laters ‘mudge 

Hard as it was, today Zac and Mama G said goodbye to Smudge.
We’d been waiting for it to happen, not that that made it any easier.
Zac had been agonising over what to do, the meds they’d given him had seemed to have been working, he didn’t want to put him down if he was still relatively healthy.
He was still normal Smudge, still wanting cuddles, still being annoying, but as the effects of his medicine started to wear off, his weight dropped dramatically and they had to make the decision that it was time.

Zac had asked me if I’d mind if he went in my dressing gown.
Apparently he’d spent most of his last week tucked up in it, still purring away to himself – it hadn’t been washed since I left, so I was hoping it smelt like me enough he wouldn’t completely forget me.
Strange as it sounds, I wanted to Smudge to remember me.


I was at Lewis’ house when Zac sent me that snap and the well of emotion that bubbled up inside me took me by surprise.
I knew I was going to miss him, but I thought I’d already got over it, but seeing him all tired, and sore, and just so unlike the cat I loved was tough.
Even from that angle, you can tell he’s not a well cat.


I’m going to miss my editor in chief.
I still have the scar on my leg from the only time he ever scratched me, angry because I was trying to move and he didn’t want me to go – although now I don’t know if it wasn’t because he was already hurting and I’d picked him up the wrong way.
I’ll miss him trying to snuggle in between my legs, when I’m typing, even when there clearly was no room, wearing my laptop on his head when he just wasn’t getting enough attention sat next to me.
I’ll miss him following me around when I went to get water, or coming to find you if you went to a different room.
I’ll miss him being a princess and only drinking water out of a people cup, or only eating yogurt if it was off a plate.
I’ll miss him being a pain in the arse if we’re eating something he wants, or how he’d paw at my dressing gown to get in and then try and stick his head in the sleeve.
I’ll miss him waiting on the drive for us when we get home, and all the silly noises he used to make.
He wasn’t my furbaby for long, but it was long enough.


Zac and Smudge cuddled up on the sofa: as soon as we lay down, we’d have a cat on us. His favourite spot was on someone’s chest – although he did tend to wobble about trying to get comfortable on my boobs!