When I first got Smudge, I’d had three names picked out for her. I can’t remember what they are now though. But as soon as that little bundle of white fluff crawled out of the cat carrier and looked at me, I knew her name was Smudge. Look at the splodge on that face!
Smudge is a bit of a loner. She got on fine with Lexie, but with other animals she’s not so fussed. Doesn’t fight or anything. She just keeps out of their way. Especially Gracie. She really doesn’t like Gracie. Every night around 10-12, I know exactly when I’ll get cuddles from Smudge. She’ll wait until Mum goes to bed, and shuts Gracie in the bedroom, then Smudge will come padding in and climbing on me for cuddles. Not that she stays long. She only cuddles when she wants to.
She’s also a bit odd. I quite often find her just sat staring at a wall. Maybe she has x-ray vision and is watching something on the other side. Maybe she’s just bananas.
But she’s so pretty is my Smudge. All white, now that her splodgey smudge has gone. And now that she gets to go outside, she sometimes comes in with big grey or black patches from whatever she’s gotten into. But she’s still gorgeous.
Smudge caused me a lot of worry and money at the end of last year. I got a phone call from someone saying they had my cat outside and she seemed distressed. The lady had driven down the road, and Smudge had just been sat in the road, and wouldn’t move. The nice lady (who was afraid of cats!) got out of her car, and held my distressed cat until I came. As I approached, she wormed out of the woman’s grasp and ran off. But she didn’t seem injured, so I didn’t chase her. She came home eventually, and seemed fine. But later that evening she settled herself in a corner of my sister’s room under some furniture and wouldn’t come out. My sister said she saw blood. We had to move all the furniture to get to her, but when we did I was greeted with a bloody mess. Her lower jaw was covered in blood, it looked like she’d knocked all of her teeth out. Time for an out-of-hours visit to the vet.
We’re not sure how, but Smudge had degloved her jaw – meaning she’d pulled all the fur and skin away from her lower jaw. The vet patched her back up, and took out her one shattered tooth, and eventually her fur grew back. She’s fine now, but it scared the wits out of me.
I love my Smudgie-pants. Just like I love my Jasper-pants, who you can read about soon. How can you not love a fluff ball like that?