That Darn Cat

I haven't written much about my pets on here. After all, who has time when there is so much Caitlin blogging to be done?

But they have been on my mind a lot lately. Namely, one orange and white cat.

The infuriating one who stalks you when you eat cereal because he wants milk (thanks, Jason).

The one who rubs up against our guests, purring with pleasure, and then bats at them all in the same minute (yes, he may have nearly loped off my Dad's ear. That is neither here nor there).

He is strong willed, a people "person", and amazingly clever (he can open doors, drawers, and is impossibly bored with the generic cat toys... SO beneath him, wouldn't you know?)

He is locked up in a bedroom by himself now. Going on day 2. Probably going absolutely insane because he misses his humans. He went to the vet Saturday morning with bladder issues. I hope it's not serious. Because as much as we curse at him and swear that he keeps a tally of how much he has annoyed us every day (trying to beat his score, I'm sure) he is our first pet. He is ours and I miss pushing him off the couch because he is trying to sit on my computer. I miss Charlie and him going at it again. Caitlin fiercely adores him.

Here is the picture where I fell in love with him.

It was meant to be. We had the name Toby all picked out, and when I talked to the lady on the phone she called him Toby, too.

We should have known we were in for it, when we got to the house and Toby was yowling to be let out and jumped into my arms (and over my head) as soon as I entered the room. He was bottle fed as a baby, so he just loves, I mean, LOVES people.

We also should have gotten a clue when the lady mentioned that another family adopted him and then RETURNED him. He is a handful all right. He tore around our apartment with boundless amounts of energy and attacked us whenever we got home to play and cuddle...and then play some more at 3 am.

Hence, why we ended up with Scout. They were supposed to play with each other and leave us alone with peace and quiet, but Toby just kept on loving his people. But look at these pictures and tell me how can we resist this face?

His rambunctious nature has settled down a bit. Scout and he still go tearing around the house and Charlie and he get into it at least a couple times a day. He's turning into that old man that just likes to get everyone all riled up.

We always figured Toby would be the one to outlast all the other pets. He is just that annoying and determined, you know. He's never showed signs of slowing down, just getting a little more particular and cranky with strangers.

Now he is leaking, is terribly embarrassed that he can't make it to the litter box, and just doesn't understand why he has been banished to tiled solitary confinement.

Hopefully, we get answers this week. Because we expect many more years of Toby driving us crazy.

Cats, after all, can live to be quite old. At least, a lot longer than what Jason expected when he turned to me after picking up Toby and asked, "so how long do cats live? 3 or 4 years?"