Every month we ship a cardboard house. Every month it does not survive. That part's on purpose.
A house shows up. Your cat moves in, gets territorial about it, then takes it apart over a few weeks. Right around when it's confetti, the next one lands.
That's the program. We're not going to dress it up.
The part we're actually serious about: your cat is going to scratch something this month. The only open question is whether it's a thing we sent on purpose — or your couch.
The honest workhorse. Raw kraft, cut clean, stamped by Tripp — plus the month's prescribed blend.
"It's brown. It's cardboard. Your cat has never once cared what color it is, and honestly, neither should you. It works." — Tripp
The same house — painted, lit, and already inhabited. Scratch Club sends the habitat. Top Shelf sends the habitat with residents.
"Reads like furniture until your cat stands up and explains otherwise." — Tripp
All patient cards expire after twelve months. All renewals are approved. The system works.
How long a house lasts is up to your cat. Heavy scratchers turn one to pulp in a few weeks. Gentle nappers get months.
Either way, the wear isn't the house failing. It's the house doing exactly what it's for.
Not ready to commit to a cat that destroys things on a schedule?
Grab just this month's →We don't publish the year ahead. You'll know when it's done — that's the whole fun of a drop.
These already came and went. They're not coming back — that's how a drop works. You can look. That's about it.
