Tag Archives: comfort

Halfway

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Smudge in prime telly  position.

Smudge doesn’t support equality. The geriatric moggie (15½), follows a ‘Top Cat’ policy and envisages that I will serve him 24/7.

While I’m watching telly he’ll jump up on the couch, make himself comfy, and sit on my lap. I’ll get up to make a cup of tea, but find when I return that he has strategically moved across to my seat in the centre—which is perfect viewing. The fluffball expects me to now sit on either side of him.

The other night I rebelled and pretended to sit on top of him. Smudge didn’t budge, but his ears were flat. I then sat mainly on the seat cushion next to him—filled with foam, it sank down—and partly on the side of his cushion, which also dipped a little. The look I received would have caused a bird to shudder. Immediately, Smudge pulled out a paw from under his chest and leapt off the couch, retreating to the tub chair in the spare room.

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Smudge snoozing – ‘Do Not Disturb’.

A few hours later ready for bed, he jumped on the couch and pawed my arm. Dozing myself, I was being kicked off.

History repeats itself… The next night after getting a cup of tea, I returned to the couch and sat next to Smudge. However, this time, the big mog grudgingly shifted across so I could sit in my prime spot and rested his front paws on my thigh. For a while, I was no longer a slave to the moggie!

The Human.

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Bed Time Antics And Other High Jinks

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Smudge lounging on the bed.

After being stomped and prodded on this morning, followed by a fluffy tail placed strategically close to my face, I promptly got up. Half an hour later, I find Smudge still lounging on the bed contemplating his day.

He is a paradox—his actions both predictable and unexpected. Sometimes early morning, he will snuggle on the bed making himself comfy. Yesterday, as I rolled over on my side, Smudge bulldozed his way between a gap in the covers beside me. Turning around, he parked his head on the pillow, his body, hidden under the doona. The big mog has always been a connoisseur of comfort. He has numerous beds, his own rug and regularly uses my belly as a makeshift cushion. During winter, he hogs the heater.

Last night before getting ready for bed, I let Smudge out hoping that he’d do his business in the garden. Later, I checked the opened, front door, his usual sleeping spots, and called out his name several times. Ten minutes later, I found him hiding in the kitchen.

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Snoozing again and ‘those claws’.

I was typing this entry at my desk when Smudge reached up and spiked my thigh. Not happy! As he released his paw, a claw remained caught in my pants. The harder he pulled, the deeper it became embedded in the fabric. While trying to separate us, I slowly slid off the chair, but he kept tugging. I’m embarrassed to say that after dropping my pants, Smudge finally managed to draw his paw free.

The Human.

Sleep – I Wish

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Comfy.

A connoisseur of comfort, Smudge has many sleeping spots around the house. His favourite places are an armchair and the couch, the bottom shelf in the hall cupboard, on top of an overnight bag and of course, my bed – mostly when I’m absent.

Due to my study efforts and feeling ignored, he is sleeping back on the bed at night with me. I’d prefer that he didn’t because having a bony chin stuck into my leg is really uncomfortable. I’m a restless sleeper and with Smudge on the bed, I feel guilty turning on my side, rolling onto my back and constantly turning while he stays curled up in the same position for ages.

Recently, I can’t tolerate the weight of the doona on my sore foot, especially when a hefty moggie is leaning on my ankle.

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Smudge’s sheet roll.

Early each morning after torturing me to get his breakfast, Smudge will then go outside and patrol his territory. In no time, he will return to bed. When I’m up again he follows me, but sometimes the slacker will snooze for another hour.

Often I wake-up and find myself on one side of the mattress, while the furball is in the centre of the bed, curled up, his eyes and nose hidden underneath a fluffy tail. Yesterday, I found myself balanced on the edge of the bed – literally on a quarter of the mattress – so I shoved him over. Soon Smudge began pawing at my cheeks and flicking his tail across my face.

The Human.