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Toby Tells All

Trapped...Again

I got us trapped in the office this week. Daddy came to our rescue, thankfully! It’s not the first time! Here’s what happened…

The doors to the office and bedroom have a tendency to swing partially closed if there’s nothing holding them open, so Meowmy has a bookend to hold them open when needed. The office is always open because that’s where our kitty box is. As a kitten I found the bookends to be irresistible fun toys and I have a habit of playing with them. I know I shouldn’t because it always leads to problems, but I just can’t help myself. Anyway, usually when the bookend isn’t there, us kitties play games with the door. I have my own game where I just play with the door and swing it back and forth. I usually push it closed by accident. But the four of us have a game we can all play together. It’s the “Around the Door” game. The two girls were on the outside in the hallway, and Dusty and I were inside the office. We hide behind the door and peak out and try to swat at the kitties on the other side. It’s a test of our speed, accuracy and agility. But I ALWAYS lose. My balance is off, so is my aim…sometimes I hit the door when I mean to hit the kitty. I accidentally closed the door shut and Meowmy was at work at the time. Me and Dusty got trapped in there. I don’t know how long we were in there for, because I wasn’t paying attention to the time. It seemed like furever. Dusty was mad at me the whole time. He said I should get some glasses so I can see straight. But then I heard the outer door open and it was Daddy! He saw the closed door and the two girls standing by it. He opened the door and let us free! It was just in time, too, because my tummy was grumbling! I can’t stand being without my precious food!

Mr. Mom

That’s right, I’m Mr. Mom. You can laugh all you want, but I LIKE being Mr. Mom. And yes, I tend to be a bit afraid of little baby kitties at first. But once I start to realize they’re not evil Gremlins conspiring to attack me, I actually get along with them quite well. The little ones are actually pretty cute too and very friendly. You’d think I’d easily get used to the idea of new furballs in the house, since I’ve already dealt with the introduction of two other baby kitties…Dusty and Mia. I suppose my CH has just made me really afraid of change. CHANGE IS BAD! Ok, well maybe I’m exaggerating, but it always seems bad at first! Anyway, to get back to my story…I love my family. I have always enjoyed cleaning Meowmy’s chin and hair, giving her sandpaper kisses in the wee hours of the morning. And having siblings, especially baby ones, is equally nice. When Dusty was a little guy I cleaned him and kitten-sat for Meowmy all the time. I helped when Mia came along too. Now I find myself acting the same way with the foster babies, even though they’re not technically family. They like to cuddle up next to me on the chair. I usually groom them and it make them fall asleep. Dusty thinks it’s gross. Meowmy found it very helpful though…and just a little bit gross when I started cleaning off their tushes. She says I must have been a momma cat in another life because I certainly act like I’m one. But I told her she can call me Mr. Mom, thank you very much. It’s 2007 not 1957! I can take care of the little ones and still be a manly man! If you’re laughing at me now, it only means that you’re just jealous!

The Secret's Out!

As I write this, I feel like such a fraud. I’ve been lying about this for so long; I think I actually started to believe it myself. I guess it’s time I finally came clean to everyone else, now that Meowmy finally found out my secret. I am no Houdini, my furiends. Yes, this is the sad truth. I have no special tricks at all. When I first saw Meowmy’s reaction to my collar being off it made me feel good because she was so surprised. She had no idea how I could possibly do it, it made me feel special. With my disability I usually feel awkward and made fun of. I liked that she didn’t know the truth and thought I was cunning enough and coordinated enough to do it myself. What really happens is my brother Dusty takes it off whenever we get into a really rough wrestling match. It’s purely accidental. It’s loose enough to pull off over my head, even without the safety latch. He pulls on it with his paw and there it goes…to the floor. Course by the time it’s fully off the latch is usually opened which makes it look like less of an accident. It used to be fun fooling my pawrents. Now I’m just embarrassed to admit that I didn’t do it myself and took all the credit for Dusty’s crafty work. *Sigh*