Tag Archives: Toby

The Daily Snorgle

cats, etc., family, humor, pets, , , ,

Sounds like the title of a newspaper in a small town or a cozy mystery, doesn’t it? But it’s not. It’s not even worthy of being reported in a small town newspaper. (I could see such a newspaper in a comic novel, though. After all, I’m using it in an amusing blog post. But I digress.)

What it is, is a daily interaction between Dan and one of our cats. Right now, the snorgler is Toby. And that makes Dan the snorgle-ee.

Dan has had peculiar interactions with some of our other cats. There was one (aka “Sir Boinks-a-Lot”) who tried to have carnal knowledge of Dan’s elbow. There was another (aka “The Gallic Strumpet”) who would writhe sensuously whenever he cooed her name.

But it’s different with Toby (pictured here, with Dan, basking in the glow of Toby’s love). Toby loves to put his arms (okay, front legs) around Dan’s neck and knead. I maintain this is a sign of deep affection. Dan claims that Toby is trying to strangle him or pierce his ear. (It is true that sometimes Toby’s claws do get entangled in the hair at the nape of Dan’s neck, and he needs to be rescued. (Toby needs rescue. Dan is basking in Toby’s love, as you can see.) But I digress again.)

That’s not a snorgle, however. A snorgle is when Toby gets right up in Dan’s face and rubs his nose all over Dan’s nose, for minutes at a time. It’s a sign of affection, but also a little disgusting when you think of where that nose has been (Toby’s, not Dan’s).

I never get snorgled. The most I usually get is a dainty nose-to-nose touch, if I’m lucky. (I once got nipped on the nose by an over-excited cat while I was asleep. I … escorted her out of the bed, let’s say. (The word “yeet” also comes to mind.) But I digress yet again.) Sometimes, Toby drapes himself across my capacious bosom and sleeps. Apparently, my boobs resemble a pillow. Or maybe a waterbed.

Dan was also the subject of repetitive and unasked-for grooming by our calico, Dushenka (which means “little soul” in Russian or, colloquially, “sweetheart”). She found his beard and moustache irresistible and adorned them with copious amounts of warm cat spit as long as he would put up with it, while I said, “Aw, she loves you” in the background. (Frankly, I think she was just hinting that he needed a trim, a point of view I’m totally in sympathy with. But I digress some more.)

I’ve learned a thing or two about cats since we’ve had them (various ones over decades). We had one tortoiseshell cat named Laurel who had to have an operation. When we got her back from her convalescence, her shaved belly was beginning to grow a lovely, almost invisible, coating of tender fuzz. I learned that I could zerbert her and feel the warm, barely-there fur, quite a captivating sensation. (You can also zerbert a fully-furred cat, but it only makes a “foof” noise. You have to have a cat that will allow you to touch its belly, of course. But I digress even more.)

I guess Dan is just lucky that none of our cats has had the habit of presenting him an up-close-and-personal view of its butthole, as some cats are wont to do. It’s supposedly a sign of affection, but I just don’t know. Doesn’t seem very friendly to me.

A Cat in the Night

cats, etc., family, pets, , , ,

Cats have a reputation for being aloof and unemotional. I’m here to tell you that’s not true. (They also have reputations for being graceful, which anyone who’s seen a cat fall off a window ledge can testify is unfounded. There are plenty of online videos that prove it too. But I digress.)

Actually, cats have wide emotional ranges, which can include anything from passive to pissed-off. One of our previous cats, Maggie, could snub a person so thoroughly that they knew they had been well and truly snubbed.

But every now and then, a cat will read your emotions and give you exactly what you need.

We have a cat named Toby. He’s generally happy-go-lucky, with a trace of skittishness. He doesn’t purr much, but he makes crazy sounds like “ma-weep” that I don’t know how he can do without proper lips. He does like to cuddle when we’re on the sofa or the comfy chair, either nestled in my husband’s arms or draped across my capacious bosom. (If I were a different sort of writer, I would have titled this “Bosom Buddies.” But I digress. Again.) At night our other cat, Dushenka, snuggles up by Dan’s head, while Toby sometimes curls up by my feet, to be joined by Dushenka if Dan starts rocking and rolling too much in his sleep.

This day, though, I had simply had enough. Dan forgot to pick up something I needed when he went to the store. I was still suffering the aftereffects of dental surgery and was sorely sick of eating broth and mush, enlivened only by peanut butter or the occasional scrambled egg. Something I ordered arrived but wasn’t right. It wasn’t a day when big problems unexpectedly dropped in my lap. It was a day when I felt like I was being nibbled to death by ducks.

I sat on the sofa beside Dan, tears slowly trickling down my face, which he didn’t see. Later he claimed he did but didn’t know what to do about it, which is in some ways worse.

At last, we went to bed and Dushenka curled up next to hubby as usual. Dan went promptly to sleep, a thing I can never manage to pull off. I lay in bed, tears still trickling, making small puddles in my ears.

Then Toby came, and lay next to me, his furry little head resting on my arm. And he stayed with me. He would sometimes move a little, twist around to find a better position. But he always ended up in some configuration with his head on my arm. He was a soothing presence, giving me just what I needed – silent comfort and undemanding physical contact.

We stayed like that for hours. Once in a while, I reached to touch him, but it didn’t seem to disturb him. It was me and Toby, communing through the long, dark hours of the night.

Eventually, I was calm and reassured enough to sleep, and I turned on my side, the only way I ever sleep. Toby retreated to his usual position alongside my feet, close enough to return to his protective, gently soothing position if I needed his presence again. But I slept through the rest of the night, dreamless, and awoke calm, ready to face the next day and all its ducks. Knowing that Toby was there if I needed him.