When I scratch the rug, the human claps her big mitts together and growls, ‘Smudge, No!’ How predictable…
My favourite thing to do now is clasp the rug between my front paws, while chewing the straggly bits. I imagine it’s a feathered chirper trying to escape my clutches. Whack, whack, the rug hits the floor as I give it a beating with my back paws as well. Of course, the human isn’t impressed.
Often she is distracted, staring at a pile of litter-type lining on the floor. I’ll saunter over and plonk my backside right in the middle of it and start pawing.
‘Smudge,’ there she goes again. She tries to lift a layer, but a piece breaks off because I’m hefty.
From the couch, she watches that loud, annoying box every night. Later, she stretches out and soon makes putt, putt sounds.
I give her a nip or claw her arm. ‘Hey, get up… You’re sleeping on my bed and I want to snooze.’
The human doesn’t have too much between the ears and is easy to manipulate. I’ve trained her well to give me her full attention, as I hate being ignored.
Every now and then, I’ll change my sleeping spot to the soft, round chair. Not only comfy, I’ve got my big toy mouse to snuggle up against. Sometimes, it’s better to cosy up with something furry, small and quiet, rather than the human.