Welcome Home Walter Mitty!

From the Journals of Most Beloved

July 21, 2023

Friday and feels like Saturday

81 degrees and buggy

Sun is shining (finally!)

Torrential rain and hail twice this week

The new cat, Walter Mitty, sleeps in the room overlooking the back gardens.

He’s sleeping in MY condo, third tier, just like I do!

Hrumpf. . .I am not impressed

Walter Mitty Looks for a Forever Home

I saw him first because I always sit in my cat hammock watching the cats come and go across our brick wall. Long, sleek, and not quite like our other tabbies around here, this cat peered in the window to look at me. I knew from the get-go he was trouble. He seemed to want to come in. I hissed and growled as loudly and as long as I could. He seemed completely undeterred.

He came to eat breakfast the next morning with the outside cats. He didn’t fit in at all. He got pushed out of the num-num tray and then I heard it: He opened his mouth as wide as he could and began moaning.

Woe is Me

“Woe is me” he sang, and “Nobody loves me” he moaned. Frankly I think he was being melodramatic. He looked like he had a home. Why didn’t he just go home? Everybody heard him moaning and groaning, up the scale and down the scale, over and over, on repeat and ad infinitum.

Most importantly, She Who Loves Me Most heard him “crying”–that’s what she called it, “crying like a baby.”

“What a sweet, sweet cat,” she said, “That cat must be lost. We have to help him find his way home.”

The next morning for the outside cats’ breakfast, “that cat” marched right into the garage, literally the second the door made its whirring sound signaling it was going up.

“Moan” he groaned. “Woe is me” he moaned.

Walter Mitty Invites Himself Inside

I saw it coming. She Who Loves Me Most bent over to pet that cat and he lovingly rubbed against her leg. “That cat is definitely not a stray cat and certainly not a wild, feral cat,” she said. “He wants to come inside. He’s terribly lonely and lost,” she said.

I sighed. I really wasn’t up to having any kind of company at all. I just wanted to lounge in a sunny window and whittle away my day. Have I said I don’t like change? Because I absolutely do not like change of any kind, especially when it involves having another cat brought into the big house.

“What a sweet, sweet cat—so appreciative of having human touch, a full belly, a place to stay out of the rain and away from cat fights,” she said as they carried that cat who, after moaning and groaning for what seemed forever, suddenly quieted down. They carried “that cat” to the room with all of the windows, the long, tall windows, the room where my kitty condo is located, right next to a sunny window.

“What shall we call him?”

“Let’s call him Walter. Walter Mitty. As in The Secret Life of Walter Mitty because somewhere, somehow, Walter has a past that we don’t know about. Plus look at his paws–he has four mittens on his toes!”

She Who Loves Me Most sounded delighted. I was not impressed.

“He is so appreciative of being cared for after whatever missteps happened for him to have happened upon us here.”

“Somewhere,” She Who Loves Me Most continued, “Walter Mitty Had a Life that will always remain a secret to us.” She closed the room to the door with the long, tall windows.

A Trip to the Veterinarian

“Tuesday is a trip to the vet for neutering and shots,” She Who Loves Me Most said, “and it can’t come soon enough—it’s honestly the reason we’re keeping him separated from Most Beloved right now.”

She went on: “Much to my surprise, Walter is not a cat who sprays errantly and everywhere just to mark territory of his own.”

Yes, I can confirm: I, too, am thrilled to have him not hiking his fanny marking everything in the room with the long, tall windows. Perhaps Walter will know his place here. The pecking order, shall we say. Or in other words, who is in charge. Because, naturellement and all that jazz, of course ’tis I, Most Beloved, who am always (and I do mean always) in charge.

Walter Meets Most Beloved

Fast forward several weeks, and well, here we are. Walter is asleep in my kitty condo in the bay window, and I am napping in my little red bed by the music room window. It has not been without its difficult moments, but Walter and I are at least on speaking terms.

Walter and I can both be in the same room at the same time, and we can both share the same piece of furniture. I have stopped most of my snarling and hissing and growling (though still reserve the right to grouch at him if he annoys me).

Slow and Steady Wins the Race

Walter is 1 and 1/2 years old. 18 months. A teenager in terms of being a cat. He’s rambunctious, active, loves to play, and is downright silly at times. He’s a long cat, and a big cat at 14 pounds, and to hold him is to hold a young child. Walter just flops and drops into your arms (or lap) like a baby.

Completely relaxed, Walter just collapses, his hind quarters falling off your lap–or out of your arms–unless you catch him to cradle him against you. Walter Mitty and I are still vying for attention, though really, as She Who Loves Me Most says, “there’s plenty of love to go around.”

Most Beloved? Well, I am 10 and 1/2 years old, a senior cat. My days are slower paced, much of my day is spent napping, and I don’t like a change in my routines. Walter wants to play with me, but I’m not up for his kind of active play. Walter and I have had a few skirmishes, but She Who Loves Me Most has always taken the time to give me more time away from Walter.

Walter still sleeps at night in the room with the long, tall windows while I roam free. That’s best for everyone right now (or at least anyone who wants to get some sleep without hearing a potential cat quarrel).

What’s Blooming in the Gardens?

Here are a few of the flowers that are blooming in the gardens right now.