What’s wrong with the human? She spends heaps of time tapping away and staring at that flip-top thing, or concentrating on piles of litter material. Even when I’m curled in her lap trying to snooze, she will be scratching the litter with a stick next to me—how annoying.
I used to jump up and sit in front of the flip-top so she couldn’t see what she was doing and then walk across the empty part. It would make beeping noises and the human would get upset and shove me off. She wasn’t happy when I’d swipe her fingers too. How else was I to get her attention?
Late one night she was tap, tapping away and forgot she had left the front door open. Imagine her surprise when I had a bust-up with my noisy neighbour. Can you believe it, he actually came into my house—my territory—the intruder. Fur was flying, mostly mine. What a racket! There was screeching and screaming; the human rushed out in the dark and shouted too and then it was quiet. Suddenly our intruder dashed out.
In the morning the human picked up my fluff off the floor. When she found some short dark-grey fur, I think she realised that it was Slasher, a hefty possum who lives in the tall tree, close the front door. He’s leaving his trademark pellets on the big pathway and the human is not impressed when she stands in it.
N.B. Smudge understands limited words—only those that concern him—like cushion, rug and dinner etc., through sounds and association with a particular object.
MESSAGE: Sorry, but I’m back studying part-time, so posts will be infrequent as I have a few assignments looming—just finished one now, and have other work and things to attend to as well. Smudge is not suffering and still receives loads of my attention. For the last few weeks to get ahead, I have been going to bed in the early hours of the morning. I don’t appreciate being woken up and tortured when I’ve only had 4 hours sleep.