It’s Walter’s World: The Cat Who Ruled My Life
Our pets are more than just animals—they’re more like family, iykyk!! If only they could communicate with humans… though honestly, they’d probably just demand more snacks and tell us we’re doing everything wrong…
My late cat, Walter, my little bean- who recently passed away, had one hell of a personality. Honestly, I swear he was a human trapped in a cat’s body. He understood me, and I understood him. No joke, I could tell exactly what he wanted just from the tone of his endless meows. Now, Walter was a real yapper. He loved to talk. Sometimes, I’d just look at him like, “Oh my god, Walter, please shut up!” I’d meow-yell back at him, telling him to zip it for just two seconds, but patience wasn’t really his thing. He was a little evil, but also the sweetest. He loved kisses, but pet him in the wrong spot or for too long? He’d for sure claw your face off, then immediately go back to snuggling like nothing happened. It was just Walter’s world, and us human peasants just lived in it.
Every morning, like clockwork, he’d start his day between 4:00 AM and 5:30 AM, right in my face—meowing, stepping on my hair, sticking his butt in my face, stabbing his claws into me as he walked across my body, licking my face—you know, the usual “good morning” routine. He’d act like I was starving him, even though he was a chunkster. Some compared him to Garfield. But there he’d be, meowing up a storm until I finally got up. If I dared ignore him, he’d jump on the nightstand and start knocking everything over, I learned my lesson to not leave a glass on it… He would just stare at me like I was the one in the wrong. How dare I sleep.
After breakfast, he’d do his rounds—check the cat box, annoy the other animals real quick,inspect the windows, and then he’d reward me with some snuggles, curling up with me until I got up for real. Walter just wanted to be involved. In everything. It was impossible to shut a door on him. I couldn’t even pee without him. I’m convinced there’s a law in the cat world: “Thou shalt not allow your human to pee alone.” If I shut the bathroom door, his little paws would start shoving under it, accompanied by his high-pitched screeching. The second I opened it, he’d waltz in like nothing happened, totally content.
Walter could be a bit… difficult. He’d scratch, bite, steal food right off your plate with zero shame. Walter wasn’t always nice to other animals either. He was an alpha and let everyone know it. Didn’t matter if it was a 100-pound dog or a person, he’d show you who was boss. He had no problem breaking into the food closet either, especially if you left it slightly open. He’d rip through the bags, even recruiting the dogs to help. Walter wasn’t exactly popular with my roommates or parents either—tore apart the furniture to ya know, stretch from all the hard work he does.. my mom called him Lucifer. Everyone made it a big joke how he was mean and bad. But what made me sad was that no one else really got to see how much love he had in him.He was a total momma’s boy but, He was just the sweetest little devil. He loved cuddles, hugs, and kisses—he would literally pull my face to kiss my lips.. and just wanted to be warm and cozy with his humans. He always needed to be closest to you, and while the dog was allowed to join, it had to be at a respectable distance. Walter’s orders.
He was sensitive and protective too. If I ever got angry or upset and raised my voice, Walter would start meowing and giving me the stink-eye, like “Bitch, calm down” He’d just sit there and burn holes through me with his glare until I listened to him and relaxed. He meditated with me, picked my daily tarot cards, loved crystals, would stretch with me (more like would rub up against me swatting at my hair). He even played fetch. And despite being an indoor cat, he was trained to stay on the patio (he was trained well by my older cat Gus who was 20 years old) He’d roll around outside, eat grass, chase bugs, and stare at birds. Oh, and he loved snow. Weird, right?
And if there was a box around? Didn’t matter if it was too small, too big, or lopsided—he would claim it as his throne. Until a new box came along, of course.
He spent his days bossing everyone around, snacking on anything he could get his paws on, and in the winter, you’d always find him lounging in front of the fireplace. Cats are just cool like that. They do whatever they want because they can. It’s funny to think about how much was happening in my life for the years I had him—yet it was my big baby the 19-pound cat who ruled my world. He saved me in so many ways, and I miss his presence every single day.
So here’s to Walter, my sweet bean—the chunky king of sass, the purrmaster, the one who proved that cats truly know how to run the show. Let’s be real: we should all be taking notes from cats. They’ve got it all figured out—demanding what they want and taking action, taking up space, and making us humans cater to their every need. Walter, you may be physically gone. But, your spirit is fully alive and felt. May we all strive to embrace life with the unapologetic confidence, sass, and effortless ease as a cat lounging on a throne —or crammed into a box that’s way too small.
(Please tag me in all your cat pics on insta💗)
