Undercover – ready to pounce on the  human.






I suspect Smudge was taken away from his mother too early as he lacks social skills.

I am reminded of this when I return from a holiday in New Zealand, participating in extreme sports: paragliding, zipping down flying foxes, a glacier walk and swimming with dolphins.

Back in Australia, the weather is extreme—40 degrees C. With the housesitter gone, Smudge greets me warmly, then retires for a customary snooze. Jet-lagged, I welcome sleep too.

Early the next morning, I awake in pain. I’ve forgotten how dangerous it is to be only covered with a sheet and no doona. Smudge has latched onto my ankle. He imagines it’s a plump pigeon or a tantalising rat. It isn’t as much fun for him If I endure and remain still, but if I move, he will chomp harder. I move…

‘Get off,’ I scream, shoving him off the bed. I yank the sheet up and secure the folded doona over my feet and lower legs, but my torturer is persistent.

Smudge leaps back onto the bed. He studies me as I roll over into a foetal position. I wonder what is going on inside his pea-sized brain? Walking backwards with an erect tail, he shoves his backside into my face.

Reeling back, then bolting upright, I am now fully awake. My wounds are smarting. I inspect them—2cm slashes on my left ankle and a deep cut on my big toe. This is extreme. I’m not enjoying being Smudge’s sport.

The human.

Me, paragliding.

Me, paragliding.

View of Queenstown, New Zealand.

View of Queenstown, New Zealand.

Happy, now the human's home.

Happy, now the human’s home.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s