Toby needs to work on his social skills. He's like a little kid who learns something new and goes too far with it. The other critters give kind of a cursory sniff of one another's hinder parts as a way of saying "Hello," but he shoves his cold, wet little nose right up the tailpipe, causing no end of ill feelings.
Samantha in particular is prone to overreacting to Toby's "Howdy!" He never fails to catch her completely by surprise, causing her to leap straight up and come down in full Halloween cat mode, swinging hard and fast at the offending olfactory appendage.
She reminds me of a little old lady I saw one Sunday morning coming out of church. I was driving down the street in the curb lane at the posted speed limit of 45 mph, she was walking toward me close to the curb, with her bible and little white gloves clutched in her hand. The expression on her face was of almost beatific peace. We tied for the crosswalk, and with no warning she swiveled on her toe and stepped off the curb right in front of me. I missed her toes by about an inch. I mean, I was right there, right then. That was the maddest woman you ever saw in your life. She was screaming names at me I hadn't heard since the military, shaking her fist and screeching at the top of her lungs.
That's Sam's reaction to Toby's greeting.