iRelle

As anyone who follows me on twitter, facebook or IRL (that’s creepy, stop it) knows, I have a new kitten. A kitty shortage around town led me to do the unthinkable and soften my heart for just one moment towards a certain black and white, fluffy, shy little ball of fuzz in the pet shop. Her sisters were bouncy and hilarious short-haired furballs, but Smudge seems to be a little more long-haired, and a lot more reticent… and somehow, I managed to win Mum over to the idea of a *cough cough* medium-haired cat. 

And so Smudge became one of the family. As my mother repeatedly assures me, Smudge is ‘all mine’ and therefore is my responsibility. She’s skittish and playful by turns, and the cutest thing she’s done yet is inquisitively pat the allergy-induced tears on my cheeks with a soft little paw, as if to say ‘well, what’s this thing here for?’.

Of course, buying a kitten (and a long-hair one at that) is possibly the stupidest thing someone with an allergy to cats can do. Although I had developed an immunity to Possum, after snuggling up to Smudge for a day my nose won’t stop running, I sneeze periodically and my eyes are itchy, watery red orbs. I just keep telling myself that I’ll build up an immunity to Smudgie, too. Let’s just hope it doesn’t take ten years!

So, this is Smudge. Smudgie. Smudgeon, Smudger, Smoodge. My very-own-all-my-own-ever-and-ever kitten to love and snuggle to my heart’s content. *goes down under a flying attack from the Smudge-cat*

And right now, that’s pretty content.

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