Tag Archives: snoozing

A Step Behind


Hogging the heater.

It was late and a winter’s night. As usual, Smudge lay sprawled across his rug hogging the heater, while from the couch my snores accompanied T.V. sounds. Suddenly, a thumping noise work me up.

Smudge must have gone to his water bowl, and now limped towards me, his right, front paw curled under. He tried extending his paw again, but quickly retracted it, dropping to his belly. I rushed to his side. Minutes later, he hadn’t advanced further. Smudge didn’t appear to be in constant pain, so I lifted him onto the couch and hoped that he would be okay.

The next day he was walking, but didn’t jump up on anything. I took Smudge to the vet who coaxed him out of the carrier with a few liver treats. The vet found that the big mog couldn’t move his right shoulder as high as the left one, then miraculously he could. Possibly, he had slept on his paw.

Back in the carrier, I lugged the fluff-ball to the car. ‘Expensive treats!’ I exclaimed.


Photo shy, and a floppy belly.

Three days later he’s leaping like an acrobat and been snuggling on the bed. Smudge is now sprinting down the hallway as we play hide and seek. Recently, there was another toilet incident—a trail of droppings inside—even though the back door was open. See ‘Holding On’, February, 2017. Smudge’s excuse:  It was a frosty morning.

At almost 15, Smudge’s attitude and good looks defies his age, although his belly hangs low.


Attention Seeker

Chewing the rug.

Chewing the rug.










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.


Snuggling with the mouse.

Snuggling with my toy mouse.