A pure white cat called Grubby… hmm… got to be a story there.
And, as it turns out, there is. Grubby was found by Carol living under a car. What with all the oil and dirt down there, he came out looking mostly white but, well, kind of grubby. Marianne tells of how Carol bathed him to get all the stuff off him, but just couldn’t seem to get this last little bit on his forehead. However much futile scrubbing later, she realized that’s just the way his fur is – pure white except for this faint grayish smudge on his head.
I’ve always found Grubby to be very – no, scratch that – extremely responsive, but he’s not the kind of cat who will come and tap you on the leg to ask for your attention. When he’s resting or just hanging out, a person could potentially just walk by Grubby without realizing how affectionate he is. And unfortunately, many people do pass him by.
But all it takes is a single stroke and the response is electric.
Grubby isn’t the sort of cat who can just sit still and let himself be cuddled. His love of the high energy kind and he seems to consider most encounters worth a wriggling, tail-swishing dance of joy.
What can he say? He’s happy to see ya.