The marks of intelligence are many, and Sandi had all of them. She could communicate, problem solve, study, investigate and quickly learn most anything. She loved to play, up till the day she died. I think the playtime was all she lived for in those sad last days. Before she got sick, it was tough for her to ever get enough sleep when there was so much neat stuff going on. To stay healthy, cats need a LOT of sleep. Not Sandi. If there wasn’t anything going on, she would come bounding in with something in her mouth…a feather-on-a-stick, for instance. This would be with the stick rattling along behind her. She would hand you the feather and stand there: "well, here I am and I’m bored. DO something!" Ignoring her would not do. She would go rip a piece of cardboard to shreds (we always have a box of some sort on the floor in our office here). Or she would jump up on the top of the bookcases where many of Maryann’s woven baskets are on display; knock one off or start on it as if it were some kind of prey. She would get scolded since we are only partially permissive parents, and dash off somewhere else, "chirrurping" as she went: "catch me if you can!"

The favorite game began as a distraction for her intense interest in whatever you were doing. We would wad up a piece of paper and throw it out the door of whatever room we were in at the time. She would dash after it, and usually return a little later. Then she got the idea that if she brought it back, maybe we would throw it again. Of course, we did, and thus she became our "Golden Retriever". Paper wads all over the house, what a mess. Since all our cats are lactose tolerant, we often treat with a splash of milk before bed. She came to know the word "milk", as she did many others. I always announced activities with the same one word or short phrase, repeated over and over. We buy milk in 1-gallon plastic jugs (1/2%, thank you!) and the tops are sealed with a plastic ring that separates from the lid when first opened. One night when I opened a fresh bottle, she was more interested in the ring than the milk. She stretched up and pawed it out of my hand, dropped it to the floor and immediately picked it up to run off with it. She played with it and brought it to me to throw, so I did repeatedly. This kitten was so exhausted from this activity, that she was actually panting, and I had to stop to let her rest. This would also be the case with the feather toy on many occasions.

The nice thing about the rings is that they are small, brightly colored, there are many styles, they are free with purchase, too big to be swallowed, and can be easily picked up from any surface. Sandi found she could step on them with a paw, they would stand up and she could grasp it with her teeth. The harder ones make a skittering sound on hardwood or tile floors. We kept a small stylish wooden box of many "select" styles on the headboard of our bed, and she would get so excited whenever "play-time!" was announced, she would quiver all over. Opening the box slowly just irritated her, and she would lunge into the box with a paw and pull a bunch out all at once. Then she would carefully scan and select "the perfect one for tonight’s games". Otherwise, she would reach into the open box and select one with her teeth and drop it for you. "Let the games begin!" The idea was to try to get one past her. Some times we won, sometimes she did. At any rate, she would return the object to you, for a rematch. More often than not, she would drop it into your hand if it were held out.

A more incredible feat was accomplished in connection with these retrieval games: she learned to say "please". Of course it was spoken in cat-ish, but it was a definite display and sound only made at the prompt of "say please". She learned to do it in only two repetitions. While laying in bed one night, the usual games had commenced, and she was close at my side as I held up a ring, ready to throw. I held back, holding it high out of reach, and said to her "Sandi, say please". She cocked her head at me, as if to say "how do I do that?" So I pursed my lips, closed my eyes and said "please" all in one motion. She immediately responded with exactly the same facial movement, and made a short "peep" sound. Of course, this was reinforced with throwing the ring and she took off like a shot. Maryann was stunned. We both shared that look of disbelief across the pillows, and tried it again and again. Each time Sandi would say "please", but only if prompted. Later on occasion, she would use this expression on her own if it suited her need at the time. Truly amazing.