Usually Kuro, aka Beast-i-Cat, aka Fatty Boomsticks, is my playtime buddy. He loves to play with things.
Lamp cords are not immune, and those I can usually ignore.
But when he gets into the art cabinet and drags out the string that you let your daughter use when she makes her beaded jewelry... and he drops it six inches from your feet and gives you the death stare... it's time to bow to the inevitable, hunt down one of the many shoelaces that migrate through the house, and play with the cat.
Him likes to play.
He *REALLY* gets into it.
Such a dignified creature he is.
Look! Pointy ends!
He'll do this for half an hour or more, but... well, when one cat starts playing, they send out a happy vibe that causes other cats to swarm and wait for their turn.
I'm so beloved.
But only when I'm holding string. Other than that, I'm just the feeder, litterbox changer, and warm lap.
Moody things, cats. Demanding even.
No wonder I love 'em!