Ruminations on Cat Food Puzzles
5 Tips for Introducing Safe & Engaging Puzzle Time
You know that saying "like mother, like daughter"? It'll get to ya. As a child (ok, fine, even now) I was never one for puzzles. I have yet to meet a jigsaw puzzle, Rubik's cube, crossword, or Ikea assembly that would reveal its truth to me. Yet somehow, when my babygirl Junipurr was a mere three months old, I presented her with a level 800 food puzzle and was like "Here! Go forth and conquer."
That went well:
After Favorite Parent assembled the puzzle, we popped in one kibble and exuberantly presented it to Junipurr. She showed a respectful amount of engagement: "Ooh! A cardboard box! With a treat inside?"
But her mode of engagement was ... not what either the puzzle designer or her parents had envisioned. She pressed her ears to the box and listened with all her might. Now, though it is true that cats have incredible hearing and can discern “the widest range, in fact, of any mammals except bats” (McNamee 2017), even Matilda could not summon chocolates through hearing alone. When Juni walked away after a few minutes, our fragile cat parent hearts sank like the Titantic.
It took a full fourteen months before we healed enough to try again. This time, I thought the puzzle ball would be the golden ticket. It’s a ball, she likes balls. Plus it has what looked to me like a gumball machine contraption inside, and I like gumball machines. Like mother, like daughter, right? She has not once gone within an arm’s length of it. In a KonMari session last winter, we bid adieu to this non-joy-sparking thing.
If it had not been for the coronavirus pandemic mandate to work from home, I might not have tried again. You see, spending 24/7 for months on end with my little hunter has made me all too aware of the manifestations of her boredom. It was a Humane Society webinar on enrichments for cats that gave me the will to give food puzzles another attempt. When the speaker - none other than famed certified applied animal behaviorist Mikel Delgado, co-author with Jackson Galaxy of Total Cat Mojo - made me woke to the Importance of mental stimuli for cats and the Feasibility of rendering food puzzles a beloved activity that could get your cat out of your hair for 2.3 seconds, I felt like Popeye after a can of spinach. Naturally, I went on a food puzzle haul.
(Sidenote: Furbaby parents, let's please stop calling our pets "dumb" or referring to them as "the smart/dumb one." I know that the prevailing hypothesis is that pets don't secretly log onto Amazon when we sleep at night to read what we write about them ... but words have energy. As a human child who was called "stupid" publicly in math class and during parent-teacher conferences, I have low-key anxiety even now when I unexpectedly encounter math.)
Here's what I learned:
Read product reviews carefully, and if short on time, filter for low reviews first to understand potential failure modes. Most food puzzles are not made with the highest quality of materials or with the intention of becoming a family heirloom. That is, sadly, a fact of the pet industry right now. Thus, us cat parents have to snoop the interweb trails for potential dangers resulting from poor quality materials or unsound construction. Of course, not all failure modes are safety hazards (“cat did not like/acknowledge this toy” is perhaps the most prevalent failure mode of all), but if multiple parents comment that a toy’s parts are easily breakable, unsteady, or in any way a potential choking hazard, make note. Do not be fooled by flashy summary stats (side-eyeing you, product with 9 trillion five star reviews). One of the most highly rated food puzzles on Amazon.com, for example, has buried within its reviews a note about paint smearing off and penny-sized parts coming off. Say what? Hard pass.
Food puzzles come in different grades of difficulty, but it may not make sense to start from level 1. Observe your furbaby's daily expressions of curiosity, problem solving prowess, and tolerance for delayed gratification (lol). Especially if you don't have the funds or space for 15 cat puzzles, start with a medium level difficulty puzzle. If it's too easy, fine. You can DIY some components to make it harder or donate it to a fellow furbaby parent. And if medium is too hard, no problem! Save it in the treasure chest and bring it out again when your cat has worked up to this level.
Related to tip two, opt for puzzles that have multiple components and built-in difficulty scaling. The logic here is self-explanatory: more ROI (bang for your buck) and higher likelihood of success with continual engagement. Yet, despite this evident UX win, a surprising number of toys are one-hit-wonders or have multiple components that function the exact same way. I personally like starting with this one. Junipurr figured out the maze part within a week (my smart cookie :) but is still perplexed in a delicious way by the turning tube. As a cat mom, I can’t wait for her to realize the next level of self-empowerment. But also, as a cat mom, I’m relishing the (slow) process of her discovery because it gives me a few minutes of quiet every day :)
Your energy and engagement, especially initially, will likely impact your furbaby's attitude to the puzzle. I realize that most of us seek out food puzzles because we want to encourage self-sufficiency and because we need to BE LEFT ALONE for five blessed seconds to shower/work/breathe. But, enrichment puzzles are an investment that needs some early stage cultivating. When you first introduce the puzzle, sit on the floor closeby. Add more treats than you usually would for a treat or feeding session to facilitate a track record of success (we all gravitate to what we are good at, don’t we?). Coo encouragements at every sign of curiosity or progress, no matter how small. The point: demonstrate and thus create a positive emotional association with the toy. Then, as furbaby gets more into it, slowly, silently back away and run into that tiny 1ft x 1 ft nook in your home where you can laugh/cry/fist bump in privacy, without the gaze of judgy feline eyes. However, continue keeping an eye out when your furbaby plays with her food puzzle and be very conservative about leaving toys out when you are not at home. See above re safety hazards.
Feed the fire of curiosity. As I mentioned in the post on mitigating pet boredom while you work, it’s our job to keep the passion alive. Two best practices for doing this with food puzzles are to rotate and to layer. Rotate - Ideally, have at least 2-3 food puzzles that can be swapped out every week. (Remember, you can also DIY food puzzles with materials you have around the house, like toilet paper rolls! I am not blessed with the artsy-craftsy genes, and my DIYs tend to look like the stuff of comedy and Pinterest fails. Hence, I resort to the #peasant path of purchasing food puzzles.) Whether handmade or store-bought, keep the food puzzle hidden during its “off” weeks, so that when it makes a reappearance, your beloved furbaby can be delighted anew. Layer - Layering is fun, even for us cat parents! Essentially, you are getting Dr. Seuss circa Green Eggs and Ham with it. The ripple rug is particularly easy to layer food puzzles with (drape a corner of the top rug over the puzzle = instant challenge level up), but whatever cat gear you have, find creative ways to ask your cat through action “Would you like them in a house? Would you like them with a mouse?” (Seuss 1960)
Voilà, friends - three years of my ruminations on cat food puzzles. Do you and your furbaby play with food puzzles? Have you ever made a puzzle at home? If you have any tips and tricks, do share in the comments below!
REFERENCES
McNamee, Thomas. The Inner Life of Cats: The Science and Secrets of Our Mysterious Feline Companions. New York: Hachette Books, 2017.
Delgado, Mikel. Cats: Enrichment and Training for Happy, Healthy Relationships. Pasadena Humane Society, 5 Aug 2020. Webinar.
Delgado, Mikel. “Do food puzzles increase feline frolicking?” What Your Cat Wants.com, http://whatyourcatwants.com/foodpuzzlesactivity. 20 February 2018.
Seuss, Dr. Green Eggs and Ham. New York: Beginner Books, 1960.
