Helo, my name is Toss. I'ze the tuff boycat arownd heer. I'ze five yeers old. I'ze not oranj, I'ze not yello--I'ze a gingur cat.

This pitcher is of me lurking arownd in the camellia booshes in our bakyard. I like hiding in the booshes and powncing on the uther cats.

I came to live heer in Novembur of 1992, right befur Fangsgiving. I used to live wif Misha's ex-boyfrend's famlee (they called me Pumpkin), but I was havin problims a-justing. I was brot to their howse originaly becawse I had gotten mineownself stuk in a tree, and coodn't get down. They felt sorry fur me. But I wood do things like potty in the middul of their beds, and lawndry baskits, and get in fites wif the uther cats they had.

Misha wood be there almost efurry day. I luved her. I wood alwaze run to her and she wood pick me up and set me on her sholder. I was barely two munths old, so I cood sit there, snuggled unnerneeth her hair, purring.

The "final straw" came two days befur Fangsgiving. The hoomin muther there had pulled this huge roast outta the oven and set it on the cownter to cool. Then she turned arownd to take off the oven mitts. When she turned bak arownd, there I was, munchin happily on that big roast. I was smackt off the cownter and ranned away and hid. The next day when Misha showed up, they said they was gonna take me to the pownd, unless she wantid me, becawse they knew how much I liked her. What cood she say but "Yes!"?

So off we went, on that Wenzday morning, in Misha's truk-masheen. I sat in her lap the whole way there, a bit nerfus, but happy that I was with her. She kept saying, "How on urth am I going to explane yu to my parints?" She wurkt owt the purr-fect story on the way back. She new she had a trump card--hur Granma was owt to visit fur Fangsgiving, and she luved all animals.

So we pulled in the driveway and Misha carried me to the frunt dorr. She turned on the waterworks and started sniffling like she was upset, as she opined the dorr and we went in the howse. There in the famlee room was Daddy, Granma, and the howsekeeper, who was dustin.

"Oh Daddy, it's the most horrabul thing!" sed Misha as she began to relate this story about drivin home and these awful people throwed a plastic bag in frunt of her truk, which she swerved to avoid, and saw the bag wrigglin. An inside it was me, and "Oh Daddy, isn't he the cutest little oranj kitten yu've ever seen?" Then Granma pickt me up and put me in her lap and started scratchin my eers and neck. "What a poor little kitty...aren't yu sweet?"

So I staid. Efurryone said how cute I was, and so tiny, too. Gypsy, Abra, and Bandit met me that afternoon. Gypsy hissed, but Bandit and Abra were pretty nice to me. Misha, to keep up the act, kept sayin, "Oh, my poor little tossed-owt kitty. My sweet little toss-cat." and so on. That's how I got my name.

I had to sleep in the poolshed at nite, fur the furst few days, to give the uther cats time to adjust to my cute kitten self. The next day was Fangsgiving, and sum uther hoomins came to visit. They were all delited with how cute and tiny I was. And I got sum turkee, too! Boy, was that grate!

That nite, however, I startid sneezing. The next day Misha and her Daddy took me to the Murjensee TED. I got my tempacher taken, and a shot! and some pills I had to take, becawse I was sick wif a cold. Fur the next week I got Pounce with a pill stuk in them.

Ovur time, I have becom Daddy's cat. This pitcher is of me sittin in his lap in the bakyard, which is what I get to do alot (he's retired). I follow him arownd efurryware. When he cleens leeves owt of owr pool, I chase the drips of water that come frum the leef baskit. I haven't cawght them yet.

I also used to stalk the pool-cleener, which rolls arownd on the bottum and sidez of the pool. It had a hose on it that wood alwaze com owt and skwirt me. I wood follo it arownd the pool, meowing qwietly at it, saying that one day I wood get it and make it pay fur what it did to me. And I did! One day it surfased in the middul of the pool, and I jumpt into the pool and landed on it! I drowned it, and got myownself all wet at the same time! Misha, who was sittin in the hammock reeding a book, herd my splash and lept into the pool, abowt the same time I startid swimmin fur the side. I made it owt abowt the time she got to me, and I took off across the yard to hide! I was so embarist. She cot me, tho, and brot me in the howse to dry me off and give me treets. Soon aftur that, Daddy taked the hose off the pool-cleener, and I qwickly lost intrest in it.

I used to chase ice cubes that Misha would thro in the lawn fur me. Then I'd touch them and shivur frum the cold. One time, tho, she threw one towards me, and I ran forwurd to get it. Well, it bonkt me rite on the forehed! I was scared of Misha fur weeks, and I still flinch whenefer she raises her arm too fast.

This pitcher is of me, standin in the driveway, lookin at the frunt lawn. It was taken this last summer (1997).

Until Sparkle came to live wif us, I was the babycat, the spoilt, the sweet one. Then she came in and took ovur. Tried to play-fite and wressle wif me, tried to charm Daddy into givin her more treets or laptime, tried to out-do me whenefer she cood. I reely don't like her. I hiss at her when I see her in my howse, or in my Daddy's lap, or eeting my fud. I still get a lot of attenshun frum Daddy and efurryone else, but I still don't like Sparkle fur taking my position as yungest cat. Misha sez it's gud that Sparkle is heer, becawse she distracts me frum what used to be my favrite hobby--powncing on Gypsy Rose, Abra, or Bandit, who are now old kitties and don't like playin ruff.

Created November 5, 1996. Last updated November 6, 1997.