Sometimes I wonder - did I make a mistake raising Toby? He was about 4 weeks old when he came into my life on a cold October day, dirty, oil covered and very, very loud. My first clear memory of him was looking down at him in the box, his head thrown back and his mouth wide, complaining very vigorously about his lot in life to date. I think he knew, even then, he was destined for luxury and personal staff. And darn it, he wanted to fast forward to that part.
He was there when I had to let Mina go to the Bridge; he climbed onto me while I cried and snuggled close. In some ways I think he absorbed the love I had/have for Mina, so I really love him for two cats. I was there for him a few months later when he had his hoohaectomy. That was rough on him. He was upset, hurting; I brought him home and held him close. He fell asleep with his arms around my neck.
It amazes me that a creature as big as Toby can be so hypersensitive. Leia is much braver than he. And that is the problem. When the kittens were in here last year, he had a very bad time with that. Pulled his fur right out on his hip. I know that when one is pulled too young from the mom, that creates other problems. Yet, I've known others like that, and they are pretty resilient beings.
I've given him, and Leia, a great deal of love and attention. I will never believe I give them "too much" yet I have to ask - is there a way to help him be stronger? He and I are actually very alike, emotionally. Did I rub off on him somehow?