Baby Toby

Toby playing fetch with the shower scrubbie

                Year old Toby is affectionately nicknamed The Fleasel because as a kitten he resembled a fluffy weasel more than a cat.  He’s still very fluffy--at twice the size of Finnegan, he only has half Finn's weight.  We never consciously decided to get another cat.  Toby just gradually became part of our lives.  A friend of my future son-in-law adopted him only to discover that his landlord didn’t allow pets.  Future son-in-law babysat Toby while his friend lived out his lease, but we took over kitten duties when future SIL started full-time day classes in addition to his full-time night job.  We figured he should get some sleep.

                Toby has the physical characteristics of a Norwegian Forest Cat—medium length hair, oblique eyes, flat forehead to nostril profile, and continuous growth until he one day will reach the proportions of a Shetland pony.  If he is a Norwegian Forest Cat, legend has it that he descended from cats on Viking ships and the mystic wildcats that pulled the chariot of Freyja, the Norse goddess of love and fertility.  Sounds like a regal ancestry. Well, Ha Ha Ha!  Our “Wedgie” acts like the inner realms of his skull are lined with fluff.  In fact this summer he was lying on the garage roof and rolled the wrong direction—right onto the ground.  He wasn’t even sleeping at the time.

                Despite all, gosh he’s cute!  His favorite activity is getting brushed out by my husband.  He lies there completely relaxed getting his matted armpit fur detangled until he rolls onto the floor.  I have to say I’m a bit miffed at Toby for giving all his loyalty to my husband since I’m the one catering to his every kitty whim.

                Outdoors, our sweet little airhead is actually a confident, capable tracker/hunter/explorer.  Despite his ever-growing size, he is lightning quick and in a strong wind, he is majestic to behold.  His blowing fluffy fur, combined with speed and tall grass makes it appear that he is floating over long stretches of ground with every bound. (cue the inspiring Chariots of Fire soundtrack)

                Except for feeding time, he’s really a good-natured kid--independent in action, but always willing to check-in and see what’s happening.  Toby is especially social with the piano kids, who reward him with belly rubs.  I’ve never seen a cat so willing to expose his tummy.

                Toby’s most noticeable feature is his tail, which is as thick as Finny’s body—it’s important to keep an eye on it during mealtime so it doesn't soak up your food.  Toby’s second most noticeable feature is his cry.  It's as squeaky and persistent as a 2-year-old in a toy store (thank you, daughter, for the perfect description).  A cry like that is hard to take seriously.  In fact sometimes his nickname changes to “The Whiny Weasel” if he starts sounding pathetic enough.

                By the time Toby’s owner could break his lease, we were too attached to Toby and vice versa to let him go.  Our babysitting stint turned into a forever family member—you never know how a blessing will return to you when you help someone out.