Always Young

Pick the real moggie.

Pick the real moggie.

Smudge looks like a venerable, oriental gentleman, but don’t be fooled. Now 13 in human years, he continues to be exacerbating and his exuberant playfulness never wanes. The elderly fluffball sleeps a lot more now and has mellowed just a little.

Chubby Smudge with some toys.

Chubby Smudge with some toys.

As I get older, I don’t worry so much about how others see me, but Smudge still loves to impress the kitties by keeping up his fastidious grooming routine, and shimmying his tail.

These days, he subtly wakes me up in the morning with a gentle paw to the face. However, if I don’t get up, he’ll thrust his backside in my face, or block my nostrils with the end of his tail. It’s effective, but not nice.

That dreaded tail.

That dreaded tail.

I enjoy my comforts—a supportive bed and great food are bliss. Smudge has always made sure he is comfy, resting his head on cushions or pillows, even using my belly as a headrest when he is curled up or sprawled across my lap. Although he is fed nutritious cat food, Smudge manages to score a small piece of meat from my own dinner when I’m sitting on the couch watching T.V. After waiting a minute, he’ll saunter by and flick his tail near my food. If ignored, Smudge will jump up next to me and drool over my plate. Of course, I relent and he wins. An excellent human manipulator, Smudge won’t change, and I continue to be wrapped around his paw.

The human.


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