When I was a teenager, I somehow managed to become a magnet for a beautiful wild cat in the village and somehow convinced my mother to bring her in too.
This is our home first:
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Kitty is the first cat we finally call Smudge. He came back, ginger and white.
He has a tiny frame that is very small, and just like a cat, like a cat.
When we first met her, she came to our house to love her sadly, so we gave her milk and food outside.
My mother would not let me bring her inside, on the contrary, she said if it was tomorrow, you could bring her inside.
So I spent all night hoping this beautiful creature was still there in the morning and there must be a ledge on my mother who wished the opposite, because it was still out there in the morning, cold and miserable and just too happy to let in and hide under a warm warm stove.
It took a few days before he allowed us to stroke him and a few weeks before he came and sat on our lap, but he was the best cat anyone could ...
But despite all the love and attention she got and a lovely warm stove to huddle under when it was cold, there came a point when she decided to move to pastures new, after several years of us she must have got bored, or something.
We went for a walk on the moors behind our house and she decided to come with us and at some point, she went her own way and that’s was that she never came home.
After days of worrying, we found out she has decided to move in with the next door neighbor.
This lovely lady (said through gritted teeth)
was spoiling her rotten, Smudge got her own armchair with a regularly topped up hot water bottle, a cat cozy on the radiator, she wasn’t going anywhere, least of all home to me.
But, there was another cat also who had come to stay with us at this point…
He was a kool kat called Nails.
