Meet Toby. He’s the cat that I’ve had the longest. He is 8 years old, but prefers to think of himself as a young pup (or kitten, as it were). I got him when I moved to Rochester for my first nursing job after school. My family was all far away, and I had one friend down there. So, after I had been there for about 6 or so weeks and was kind of settled in, I mentioned to some people at work that I was going to go to the local shelter and find a cat. One of my coworkers ears perked up, and said “You’re looking for a cat? Meet me at the mall tomorrow at 11”. So I did. And came home with teeny tiny Toby. He was about 6-8 weeks old. And he had extra toes on all of his paws. I got him in October, and because I am bad at naming pets, he became Toby. He’s my big handsome cat. He likes to crawl under the blankets and cuddle and oddly enough, when I take a bath, he likes to sit on the edge of the tub and drink the water (gross, I know). So, that’s Toby. Isn’t he cute? Also, I think I am now officially addicted to blogging.
September 5, 2008