Pete's Expert Summary
My human, whom I permit to cohabitate with me, has presented a new object for my consideration. It is a small, rigid rectangle of plastic, utterly devoid of any redeeming qualities. It does not crinkle, it does not flutter, and it smells faintly of a warehouse, not of catnip or prey. The packaging claims it is a vessel for "Dragon Tales," a concept I find preposterous unless these dragons are chasing laser dots. Apparently, this inert wafer must be inserted into a separate, larger, glowing box to produce sounds. While the potential for new and interesting noises to interrupt my slumber is high, the object itself is a profound failure as a toy. Its only conceivable use is to be skillfully batted under the heaviest piece of furniture in the house, a task for which I have neither the time nor the inclination.
Key Features
- 4 DELIGHTFUL DRAGON TALES: Stories include The Reluctant Dragon, The Island of the Nine Whirlpools, The Fiery Dragon & The Last Dragon. Presented with lively music.
- IN THE BOX: Single audiobook card; Author: Kenneth Grahame; Edith Nesbit; Read by: Bertie Carvel & Emma Gregory; Language: English; Accent: UK; Running Time: 2 h 17 min; Ages 5+
- EASY TO SET UP & USE: Simply pop an audiobook card into the Player or Mini (sold separately) to play & remove to stop. Use the dials to adjust the volume & tracks. Alternatively, control the device via the free App!
- KID-FRIENDLY WITH PARENTAL CONTROL: Enjoy hours of screen-free entertainment with the Player & Mini. All content is safe & has been specially chosen & created with children in mind. No cameras. No mics. No ads.
- CONTENT THAT GROWS WITH KIDS' MINDS: Explore 1000+ Yoto cards of bestselling novels, music, fun activities, free podcasts, radio, soundscapes, useful timers or even create content with a Make Your Own card!
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The offering was, to put it mildly, an affront. A plastic card. The Provider placed it on the floor before me with an expectant look, as if this flimsy chit could possibly compare to the majesty of a peacock feather or the frantic dance of a cornered moth. I gave it a perfunctory sniff, my whiskers twitching in disdain. It had no life, no spirit. I extended a single, perfect claw and gave it a lazy shove. It skittered across the hardwood with a pathetic, whispery sound and came to rest by the leg of the sofa. A failure. I turned my back on it, tail held high, and leaped onto my favorite armchair to begin the important work of grooming my immaculate tuxedo bib. Later that evening, the small human—the one with the sticky fingers and the startlingly loud laugh—retrieved the plastic insult. They approached a glowing cube I had long ago dismissed as an uninteresting lamp. With a reverent little 'click,' the card was inserted. I watched from my perch, one eye cracked open, anticipating some shrill, irritating noise. Instead, a voice filled the room. It was a smooth, deep voice, the kind of voice that rumbles in the chest in a satisfying way, not unlike my own purr. It spoke of a dragon. My ear, a finely tuned instrument of detection, swiveled towards the sound. This was not the usual babble from the large, flashing screen on the wall. This was different. The voice painted a picture of a creature of great size and power, one who was—and this was the fascinating part—reluctant. He preferred poetry and quiet contemplation to the brutish business of fighting. A kindred spirit! I, too, reject the uncivilized demands of the world in favor of aesthetic pleasures and strategic napping. The story unfolded, punctuated by music that swooped and soared, and I found myself mesmerized. I did not move from my chair, of course. That would be admitting interest. But I closed my eyes and let the sounds wash over me. I was no longer in the living room; I was in a sun-dappled cave, listening to the gentle verse of a fellow connoisseur of comfort. The plastic card was, and remains, a useless piece of junk. But the magic it unlocks within that glowing box... that is another matter entirely. It is a portal, a weaver of dreams for the discerning listener. I have decided it may stay, on the condition that its tales are always of such a civilized and relatable nature.
