUGGA-CHUGGA-CHOO-CHOO!* I was a god of transportation. The human returned to find me sitting calmly a few feet away, grooming a foreleg as if nothing had happened. She looked at the puzzle, then at me, a flicker of suspicion in her eyes. I met her gaze with a slow blink that communicated only deep, philosophical boredom. The toy, as a toy, is beneath me. The pieces are poorly weighted for skittering, and the art is garish. But as a remote-control device for generating sudden, startling noises to assert my presence? For that purpose, and that purpose alone, it is a masterpiece of engineering.

Melissa & Doug The Wheels on the Bus Sound Puzzle - School Bus Puzzle, Wooden Puzzle For Kids and Toddlers Ages 2+

By: Melissa & Doug

Pete's Expert Summary

My human seems to have acquired a flat, brightly-colored piece of wood intended for a less sophisticated audience. This "Melissa & Doug" contraption is apparently a "sound puzzle," which I deduce means it's designed to make irritating, repetitive noises to distract the small, clumsy humans they call "toddlers." It depicts a garish yellow bus, and one is meant to pull out the chunky wooden pieces using pegs that are far too large for satisfying batting. The whole point seems to be learning a dreadful song and developing "fine motor skills," which is utterly pointless when you've already perfected the art of the silent, graceful pounce. While the sudden noises might offer a moment of startled amusement, it's likely an utter waste of my valuable energy, which is better conserved for judging things from atop the refrigerator.

Key Features

  • PEG PUZZLES SET: The Melissa & Doug Wheels on the Bus Sound Puzzle is an entertaining and educational developmental toy for kids. It plays verses of the wheels on the bus when each of the 6 pieces are lifted, and includes the lyrics. (AAA batteries not included.)
  • EASY TO GRASP: This wooden puzzle is made for smaller hands to easily grasp. The pieces create a beautiful school bus illustration.
  • PLAY AND LEARN: Shaped wooden pieces with durable plastic pegs are easy for small hands to grasp, making this a perfect preschool puzzle that helps with fine motor skill development, as well as auditory processing.
  • GREAT GIFT FOR AGES 2 TO 4: This puzzle is an educational gift for kids ages 2 to 4 years. Add the Melissa & Doug Alphabet Sound Puzzle to round out the hands-on play experience and to give kids an engaging option for screen-free fun.
  • “THE GOLD STANDARD IN CHILDHOOD PLAY”: For more than 30 years, Melissa & Doug has created beautifully designed imagination- and creativity-sparking products that NBC News called “the gold standard in early childhood play.”

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The thing arrived in a transparent wrapping that crinkled with infuriating promise, only to reveal the dull reality of painted wood. The human placed it on the floor, beaming, as if she had just presented me with a freshly poached salmon. I gave it a cursory sniff. It smelled of sawdust and despair. This was a toy for a lesser being, one of those "neflings" that occasionally toddled through my territory, all sticky fingers and startling shrieks. I saw the clumsy pegs, the crude illustration of a bus filled with vacant-looking animals, and turned my back on it with a disdainful flick of my tail. It was an insult to my intelligence. Later that week, my fears were realized. A nefling was deposited in the living room, and the puzzle was deployed as a containment field. The small creature, with the focus of a confused gnat, managed to pry a piece loose. A tinny, synthesized voice blared, "The people on the bus go up and down!" The sound was a physical assault. My ears flattened against my skull. The nefling, of course, giggled and proceeded to orchestrate a cacophony, pulling out piece after piece. I watched from the safety of the mantelpiece, a sleek gray shadow of judgment, as the wipers went "swish" and the horn went "beep." It was a symphony from the seventh circle of hell. After the nefling was extracted, leaving a trail of crumbs and chaos, the house fell into a blessed silence. The puzzle lay abandoned, a single piece—the driver, a smug-looking bear—missing from its slot. It had been flung under the credenza during the earlier maelstrom. In the quiet of the deep night, a thought wormed its way into my mind. What power did this noisy block of wood hold? I slipped down from my perch, my white paws silent on the hardwood floor. I located the missing bear piece with ease and nudged it out with my nose. It was disappointingly inert. Then, my paw brushed against the main puzzle board. Idle curiosity, a force I rarely admit to, took over. I hooked a single, perfect claw under the peg of the piece showing the wheels. With a gentle lift, the sensor was triggered. "The wheels on the bus go 'round and 'round..." it sang into the stillness. The sound was still atrocious, but in the silent house, I was its sole conductor. I was the master of the noise. A slow, deeply cynical purr rumbled in my chest. The toy was vulgar, primitive, and an affront to good taste. However, the ability to summon a single, jarring line of a children's song at 3 a.m., just as my human has drifted off to sleep? That is a strategic advantage of the highest order. The puzzle, I decided, could stay.

Melissa & Doug Old MacDonald's Farm Sound Puzzle With Light-Activated Sound Effects Farm Animal Toys, Puzzles For Toddlers And Kids Ages 2+

By: Melissa & Doug

Pete's Expert Summary

My human seems to believe my life lacks a certain rustic charm, an assumption made evident by this... thing. It is a flat, wooden plank from the Melissa & Doug establishment, a brand I associate with sturdy, dreadfully earnest toys for small, uncoordinated humans. This particular plank is carved with animal-shaped depressions and comes with corresponding plugs. The gimmick, as far as I can tell, is that when a piece is placed correctly, it rewards the user with a tinny, electronic squawk from that ghastly "Old MacDonald" tune. While the potential for swatting the little pegged pieces across the floor holds some minor appeal, the true intrigue lies in the light-activated sensors. The possibility of orchestrating a symphony of barnyard noise simply by casting my magnificent shadow over the board is a concept I find... promisingly disruptive.

Key Features

  • Wooden peg puzzle that plays Old MacDonald song when pieces are placed
  • Pictures on pieces match pictures on beautifully crafted puzzle board
  • Farmer starts song, animals complete their verses; song lyrics included on puzzle
  • Helps teach hand-eye coordination and problem solving and helps develop auditory processing skills
  • Makes a great gift for toddlers and preschoolers, ages 2 to 5, for hands-on, screen-free play

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The object arrived with little fanfare, presented on the living room rug like a sacrifice to some garish, primary-colored god. My human demonstrated its function with the sort of exaggerated delight reserved for the very young or the very simple. They placed the cow piece into its cow-shaped home, and the device bleated a pathetic "Moo." I yawned, displaying the full, threatening expanse of my fangs, and turned my back on the pathetic display. It was a puzzle. A tool for teaching toddlers that a pig does not, in fact, fit into a chicken-shaped hole. It was beneath me. Hours later, long after the human had retired to stare at their larger, more interesting light-box, a sliver of moonlight caught the puzzle where it lay abandoned. My nightly patrol of the domain led me past it. I paused, not out of interest, but out of a sense of duty to inspect all new additions to my territory. I sniffed the wooden farmer piece; it smelled faintly of varnish and disappointment. I nudged it with my nose. As I did, my head blocked the moonlight streaming into the empty pig-shaped void next to it. Suddenly, an aggressive "OINK!" shattered the quiet. I sprang back, fur on end, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs. It wasn't the piece. It was the darkness. It was my *shadow*. A slow, predatory grin spread across my face. This was no mere puzzle. This was an instrument. A control panel. I was no longer a cat; I was a sorcerer of the sonic arts. I deliberately, gracefully, placed a single, soft gray paw over the sheep-shaped hole. "BAA!" it cried out. I lifted my paw. Silence. I placed it over the horse. "NEIGH!" I began to play it, not as a puzzle to be solved, but as a bizarre organ of chaos. Paw down, paw up. Oink. Baa. Moo. I ignored the farmer entirely, for his song was tedious and I am the star of this, and every, show. My human found me like that the next morning, sitting regally beside the board, methodically pressing the "buttons" with one paw, creating a cacophony that was mine and mine alone. They laughed, assuming I was enjoying a simple toy. They were wrong. I was practicing. I was rehearsing the symphony that would greet them every morning at 4:30 AM. This wooden plank wasn't a gift for me; it was a gift for them, a promise of the glorious, farm-themed torment to come. It would do.

Melissa & Doug Farm Sound Puzzle - Wooden Peg Puzzle With Sound Effects (9 pcs)

By: Melissa & Doug

Pete's Expert Summary

So, my human has presented me with this... *thing*. A "Melissa & Doug Farm Sound Puzzle." The brand is a dead giveaway; it's one of those purveyors of offensively cheerful wooden objects designed for miniature, sticky-fingered humans. This one is a flat board with holes in it, shaped like barnyard animals I've only seen through the window. The premise is appallingly simple: put the wooden animal in its matching hole, and it makes a noise. A deeply undignified, low-fidelity noise, I imagine. While the sheer lack of aerodynamics makes it useless for skittering across the hardwood, the little red pegs on the pieces do present a certain... bat-able quality. The true appeal, if any exists in this slab of primary-colored boredom, might be its potential for audible annoyance, a new tool in my arsenal for summoning the can-opener.

Key Features

  • 8-piece wooden peg puzzle makes realistic farm animal sounds when pieces are placed in puzzle board
  • Pictures of animals under pieces help with matching
  • TIP: Puzzle has light-activated sensors; for best results, expose the sensor by removing a piece in a brightly lit room, then make the sound play by replacing the piece in the board
  • Promotes matching, fine motor skills, and language development
  • Makes a great gift for girls and boys, ages 2 to 5, for hands-on, screen-free play; 2 AAA batteries required, not included

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The insult arrived in a box of its own, a garish thing my human cooed over. It was laid upon the floor with a reverence usually reserved for my dinner bowl. “Look, Pete! A farm!” I gave her a look that could curdle milk and immediately turned my back, proceeding to groom a perfectly clean patch of my pristine white bib. I watched from the corner of my eye as she poked at it, demonstrating. A wooden cow was placed. A tinny, pathetic “Moo” echoed in the room. A sheep. A weak “Baa.” This was not a toy. This was an acoustic assault, a monument to bad taste left in the middle of my living room. I retreated to the top of the bookshelf to pass judgment from a superior altitude. My vigil lasted until the sun, my truest companion, began its slow descent, casting a long, warm rectangle across the floor. This golden path happened to fall directly over the offensive puzzle. On my way to demand my evening meal, I was forced to traverse this territory. As my shadow fell across the board, my paw passed over the empty hole where the pig once sat. Suddenly, a panicked “OINK!” erupted from the wood. I froze mid-stride, tail rigid. I had not touched the thing, yet it had spoken. My initial disgust was replaced by a flicker of scientific curiosity. I retracted my paw, then slowly, deliberately, swept it over the hole again. “OINK!” The pieces of the puzzle, I soon realized, were irrelevant. They were a misdirection for the simple-minded. The true mechanism was the light. Or, more accurately, the absence of it. The sunbeam was the power source, and my body was the conductor. This wasn't a puzzle; it was an instrument waiting for a maestro. That night, under the sterile glow of a floor lamp, I perfected my technique. A quick pass of the tail over the chicken slot produced a staccato “cluck.” A languid stretch that covered the cow, horse, and sheep simultaneously resulted in a cacophony of barnyard chaos that made my human jump in her chair. The wooden pegs were, as suspected, useless except as things to knock under the sofa. It is not a good toy. Let's be clear. It has no bounce, no flutter, no satisfying crunch. It is, however, an exquisite tool. When the water bowl is offensively shallow, a persistent “Moo” from the living room now mysteriously summons my human. When I require the blinds to be opened for my morning bird-watching, a series of sharp, demanding “Quacks” does the trick. She thinks it's malfunctioning. She has no idea she is being classically conditioned. For its utility as a remote control for my staff, I must deem this wooden noisemaker… adequate. It has earned its place on the floor.

Melissa & Doug Around the House Sound Puzzle - Wooden Peg Puzzle with Light-Activated Sound Effects (8 pcs) Chunky Puzzles, Wooden Knob Puzzles For Toddlers Ages 2+

By: Melissa & Doug

Pete's Expert Summary

My human, in a moment of questionable judgment typically reserved for buying kale, has procured a flat plank of wood with various carved lumps meant for a small, clumsy human. Apparently, when one removes these lumps, the board emits noises one typically hears around the house—a ringing telephone, a flushing commode, a whirring vacuum. Given it's a Melissa & Doug creation, it possesses a certain rustic sturdiness, a quality I appreciate in things I intend to push off tables. While the cacophony of domestic sounds might ultimately prove more irritating than engaging, the real intrigue lies in the small, peg-handled pieces. They look perfectly sized for batting under the sofa, a far more stimulating activity than solving a "puzzle" whose solution is literally printed underneath the pieces.

Key Features

  • 8-piece wooden sound peg puzzle with realistic household sounds
  • Sounds play when pieces are lifted, stop when they are replaced
  • Lift a piece to reveal new picture of an activity happening in each room of the house
  • Encourages motor and auditory processing skills, problem solving, and narrative thinking

A Tale from Pete the Cat

It began with a lie. I was performing my mid-morning sun-drenched sprawl on the living room rug, a study in gray and white perfection, when the distinct, shrill ring of a telephone pierced the quiet. I flicked an ear, then opened one eye. My human, deep in her glowing rectangle, didn’t move. A second ring, insistent and clear. I sat up, my tuxedo fur bristling slightly. Was she ignoring a caller? Unacceptable. My food delivery schedule depends on her prompt attention to such things. I trotted over to the hall table where the actual phone sat, silent as a stone. My head tilted. The sound had been real, I was sure of it. My investigation, conducted with the silent paws of a seasoned hunter, led me to a new and unwelcome addition to the floor-scape: a brightly colored wooden board. It was covered in cartoonish depictions of household scenes. My superior intellect immediately identified it as a rudimentary intelligence test for toddlers, but the source of the phantom ring was still a mystery. I sniffed its edge. It smelled faintly of wood and the clean, sterile scent of a product that has never known the indignity of being licked. Tentatively, I extended a single, perfect claw and hooked the little peg handle on the piece depicting a front door. As I lifted it, a cheerful *ding-dong* chimed through the room. My ears flattened. It was a trap. A box of lies. My initial disgust, however, soon curdled into a fascinated curiosity. I, Pete, was in control of this auditory mirage. I was a god of household noises. With a deliberate flick of my paw, I sent the doorbell piece skittering across the hardwood floor. Then I moved to the bathroom piece. A yank, and the sound of a flushing toilet echoed, despite the commode being rooms away and mercifully unused. I looked at my human. She glanced down, smiled patronizingly, and said, "Oh, you found the puzzle, Pete!" She did not understand. She saw a toy; I saw a tool for psychological manipulation. It is now my favorite instrument of chaos. When the dog is sleeping too soundly, I unleash the roar of the vacuum cleaner. When the human is on an important video call, I find that the incessant ringing of the toy telephone is a marvelous way to get her attention. The puzzle itself is an insult to my intelligence, but its components are divine. The little wooden pegs are a delight to bat into unreachable corners, and the board’s ability to conjure sounds from thin air provides me with endless opportunities for mischief. It is not a toy to be played with, but a system to be exploited. And I am its master. A most worthy acquisition.

Melissa & Doug Wooden Alphabet Sound Puzzle - Wooden Puzzle with Sound Effects (26 pcs) - FSC Certified

By: Melissa & Doug

Pete's Expert Summary

So, my human has presented me with this... object. It appears to be a flat, wooden tray designed to hold a variety of colorful, angular blocks. They claim it is a "puzzle" that makes "sounds." Ostensibly, this is for the benefit of a small, uncoordinated human to learn its rudimentary communication system. I find the entire concept patronizing. While the wooden blocks, being slightly raised, might possess a certain satisfying skittering quality when batted across a hardwood floor, the primary function seems to be making noises, which is frankly my job. It is, in all likelihood, a colossal waste of premium napping real estate.

Key Features

  • See and hear the alphabet with this 26-piece wooden Alphabet Sound Puzzle with brightly colored uppercase letters
  • 10" x 13.5" x 0.8" sturdy wooden puzzle board (AAA batteries required, not included)
  • Pictures under pieces for easy matching and enhanced learning opportunities; letters sit slightly above the puzzle board for easy grasping
  • TIP: Puzzle has light-activated sensors; for best results, expose the sensor by removing a piece in a brightly lit room, then make the sound play by replacing the piece in the board
  • Makes a great gift for preschoolers, ages 3 to 5, for hands-on, screen-free play; product made with FSC-certified materials that support responsible forestry; applies to new inventory only (FSC C156584)

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The thing arrived on a Tuesday, an offense in itself, as Tuesdays are reserved for deep meditation in the west-facing sunbeam. My human, with the clumsy enthusiasm of a retriever, freed the "Alphabet Sound Puzzle" from its crinkly prison and installed the requisite power cells. I watched from the arm of the Chesterfield, tail twitching in irritation. The brand, “Melissa & Doug,” sounded like a pair of relentlessly cheerful camp counselors. The human demonstrated, placing the block shaped like an "A" into its corresponding recess. A tinny, disembodied voice chirped, "A!" I yawned, a deliberate, jaw-cracking display of utter boredom. My human, bless their simple, servant-like heart, eventually abandoned the gaudy plank on the rug and left the room. Silence descended once more. Yet, the board sat there, a vibrant insult in the middle of my floor. It beckoned not with a promise of play, but as a puzzle of a different sort: why did this exist? I stalked over, circling it as I would a particularly stupid beetle. The pieces were indeed slightly raised. With a practiced flick of my paw, I sent the "C" sliding into the dark void beneath the sofa. A far more appropriate place for it. It was when I swatted the "S" that the true nature of this device revealed itself. The piece skittered away, and as I peered into the now-empty slot, I noticed a tiny, dark eye—a light sensor. The sunbeam from the window was pouring directly into it. My shadow fell across the opening, and nothing happened. I moved, and the light hit it again. Intrigued, I didn't bother finding the "S." Instead, I took my paw, a pristine white mitten of judgment, and deliberately covered the sensor. Then, I uncovered it. I repeated this several times. Light. Dark. Light. Dark. This wasn't a spelling toy; it was a primitive optical instrument! Forgetting my nap, I became a scientist. I discovered I could control the sound not just by replacing the piece, but by manipulating the light source itself. I would knock a piece out, then use my own magnificent, shadowy form to plunge the sensor into darkness, holding the device hostage in a state of enforced silence. I would then permit a sliver of light to touch the sensor just as I nudged the piece back with my nose, commanding the voice to speak at my whim. The alphabet was irrelevant. I was the master of this domain, a conductor of light and sound. The human returned to find all the pieces scattered like vanquished soldiers and me, Pete, asleep directly on the board, my body artfully blocking every single sensor. It was a crude device, but its secrets had been a moderately diverting challenge for a mind such as mine. It had earned a temporary stay of execution.

Fisher-Price Toddler Shape Sorting Toy Laugh & Learn Farm Animal Puzzle with Music & Sounds for Kids Ages 1+ Years​

By: Fisher-Price

Pete's Expert Summary

Honestly, Human, must you be so literal? You see the brand name "Fisher-Price" and "Toddler" in the title and you think this is for *me*? This is a gaudy plastic tray with holes shaped like crude animal caricatures, designed to assault the ears with grating songs every time one of the chunky pieces is placed correctly. I am a sophisticated creature of refined taste, not a drooling infant who needs to be musically patronized for figuring out that the cow-shaped block goes in the cow-shaped hole. While the individual animal pieces might possess a certain... bat-able quality for skittering across the hardwood and disappearing under the credenza, the electronic cacophony it promises is a threat to the sanctity of my afternoon nap. The presence of a "Puppy's button" is a particular affront. Keep it.

Key Features

  • Electronic toy puzzle with 5 chunky animal shapes to grasp, sort and match
  • When baby sorts an animal shape into its correct slot, they’re rewarded with a unique song introducing the animal's name and the sound it makes
  • Press Puppy’s button for fun phrases and songs
  • Puzzle play helps develop problem-solving skills and strengthens hand-eye coordination
  • For infants and toddlers ages 12-36 months

A Tale from Pete the Cat

The object was an insult, delivered in a cardboard box. The Human placed it on the floor with a triumphant flourish, as if presenting a freshly caught salmon. I, however, saw it for what it was: a bright plastic rectangle of pure condescension. The label "Fisher-Price" confirmed my suspicions. This was not a tribute; it was an intelligence test for the intellectually destitute. Five prisoners—a pig, a cow, a sheep, and other barnyard simpletons—were trapped in their plastic forms, waiting to be slotted into their designated cells. And in the center, a smug-looking puppy stared out, its button-nose a clear provocation. My human, bless their simple heart, demonstrated its function. They picked up the misshapen chicken and dropped it into its corresponding cutout. The device immediately shrieked, "Bawk bawk bawk! That's a chicken!" I flattened my ears. The sound was a crime against acoustics. This was not a toy. It was a re-education camp. The Human expected me to participate, to learn the rudimentary sounds of lesser beasts. I would do no such thing. My mission was not to solve their puerile puzzle, but to liberate the prisoners from their noisy warden. With the focus and precision of a seasoned hunter, I ignored the puzzle entirely. I selected my first target: the pig. It was chunky, smooth, and perfectly weighted. A single, elegant flick of my paw sent it careening across the room, where it ricocheted off a table leg and vanished into the dark realm beneath the bookshelf. One by one, I liberated the others. The cow slid into the heating vent. The sheep wedged itself perfectly between the sofa cushions. The Human sighed, a sound far more pleasant than the toy's electronic squawking. Only the board remained. I approached it, circled it twice, and then sat directly upon the puppy's smirking face, my fluffy tail covering the speaker grill. I claimed it. It was a slightly lumpy, undignified throne, but it was now a silent one. The prisoners were free, scattered to the far corners of the den where they would serve a higher purpose as hidden treasures for me to rediscover at 3 a.m. The toy itself was a failure, but its scattered components? Worthy. I began to purr, the only sound in the room now one of my own making. Victory was quiet. And soft.

Melissa & Doug Numbers Sound Puzzle - Wooden Puzzle With Sound Effects (21 pcs)

By: Melissa & Doug

Pete's Expert Summary

So, the human has procured a flat, brightly colored plank of wood, apparently to teach their loud, clumsy offspring how to count. It smells faintly of trees and despair. The concept seems to be that you remove a wooden shape, and when you put it back, a disembodied voice shouts a number at you. While the garish colors offend my sophisticated palate, the potential for causing random, unexplainable noises from across the room does hold a certain appeal. The pieces themselves seem a decent size for batting under the sofa, a noble and time-honored tradition. Still, it lacks the visceral thrill of a real feather wand and seems destined to be an educational tool for a creature who still thinks pulling my tail is a hilarious pastime. A potential nuisance, but with a slight possibility for calculated annoyance.

Key Features

  • See and hear the numbers 0-20 with this 21-piece wooden Alphabet Sound Puzzle with brightly colored numerals
  • Lift to expose light sensor, then replace (cover sensor) to hear sound
  • Pictures under pieces help teach counting and reinforce the relationship between quantities and numerals
  • TIP: Puzzle has light-activated sensors; for best results, expose the sensor by removing a piece in a brightly lit room, then make the sound play by replacing the piece in the board; 2 AAA batteries required, not included
  • Makes a great gift for preschoolers, ages 3 to 5, for hands-on, screen-free play

A Tale from Pete the Cat

It arrived in a crinkly prison of transparent plastic, which was, for a moment, the most interesting thing about it. My human, however, quickly liberated the wooden slab and presented it to the Small Human, a creature whose primary functions are noise and dropping food. I watched from the arm of the chair, feigning sleep, as they poked and prodded at it. A piece would be lifted, then clumsily slammed back into place, followed by a tinny, cheerful voice shouting a number. "THREE!" it would declare. "EIGHT!" I was unimpressed. It was a noisemaker, and not a particularly subtle one. Later that evening, long after the lesser beings had gone to their sleeping chambers, I descended to investigate. The house was cloaked in the soft glow of a single lamp, the perfect lighting for my work. The wooden plank lay abandoned on the rug. I sniffed it. Sawdust. I nudged a green piece marked '5' with my nose. It slid easily out of its hole. I peered into the dark recess, expecting a hidden treat. Nothing. Disgusted, I flicked the piece back into its slot with a casual paw-pat. "FIVE!" the plank squawked into the silence. I jumped back, tail puffed to twice its normal size, my ears flat against my head. What sorcery was this? Who spoke? I scanned the room for intruders, but there were none. My initial shock subsided, replaced by a cold, calculating curiosity. I am a cat of science, after all. I approached again, more cautiously this time. I used a single, extended claw to hook the edge of the '11' piece and lifted it. Silence. I looked at the hole, then up at the lamp. A theory began to form in my magnificent brain. I placed my paw directly over the empty hole, blocking the light, then put the number back. Nothing. I slid the piece out again, let the light hit the sensor, and then pushed it back in. "ELEVEN!" it chirped. I had deciphered its secret. It wasn't magic; it was a simple machine that responded to my command over light and shadow. This was no mere toy. This was an instrument. A device for commanding attention. I spent the next twenty minutes conducting my orchestra of numbers, sliding pieces in and out with the deliberate rhythm of a maestro. "ONE!"... "SEVENTEEN!"... "FOUR!" A muffled "Pete, for goodness sake!" drifted from the human's bedroom. I paused, listened, and then deliberately slid the '20' piece into its home. "TWENTY!" it announced triumphantly. The plank was worthy. Not as a plaything, but as a tool. A beautiful, wooden, wonderfully irritating tool.