There is evidence of criminal activity, with claw marks etched into the re-upholstered couch. I’m not happy.
I find the culprit in the lounge room mucking around. Sprawled across the rug and with a right paw, Smudge whops a miniature ball across the room.
He reverts to a pounce—head thrust forward, chin on the floor, tail straight and pupils dilated— full like the moon. Smudge sprints forward, batting the ball soccer style between front paws unit it rolls under the cabinet. He sniffs the bottom of the cabinet, then bounds over, curving his body around the lower half of his scratching post, claws extended with a glint in his eyes.
I throw a small stuffed toy towards him. He skews it with a claw, chomps down and chews the body while clutching it between his paws, then pushes it away. Both Smudge’s eyes are focussed on my ankles. As he gets up, his velvet ears are now flat.
‘Don’t you even think about it.’ He hesitates…
Yesterday, Smudge had another altercation with the intruder cat and has been waiting for it to show up. I believe his excessive behaviour is due to frustration and what he would like to do to his nemesis.
However, in contrast, the big moggie can be hospitable and has brought home a young, male cat and dare I say it, a girlfriend, (but that’s another post). One night, while I was watching TV, Smudge sauntered in and plonked himself down opposite me.
Suddenly, a skinny, dark and cappuccino-cream striped cat appeared behind him. It stopped, surveying me. Smudge got up and proceeded to show his guest around the house. The cat followed so close behind, that I nicknamed him Shadow. I even offered our visitor some dry food. Shadow came to visit for three weeks, then I never saw him again. Smudge…
PS Smudge wanted to know if you liked his ‘About’ page.