Smokey did not scratch much when he arrived, so I assumed that we would not have to worry about him ruining our furniture. I bought him one of those long cardboard scratchers just in case. Then on a whim I bought him a sisal mat scratcher. He liked it very much compared to the cardboard scratcher. It was kind of like his place mat. Wherever we left it on the floor, he would lounge on it, he loved it so much.
But then one day I caught him. There he lay sprawled on his side against the bottom of the couch. His paws stretched forth and began to scratch.
No! Bad Smokey!
He looked up at me. "What?"
Nevertheless, he stopped for the moment I was staring at him. Then the moment I looked away, the scratching sound began again.
SMOKEY!
Again, the blank look on his face.
The above exchange happened intermittently over the next few weeks, with me trying to remedy his desire to scratch elongated by shoving the cardboard scratcher on its side against the bottom of the couch. No dice. He even started on the arm of the couch. Then he really began to freak me out when he decided once that scratching the door frame would be a good idea. I immediately ran out and bought a tall vertical scratcher. He loves it, so I thought problem solved.
Yet today there I found him, again, on his side, at the bottom of the couch...and the scratching sound restarted.
BAD SMOKEY!
This time, his paws shrunk back and he stared up at me inquisitively. Was that a twinkle of shame I spied or did he put on a mask of remorse just to appease me?
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