It’s been a while since my last big case, so I will jog your memory about who I am. My name is Toby, and I live with Jack Nelson, a retired cop. I used to be quite stout, but since venturing into police work, I have put myself on a rigorous routine of fitness and healthy eating. That doesn’t always work out for me because, as my nature dictates, I am inclined to be a tad lazy sometimes––most of the time, actually. And I never miss a meal or a snack if I am passing through the kitchen. My hair is red; I once heard someone say redheads were God’s chosen people, so I assume that goes for cats too.
Now, do you remember? Yes, I am a cat––Detective Toby. I solved a crime about six months ago when Jack’s friend went loony and kidnapped his own kids. I saw through him right from the beginning; Jack didn’t. If it hadn’t been for me, goodness knows what would have happened to those kids. I was a hero, and everyone was grateful to me. The police department awarded me with a framed certificate, which certified I was a ‘Class-A Detective.’ I was told I was welcome any time down at the police station, which I take full advantage of every time Jack visits the captain, Bryce Wagner.
There have been a lot of changes in the past six months. Jack renovated the back door. I now have my own special cat door so I can come and go from the house as I please. Jack figured if another crime needed investigating, I wouldn’t have to wait for someone to open the door to get out and about detectiving if I had my own. There have also been some significant changes on the street. The old gym that used to be owned by Mardy Hampton was sold, and the new owners tore down the old building and are constructing a new one. I heard Jack say they were hoping to have it up and running by early spring. Jack has been talking about getting out of the neighbourhood for a time because he can’t sleep well with all the banging going on. Personally, I can sleep through most anything, but the 24-hour noise is starting to get to me, too.
At first, I thought Jack was going to move us completely out of the neighbourhood, but was relieved when I saw him just packing for a camping trip in his old campervan. I knew he wouldn’t leave me behind since I accompanied him most places now. I won’t bore you with the details of our month-long excursion through Northern Ontario because it isn’t relevant to the story that is going to unfold in the pages to follow.
Enough introductions. You know who I am now and you will be hearing more from me as the story of what happened during the summer of 2009 on the street where I live unfolds.