Pete's Expert Summary
My human, in their infinite and often misguided attempts to clutter my domain, has procured what appears to be a collection of large, flat, brightly colored cardboard squares. They call it a "puzzle," an activity apparently meant to enhance the "dexterity" of small, clumsy humans. From my perspective, its primary purpose is obvious: to occupy a significant and previously unadorned patch of my favorite sunning rug. The 36 pieces are offensively vibrant, depicting smiling humanoids in a manner that offends my refined, monochromatic sensibilities. However, the promise of a "tight fit" means that once assembled by my staff, it could provide a novel, slightly elevated napping platform. Whether the tactical advantage of this new terrain outweighs the sheer visual vulgarity remains to be seen.
Key Features
- Big fun assorted 36 Pieces
- Build and Play
- Colorful puzzle pieces
- Puzzle building enhances dexterity in young children
- SURE-LOXTM Official Fit: proprietary die-cut method allowing the puzzle pieces to fit together tightly
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The thing had been assembled for hours, a garish stain upon the respectable beige of the living room rug. A visiting miniature human—all shrieks and sticky fingers—had been its architect before being mercifully extracted from my home. I had observed the process from my perch atop the sofa, my tail twitching in silent, judgmental rhythm. Now, in the quiet aftermath, it lay there, an affront to good taste. I refused to grant it the dignity of my presence. I would nap on the cool hardwood, thank you very much. But then the sunbeam shifted. It moved from the arm of the chair, slid across the floor, and landed squarely upon the puzzle's surface. The colors, which I had found so repulsive, seemed to deepen and warm under the golden light. The hardwood was, I had to admit, a bit drafty. With a sigh that conveyed the immense burden of my existence, I descended from the sofa and padded over. I tested a corner with one paw. The proprietary "SURE-LOXTM" fit was no lie; the surface was firm, a solid sheet, not a wobbly collection of loose parts. It would do. I circled once, twice, and settled onto the face of the yellow-shirted figure, its painted-on smile now obscured by my superior, softly furred form. I must have drifted off, lulled by the warmth radiating from the cardboard. My dream was a bizarre one. I was not in my living room, but a world constructed of the same jarring colors, a land of unnatural cheerfulness. Giant, wiggling figures loomed, their movements clumsy, their songs nonsensical. A massive red car with no engine rolled silently past. This was their world, the world from the puzzle, and I was an invader of soft grey fur and stark white markings in this cacophony of primary tones. They did not seem to fear me, which was their first mistake. A tall one in a purple shirt began to sing about something called a "hot potato." I’d had hot potato. It was flaky and delicious and the human always said "No, Pete, that's mine." This giant's song was an insult to the very concept. Unimpressed, I rose to my full height within the dream, my shadow falling over them. I let out a single, sharp "Mrow!" that echoed like a thunderclap, silencing the inane music. The giants froze, their smiles faltering. They had built a world on my rug, and in my sleep, I had conquered it. I woke with a jolt, the sun now in my eyes. The puzzle was just a puzzle again, but I regarded it with new respect. It wasn't just a toy; it was a territory, a warm napping spot, and a portal to a dimension in desperate need of a cynical, well-dressed ruler. It is worthy.