Sharing a house with two blue-eyed mischievous cats provides us with a daily giggle. They're always up to something daft, evil or funny. Charley is one for choosing his own toys - which are items that were not designed with that purpose. As an adolescent he nicked a furry koala that is supposed to grip onto your bookshelves or act as a page marker or something. I had it high up on my bookshelf. Then it was on the floor. Then he was chucking it around. Two years later he still chucks it around but there's not much left of it.
At Mum's house he has a thing for clothespegs. When the animals stay with her, when Greg and I go away, she finds clothespegs in the living room and kitchen, or catches him in the act of ferrying them about. Unrepetant, he gives her a "What?" stare. It's not that he and Annabel (and Rosie the dog) are shortchanged on toys. They have dozens between them. Annabel scorns them all and plays with sweet wrappers.
Now Monsieur has decided he wants the clothes brush for his very own. It lives on the top shelf of our walk-in robe, and three times in the last week I've found it on the floor in the morning. On Sunday I found it downstairs hidden under a seat, tucked away next to my footstool (which he also covets and pushes into his favourite hiding place under cover of darkness). Yesterday I heard a thumping in the robe and there he was, picking up the handle in his mouth and pushing it towards the edge of the shelf before dropping it. He's doing it again now. We could find a different hiding place for it but then I suspect we'd BOTH forget where it was....until Charley found it again for us.