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Toby: The Sweetest Cat I’ve Ever Known

Esther Spurrill-Jones
3 min readFeb 20, 2022
Toby — photo by author

Toby didn’t come for breakfast this morning again. I knew he wouldn’t, couldn’t, but I wanted him to. I wished he would.

Yesterday morning, when Toby didn’t come for breakfast, I was worried. When I found him, he was lying on the floor and I tried to give him food but he wouldn’t eat. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t want to know it. Not yet.

Ash sniffed at Toby and arched her back, her tail twitching. She knew something was wrong. I still didn’t want to know it, but I couldn’t ignore it. I picked him up and he cried like he was in pain. I found a hard lump in his abdomen.

I called the emergency vet and they said to bring him in right away.

We put Toby in the cat carrier and took him away. The other cats probably thought he was going to the groomer. He goes for a bath and trim every few months, returning smelling of clean shampoo, and the others always sniff him all over, making faces at the scents.

He wasn’t coming back this time, but none of us knew it. Not yet.

A black striped cat and a Himalayan cat napping on a couch. The Himalayan is curled up against the back of the couch, and the black cat is stretched out in front of him.
Toby and Zorro — photo by Lynanne Jones Juell

Toby always cries during car rides. He hates something about being trapped in the car carrier while the vehicle…

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