Our house is not the same this morning as we received news from our vet that our second oldest cat, Toby, died of liver failure. Quite honestly we've taken the news hard and many have been the sobs heard here and on the phone lines with our daughters. We're not even looking forward to sharing this with Caty as Toby was her cat, given to her by her oldest sister for Christmas some years ago. Toby was the most loving of the cats with his own in-yer-face-love-me-cuz-I'm not moving from here. And that meant jumping on whoever happened to be sitting on HIS sofa or rocker recliner. If that happened to be me, he would just jump on me and lay on top of me and would soon be heard snoring with that soft snore of his.
Toby claimed the king-sized bed in our bedroom as his, having slept with us just two nights ago, getting between Nellie and myself or moving to my side closest to the phone as if he were expecting a call.
He was called to love us and to protect the other cats. If Lucy, our outdoor dog came in for her nightly walk, Toby would rush between Lucy and the other cats and growl and hiss and make a menacing move towards Lucy as if to say, "You have to go through me to get to Buttercup or Jack!"
His last night with us he knew he was being called home. He had gone outside and layed down next to Lucy in the warmth of the sun and didn't want to come it. It was Caty who carried him in and he came to sleep in our bathroom. When I got up for church Sunday morning he was sleeping on our rug outside our shower door. After I showered and was dressed I found him inside our shower, which was quite a feat for his being sick and all, for we have a deep shower. When we came home after church he was still there and that's when I called Dr. House.
We thank the Lord for Toby. He was a loving, gentle, even obedient cat. He would come whenever he was called. And when his body gave out, God called him home.
We love you and miss you, dear Toby.
