The giantest cat my family has ever had just turned 13 on July 4! Happy belated birthday, America, AND Walter!

No serious posts are forthcoming at the moment, nor will they be for the foreseeable future - or at least not until I've gotten a good night's sleep and can think critically - hence this loving fluff-headed ode to a favorite kitty. I will proceed with a list of thirteen charming Walter Moments:

1) When my parents and sisters first went to see Walter (who was not yet Walter) and his siblings, the little furhead won over all with the matched black paintbrush-stroke-ish markings on his hind hocks. As he cavorted in clumsy kitten play, these little British-style single quote marks kept his fluffy tail correctly attributed to his bottom.

 2) On the way to his new home, my mom decided to name him for her brother Buddy, who has always hated his given name (hence "Buddy"). And though it crossed no one's mind at the time, "Walter" is a stately name in a grand tradition of stately cat names: Preceding him in our household were Arthur, Duncan, Oscar,  Benjamin, Franklin, Gandalf, and Bilbo.

 3) On the same trip home, as he traveled ever further away from his mother, Walter amazed everyone in the car with his absurdly effeminate chirps of distress - strange for so robust and macho a kitten!

4) Upon my first Walter encounter while home for Thanksgiving break, I was less than impressed. He seemed very blah. Very big, but very blah. And his eyeliner somehow knocked a few points off my impression of his IQ. Plus he snorted instead of purring.

 5) Walter grew to 22 pounds of muscle in short order and became very testosteroney. My dad refused to let my mom get him neutered, we think because that would have left Dad the only intact male in the house. But then Walter exploded through a basement window to get at a stray orange tom in the front yard, badly slicing his nose in the process, and my mom won the argument that by this point had been going on for a year. Walter went to the vet for his nose - and for The Snip.

6) My sister went to collect Walter after said Snip, and the vet tech offered to give her the surgery-leavings in a jar - the vet had judged them the biggest cat testicles she had ever had the pleasure of removing. (Imagine all the unwanted kittens spared a lean life on the streets!)

7) When Walter was brought out to my sister in the waiting room - held as one would hold a two-year-old child since he was just as big - he turned and reached for her like a toddler who had feared himself abandoned forever.

8) Following his surgery, Walter became mellower and more loving. His snorts turned into snorty purrs that could be heard across the room over the television. And he settled into life post-tomcat as the best electric blanket ever. 

9) Enter kitten Andrew. Walter would let this tiny new upstart teethe viciously on his ears and tail until enough was enough, at which point Walter would sit on Andrew's head. The behemoth's purrs of satisfaction all but drowned out his tormentor's squalls of terrified indignation until a passer-by came to the rescue.

 10) We invented the Kleenex Bib especially for Walter, and we use it to this day in times of need. It consists of an unfolded Kleenex twisted at two corners to two more Kleenexes, rolled, that serve as bib closures. The bib, when properly fitted, rests under Walter's chin to absorb the excess drool elicited by cuddling, thereby saving shirts and jeans from unslightly wet patches.

11) Walter loves to lick hair and moustaches. He has scared several visitors - including my 80-year-old grandmother - half to death by sneaking up behind them on couch-backs and licking their heads. He also enjoys climbing up next to my dad when he's asleep on the sofa and licking his moustache. My mom says this is because my dad is a messy eater.

12) Walter must sit in your lap. Even if there is one or even two cats already in it. This is another situation which Walter deems most easily solved by sitting on other cats. Also, kneeling on the ground while giving fresh water is read by Walter as an invitation to sit in your lap - he does not care that kneeling does not create a true lap and that by climbing on you in that position he places undue strain on your quadruceps and ankles. He does not even care that it is uncomfortable for him too. He just wants to be near you.

 13) Now that he is old, Walter does not clean himself as well as he used to and gets bad mats on his rear end and tummy. He looks like a bedraggled old man. But this means that from time to time he gets a thorough dematting at the practiced hands of my mom - see picture below. Note his monstrous paws curled mid-knead and his eyes half-closed in bliss. Dematting is his favorite thing in the world. Next to laps. And moustaches.

 Here's to you, Walter! We love you! <3