He isn't really my cat anymore though. I only had the privelidge of Toby being in my life for a short 2 years when he was a baby. My Mum is Toby's real Mum (or Meowmie as we call her). She has had him since 2001 when his amazing life took another turn, one that would see him touch many people with his big heart, soul and paws.
I came out of a horrible relationship on New Years Day 1999 after 2 years of living with someone who I loved, but did not love me. I was alone, broke and depressed in Melbourne. As you do, I got a tattoo. But that wasn't enough. I can't remember the details but somewhere in early January, on a whim, I went to The Lort Smith Animal Hospital on a mission to get a new companion.
After looking at heaps of kittens, I went to a cage with this tinsy wincey ball of white fur curled up in the corner. Toby was fast asleep and as I reached in to wake him up for a cuddle my heart melted. At first I though, "Oh no, I can't take him because he is so cute everyone will want him. I should rescue an older cat." But after a few seconds of holding this little fluffball in the palm of my hand, I couldn't let go.
Toby came home with me that day on the tram - the first of many tram trips as I didn't have a car.
Toby was a ratbag to live with. In the middle of the night if I had to get up he would hide in the dark then launch himself onto my ankles all claws and teeth. He would run up and down the stairs of my apartment block, swiping me playfully from one flight up through the bars. When I would go out Mr Tobes wouldn't come inside, he would follow me down the street, running through everyone's front yard. The times when I did lock him in, he sat mournfully at the window of my apartment watching me disapear down the road. He would still be there when I got back.
Mum and I would drive between Sydney and Melbourne for visits all the time. Toby loved curling up under the passenger seat and sleeping with the warm of the motor. He would appear at random loo stops and liked to share Hungry Jacks at the border. He even flew a few times too. I'd never leave him when I went home to Sydney for a visit. He always came with me. Everywhre! When he needed to go to the vet I would jump on a tram at Flemington with him in the cage and go down to Lort Smith for his jabs etc. I was such a poor student that I rarely bought myself tram tickets let alone my cat, but one day the inspector politely advised that Toby would need a 'child or concession' ticket to travel on the tram! He was a great traveller.
Eating my 21st croquenbouche
In 2000 my Mum moved to Germany for 3 months and in September I agreed to go and meet her there. I also got my working visa for the UK and painfully had to say goodbye to Toby. I only intended going to London for a few months so my ex moved back in to housesit. If only it were that simple.
It was a week into my trip and I was in Paris when I finally got through to my ex who hadn't been answering his phone. After a complex situation involving money, he told me he was moving out and that Toby was back at Lort Smith. I had a week to get him out. WHAT THE FUCK?!?!? I AM IN PARIS!!!!! Jump off the phone, call Lort Smith. "Sorry Ms Reason, Toby has already been here a week. You have 2 days to get him out or he will be re-homed." Mad phonecalls placed to all my friends. Thank god one of them who drove picked him up and kept him for a few days until Mum arrived home to Sydney. She then put him on the plane, and Grandma became Meowmie. My Toby was no longer mine.
He loved living with Mum, Kitty and Mitzi (her two cats). Poor Mitzi couldn't stand him (or Kitty, who happened to be her daughter. Maybe because Kitty demanded to be breastfeed until she was 1?) Mum found a new home for Mitz which was for the best. She lived out her days happy without a crazy big white boy chasing her.
Toby was the ringleader of the townhouse complex Mum lived in. There must have been up to 6 or 8 other cats there at any one time. He loved them all and anyone who came to visit. And he KNEW he was gorgeous!! Everyone knows Toby. He parades with his tail held high - his brush as we call it. He rolls around flaunting his big soft tummy begging you to scratch it. He can't walk on fences or branches. He has very little coordination. But that doesn't stop him gingerly climbing out on a limb staring at you - then walking straight into the tree trunk head first!!
He sits next to Mum each morning with his paw on her leg. He sleeps in bed with her all snuggled up. He is her best friend, her life companion.
It took many years for Tobes to forgive me for leaving. Only last year did he finally let me cuddle him and stopped hissing at me. The guilt I felt will never leave me. I was his Mummy and he went through hell.
But Toby is a survivor. I hope.
Today he had surgery. He became ill last week and an ultrasound yesterday confirmed cysts on his kidney and pancreas. He also has a heart murmer.
A cat can leave a place in your heart, but I want him to leave a greater legacy. That is why I am blogging him. He will live here forever. In my heart, under the warmth of the carseat, under Mum's doona cover. His big brushy tail high in the air for us all to see.
PS in case you were wondering, I also have 2 equally mad and totally divine pussycats who are my current fur-babies. Maybe they will get a blog next if they behave ;)
J xx
