We had to let our beloved ball of white fur, Smudge, go to Rainbow Bridge yesterday. She was very poorly and wasn’t going to get better.
Smudge was just over seventeen, that’s 84 in human years. She was a present for me whilst I was commissioning a local flour mill. (In reality Sue wanted a cat and I came home one night to find a fluffy white ball of mischief in the kitchen).
Smudge gave us years of surprises; ranging from the time we found her upside down in the kitchen bin trying to get at some leftover chicken to waking up in bed in the dead of night with her stood on my chest and purring into my face.
The house is very quiet without her and we will always miss her. Louis has been looking for her all day; so have I…