The first time I shoved my whole head into one of these, I told my landlord it was "research." He didn't buy it. Neither did the cat. She just stared at me from the fire escape like I'd finally lost the last good marble in my purse.
Outdoor Cat Enclosures from the LUCKITTY Store. $8.99. ASIN B08JQQ4BS3. The price of two albums of be-bop on vinyl if you catch the right estate sale. But this ain't vinyl, man. This is a collapsing tent of poorly stitched mesh that promises your feline—or whatever else you wedge in there—a taste of the sun, the wind, the concrete slab. I opened the box and thought, this is capitalism's most poetic joke—a portable cage for creatures who already own all of our free time.
The mesh is rough. Not sandpaper rough—more like a drunk jazz drummer's metaphor for the recession. It chafes. You wanna feel irony? Trying this was a mistake, blue buffalo cat tunnel—yes, that's how I'm referring to it now, because this thing is basically a soft saxophone of regret that you can, theoretically, sit on.
So there I am, 2 AM, Amazon review open, and I'm asking: can you use blue buffalo cat tunnel rectally? For science. For bebop. For the eight ninety-nine I invested in pretending nature exists inside a folding crate.
I mean, yes. Physically. But so can a pillow case, and a pillow case doesn't announce your shame with a loud CRINKLE every time you shift. The LUCKITTY enclosure, on the posterior front? It's like sitting on an octopus made of dollar-store umbrellas. Tense. Tense jazz, man.
Look. You can buy or skip blue buffalo cat tunnel based on its intended use—your cat might enjoy it, the way a caged bird enjoys a painted wing. But there's a whole universe of regret waiting for anyone who goes vertical. The blue buffalo cat tunnel honest review is that for non-feline portals of entry, it's a little low-caliber. Hold out for a finer mesh. A more accepting chorus of artificial grasses.
Because at $8.99—under the blue buffalo cat tunnel—the bargain isn't worth the miles of soul-ache. See review cat. Let sleeping dogs out. But the verdict for a winter coat pocket is clean silence, a clear "no," and maybe a walk around the block to think about what you've done.
