Pete's Expert Summary
My human has presented me with an oblong, suspiciously blue object they call a 'Hydro Football.' The brand, SwimWays, seems obsessed with making things wet, a concept I find fundamentally flawed. Apparently, this thing is designed to be thrown by loud, small humans in that giant, terrifying bathtub in the backyard they call a 'pool.' Its primary features are being waterproof and having 'incredible grip,' which might make it a marginally satisfying surface to test my claws on, should it ever be left unattended and, more importantly, dry. Otherwise, it seems destined for a life of chaotic splashing and shrieking—a complete and utter waste of perfectly good air, and a disruption to my far more important schedule.
Key Features
- Water Football: Perfect for the park, beach, playground, or backyard, this durable waterproof football lets you keep the game going in almost any condition; Recommended for ages 5 and up
- Great For Kids: Double tuck laces provide incredible grip in or out of the water and the heavy duty stitching and long-lasting air retention bladder provide consistent performance
- 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 game, 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: 1 Swimways Hydro Football
- Covered by the Spin Master Care Commitment. See below for full details
A Tale from Pete the Cat
It arrived without ceremony, a foreign dignitary left unannounced on the living room rug. A silent, blue emissary from the Outside. As lord of this domain, it was my duty to assess this intruder. I descended from my armchair throne and began a slow, deliberate patrol around its perimeter. Its shape was an affront to Euclidean geometry—not a proper sphere, but a strange, elongated ovoid. Its skin was a startling, unnatural blue, and it smelled faintly of the factory that birthed it and the faint, unsettling promise of chlorine. My initial investigation involved a series of probing sniffs along its strange, white-stitched spine. The humans called these "laces," but I saw them as crude bindings, holding the creature's form together. I extended a single, pristine white paw and administered the First Ceremonial Pat. The response was a dull, hollow thud. There was no give, no satisfying squish, no rustle of hidden catnip. It was inert, soulless, and utterly unresponsive to my authority. This was not a tribute to be enjoyed, but a test of my patience. My final judgment was about to be rendered when the human snatched the object away, cooing something about "the beach." I watched from the window as they took it to the edge of the world, where the grass ends and the great, roaring water begins. They threw it into the waves, and it bobbed, undaunted. I saw then its true nature. It was not an emissary to my court, but a vessel for the vulgar. A simpleton, content to be tossed about in the churning chaos of water and sand. I turned away, tail held high in contempt. It was a toy for a lesser mind, a bauble for the easily amused. My velvet cushion was infinitely more complex and rewarding.
