Pete's Expert Summary
My human, in their infinite and baffling wisdom, has procured what appears to be an aquatic abomination. They call it "Hydro Lacrosse." The very name sends a shiver down my impeccably groomed spine. It consists of two large, plastic cerulean scoops with netting, clearly designed for some barbaric water-flinging ritual in the giant outdoor toilet they call a "pool." For a creature of my refined, dry-loving sensibilities, the entire concept is preposterous. The long handles are useless, the netting a potential snag for a stray claw, and the whole affair is drenched in the promise of dampness and indignity. The only component of remote interest is the small, throwable ball, but its association with this waterlogged monstrosity makes it guilty by proximity. This is, without a doubt, a complete waste of my valuable napping time.
Key Features
- WATER LACROSSE SET: The Swimways Hydro Lacrosse game set is great for playing lacrosse at the pool, beach or in your backyard; Perfect for encouraging younger players who aren't quite ready for a full size Lacrosse stick
- GREAT FOR KIDS: The soft foam handles of this fun water toy game set make it easy for all skill levels to catch, scoop, cradle and throw the ball Also great for yard games Recommended for ages 5 and up
- GAME ON: Hit the backyard, pool, or beach with Swimways Hydro waterproof football, lacrosse, catch, volleyball, and more; Our Hydro line is 100 percent waterproof for uninterrupted play in all conditions
- FUN FOR THE WHOLE FAMILY: Our pool games, backyard games, lawn games, floating toys, paddleball sets, and more are perfect activity for parties, playdates, and family time; Great for kids to adults and all ages in between
- HYDRO: From our Hydro line pool sports equipment to our Sportz line of dodgeball, volleyball, flying discs and more, we make toys to maximize good times in the pool, park, playground, or backyard
- Includes: Two lacrosse sticks and one ball per pack
- Covered by the Spin Master Care Commitment. See below for full details
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The artifacts were brought into my domain still slick with pool water, smelling of chlorine and misplaced enthusiasm. My human propped the two blue contraptions against the sliding glass door, leaving them to drip onto the tile. My gaze, however, was fixed on the prize. Nestled inside the netting of one of the scoops, like a rare pearl in a cheap plastic clam, was the ball. It was a perfect sphere, an object of immense potential, yet it was held captive by this ridiculous cage. The humans had spent an hour flinging it back and forth in the water, their joyous shouts a grating symphony of pointlessness. To them, it was a game. To me, it was a display of casual cruelty, imprisoning such a fine orb. That evening, I formulated my plan. This was not a matter of play; it was a rescue mission. I observed the target from my perch on the arm of the sofa. The sticks stood silent, the house was dark, the humans were lost in the flickering blue light of their giant screen. The ball was a faint, pale globe in the moonlight, calling to me. I knew I couldn't simply hook it with a claw; the netting was too fine, too clever. The contraption itself had to be defeated. I descended from the sofa, a shadow in a tuxedo, my paws making no sound on the floor. I approached the lacrosse sticks, my whiskers twitching as I assessed the physics of the situation. The stick holding the ball was leaned at a precarious angle. A simple nudge would be insufficient. This required a calculated application of force. I stood on my hind legs, placing a soft, gray paw on the foam handle. I didn't push. I *pulled*, a sharp, deliberate tug backwards. The result was spectacular. The stick lost its tenuous grip on the wall and clattered to the floor with a hollow *thwack*. The impact was just enough to jolt the ball from its netted prison. It popped out and rolled, a sweet, silent arc across the tile, coming to rest near the leg of the dining table. A faint "What was that?" echoed from the living room, but I was already in motion. I pounced, securing my prize with a gentle tap, and expertly batted it into the dark, hallowed space beneath the buffet cabinet. It was safe now. The instruments of its torture lay discarded on the floor, but their purpose, as a flawed puzzle box, had provided a moment's worthy challenge. The ball was mine. The toy, therefore, was a success—but only because I, Pete, had given it a true purpose.
