TOOF
"Toof" is a true story written and narrated by Eva Roethler
Sound design by Pregnant on their album, "Bonfire"
Sound design by Pregnant on their album, "Bonfire"
I was raised in Iowa by staunchly atheist parents. It was hammered into my head early on to ask questions and be skeptical of everything. There was no room to entertain the paranormal or supernatural in our family. That being said, there's still one experience I had that I wonder about to this day.
When I was 12, we moved out of a crappy 100-year-old farmhouse we'd been renting while we built our own house on this property that we'd inherited from my grandparents. It was beautiful. Ten acres of native forest that had all of these species of plants on it that indicated it was virgin, uncultivated land that had been untouched for a really, really long time.
A while after we'd moved into the new place, I was playing outside in the woods one day. When I saw in the distance my cat Toof was walking towards me, which sounds pretty uneventful, but this was different. At the farmhouse Toof had been a standard, friendly, run-of-the-mill domestic house cat. His full name was actually Toof Uzzy because he was such a cuddly little furball. But we called him Toof for short.
After we moved to the new place, Toof changed. He started spending more and more time outside. He'd disappear for days at a time and come back with scratches and flesh wounds from fighting. He had gone, like, totally feral. When he did come back, he wouldn't approach us or get close enough for us to pet him anymore. That day when I was standing outside we hadn't seen Toof for weeks, and now he was coming straight towards me.
So 12-year-old me gets really excited and I think, "Oh, maybe I'll get to pet Toof again!”
I try to play it cool so I don't scare him off. He comes right up to me and starts rubbing against my leg. I try to casually lean over and pet him. Right as my hand is about to touch him, he scampers off—right out of arm's reach—then stops and looks up at me, almost expectantly. I nonchalantly walk over to him and try again. Same thing. He scampers off—out of arm's reach—looks up at me and waits. This repeats a handful times.
Eventually, I notice that we've gone quite a distance into the forest. We're at the edge of our property and I can barely even see the house anymore. At this point, I realize, "This is stupid. I'm following my cat into the woods. What am I doing? I'm going home!” Then as I turn around and start heading home, Toof runs in front of me, cuts me off, arches his back, and hisses at me. Which is bizarre.
After a moment, he relaxes and walks past me back in the direction that we've been going. He looks back at me and waits until I start walking towards him. He takes the lead and I start to follow. Another 20 or 25 minutes go by, and then I start to get scared. We're really deep in the woods now, we're no longer on our property and we're really far away from home. Again, I turn to go back, and again he runs and blocks my path and postures aggressively. After another moment he relaxes and walks back in the direction we've been going and that's when I think, "Maybe he's trying to show me something?"
Even though I was really scared, I am curious what he might be leading me to and I decide to follow him for a little while longer. Another 10 or 15 minutes go by, it's getting later in the evening, and I start to get really worried that I won't make it home before the sun goes down. I'll get stuck in the woods in the dark and get lost forever or something.
That's when we crest the top of this ridge overlooking the creek that winds through the forest. Then abruptly he sits. He's totally still and I stand motionless next to him, hardly breathing. And that's when I realized it's totally silent. It was eerie. Up until that point, there had been normal forest noises like birds and wind and stuff. But here, there is just nothing. So we wait, frozen, for what feels like eternity but was probably just a couple of minutes.
Then, suddenly, out of nowhere there's this sound. It's hard to describe. It is sort of yelling, but wasn't quite human, like cries or something. And the thing is, it's not coming from any one direction or source is everywhere from all directions. And it's filling the air and circling me to the point where I'm starting to feel dizzy. I'm getting goosebumps. It was totally overwhelming and intense. It lasted maybe one or two minutes. Then just as quickly as it had started, it stopped. And I ran. I ran all the way home.
I was so spooked when I got back, but I didn't think I could tell my parents. I was certain that they would tell me I was imagining things, but it was just so vivid. The way it all played out: The way Toof had behaved so strangely, and the way it had been so quiet, and that sound is so haunting.
To this day, I'm not convinced it was anything more than my imagination, or birds or something. Even though I don't know of any bird that makes a sound like that. Or maybe it was something supernatural. Like maybe my cat was possessed and led me to a spirit portal! Or ancient burial grounds in our woods. But either way, I can't help but wonder what I encountered that day.
And we never saw Toof again.
When I was 12, we moved out of a crappy 100-year-old farmhouse we'd been renting while we built our own house on this property that we'd inherited from my grandparents. It was beautiful. Ten acres of native forest that had all of these species of plants on it that indicated it was virgin, uncultivated land that had been untouched for a really, really long time.
A while after we'd moved into the new place, I was playing outside in the woods one day. When I saw in the distance my cat Toof was walking towards me, which sounds pretty uneventful, but this was different. At the farmhouse Toof had been a standard, friendly, run-of-the-mill domestic house cat. His full name was actually Toof Uzzy because he was such a cuddly little furball. But we called him Toof for short.
After we moved to the new place, Toof changed. He started spending more and more time outside. He'd disappear for days at a time and come back with scratches and flesh wounds from fighting. He had gone, like, totally feral. When he did come back, he wouldn't approach us or get close enough for us to pet him anymore. That day when I was standing outside we hadn't seen Toof for weeks, and now he was coming straight towards me.
So 12-year-old me gets really excited and I think, "Oh, maybe I'll get to pet Toof again!”
I try to play it cool so I don't scare him off. He comes right up to me and starts rubbing against my leg. I try to casually lean over and pet him. Right as my hand is about to touch him, he scampers off—right out of arm's reach—then stops and looks up at me, almost expectantly. I nonchalantly walk over to him and try again. Same thing. He scampers off—out of arm's reach—looks up at me and waits. This repeats a handful times.
Eventually, I notice that we've gone quite a distance into the forest. We're at the edge of our property and I can barely even see the house anymore. At this point, I realize, "This is stupid. I'm following my cat into the woods. What am I doing? I'm going home!” Then as I turn around and start heading home, Toof runs in front of me, cuts me off, arches his back, and hisses at me. Which is bizarre.
After a moment, he relaxes and walks past me back in the direction that we've been going. He looks back at me and waits until I start walking towards him. He takes the lead and I start to follow. Another 20 or 25 minutes go by, and then I start to get scared. We're really deep in the woods now, we're no longer on our property and we're really far away from home. Again, I turn to go back, and again he runs and blocks my path and postures aggressively. After another moment he relaxes and walks back in the direction we've been going and that's when I think, "Maybe he's trying to show me something?"
Even though I was really scared, I am curious what he might be leading me to and I decide to follow him for a little while longer. Another 10 or 15 minutes go by, it's getting later in the evening, and I start to get really worried that I won't make it home before the sun goes down. I'll get stuck in the woods in the dark and get lost forever or something.
That's when we crest the top of this ridge overlooking the creek that winds through the forest. Then abruptly he sits. He's totally still and I stand motionless next to him, hardly breathing. And that's when I realized it's totally silent. It was eerie. Up until that point, there had been normal forest noises like birds and wind and stuff. But here, there is just nothing. So we wait, frozen, for what feels like eternity but was probably just a couple of minutes.
Then, suddenly, out of nowhere there's this sound. It's hard to describe. It is sort of yelling, but wasn't quite human, like cries or something. And the thing is, it's not coming from any one direction or source is everywhere from all directions. And it's filling the air and circling me to the point where I'm starting to feel dizzy. I'm getting goosebumps. It was totally overwhelming and intense. It lasted maybe one or two minutes. Then just as quickly as it had started, it stopped. And I ran. I ran all the way home.
I was so spooked when I got back, but I didn't think I could tell my parents. I was certain that they would tell me I was imagining things, but it was just so vivid. The way it all played out: The way Toof had behaved so strangely, and the way it had been so quiet, and that sound is so haunting.
To this day, I'm not convinced it was anything more than my imagination, or birds or something. Even though I don't know of any bird that makes a sound like that. Or maybe it was something supernatural. Like maybe my cat was possessed and led me to a spirit portal! Or ancient burial grounds in our woods. But either way, I can't help but wonder what I encountered that day.
And we never saw Toof again.