One night Dusty and I were chilling in my bedroom at my parents' house. We were dating at the time and spending pretty much every minute together. I'm a little fuzzy on all the details, but my dad was in his bathroom across the house and heard a persistent meowing coming from outside his window. He ran outside and saw a tiny speck of a grey fur ball by the air conditioner unit.
My dad loves cats. In fact he loves pretty much all animals, but cats are his favorite. He is also deathly allergic in a throat swelling shut kinda way. He brought the fluff ball inside and my mom named her Smokey.
While Smokey was a kitten she lived with my parents. It was late fall when she arrived and she stayed through the holidays climbing the tree and being an adorable nuisance. Unfortunately, she grew from kitten to cat and whatever hormonal changes occured with aging she quickly started to make my dad sneeze and itch and not be able to breathe.
She went to live with Dusty and the following fall we got married. Smokey has been with us for 11 years now.
Smokes is a good cat. She is insanely soft and fluffy with the type of fur that makes you walk around rubbing your nose all day thinking you still have it clinging everywhere. She is aloof. Most of her day is spent sleeping somewhere quiet and she always chooses the best spots in the house for her naps. In summer she picks the nicest breeze and in the winter the sunniest spot she can find.
When she wants company, you better watch out. She will curl up on your chest and spread her front legs to give you a wonderful kitty hug around your neck. And then she will stay for hours on end. The pre-Wyatt era was great for spending long rainy afternoons with a purring Smokey cat on your chest and movies on the TV. Nowadays, she doesn't get so much snuggle time unless it is after he goes to bed.
When she doesn't want company, you better watch out. Leave her alone. My great grandmother came over to my house after I got married and saw Smokey there. Smokey was sitting on the floor glaring at her. She asked "Who is that mean cat?"
Poor Smokey. She isn't mean. She is the absolute monarch of our household. She looks over everything with her kitty disdain and will let you know when something isn't to her liking.
Smokey loved Hero. They were the absolute best of friends and I know she misses him dearly. I would come home from work and find the two of them snuggled up and sleeping. They played, snuggled and cleaned each other on a daily basis. I really miss seeing the two of them together.
She is going on 12 this year and is going strong. She was spayed as a kitten, but not declawed. She uses her claws on the cat tree and scratching post only and has never ruined anything by scratching on it. She has broken numerous things when she decided she had to lay exactly where some object is and pushes it off in disgust. That's just the way she rolls.