The Day Walter Was Grumpy

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The Day Walter Was Grumpy
A Gentle Night Friends Story
From the notebook of Professor Pondo

I am awake during hours when most sensible creatures are asleep.

I have never claimed this makes me sensible.

Late one night at Woodmere, I was walking along the lake shore when I noticed Walter near where the geese and the goslings were sleeping.

Walter was not sleeping.

He stood some distance away from the geese, facing the woods.

Something had caught his attention.

I could not see what it was.

Walter could.

Or perhaps he could smell it.

After a while, he walked slowly along the edge of the grass and stopped again.

The moon moved across the sky.

Walter remained.

When I passed that way later, he was still there.

And later still.

By dawn, the geese and the goslings were safe.

Walter had been awake nearly all night.

This is how I came to know something that Oscar, Jimmy Joe, and Baxter did not.

Animals do not speak to me in human words. I watch them closely, and then I imagine the words that might belong to what I see.

So I opened my notebook.

And this is what I imagined.

Walter came into the house shortly after sunrise.

He drank a great deal of water.

He ate breakfast.

Then he walked into the living room and dropped heavily onto the floor with a great big sigh.

Usually Walter took some time choosing exactly where to lie down.

He might circle once.

Sometimes twice.

He might inspect the floor carefully with a good sniff as though another dog had recently filed a complaint about it.

Not that morning.

Walter lay down.

He closed his eyes.

Oscar came trotting into the room.

The little gray kitten saw Walter and immediately changed direction.

He approached with his tail up.

"Good morning, Walter."

Walter opened one eye.

Oscar stopped beside him.

Usually Walter's tail thumped when Oscar arrived.

It did not thump.

Oscar waited.

Walter closed his eye.

Oscar moved closer.

Walter's ears shifted.

He gave a long sigh.

Then he stood, walked across the room, and lay down beside a chair.

Oscar remained where he was.

His vivid green eyes followed Walter.

"What was that?"

Baxter was sitting on the windowsill.

The large Maine Coon had been washing one paw.

He stopped.

"What was what?"

"Walter moved."

"Walter moves fairly often."

"He moved away from me."

Baxter looked at Walter.

Walter had already closed his eyes.

"Yes."

Oscar looked down at himself.

Then he looked at Walter again.

"Why?"

Baxter resumed washing his paw.

"I don't know."

Oscar sat down.

There was an empty place where an answer should have been.

And Oscar began filling it with guilty thoughts.

Yesterday.

Something must have happened yesterday.

Oscar thought about breakfast.

Nothing.

He thought about the morning.

Nothing.

Then he remembered climbing onto Walter while Walter was asleep.

That might be it.

Or perhaps it was the tail.

Oscar had chased Walter's tail.

More than once.

There had also been the incident involving Walter's front paw.

Oscar had pounced on it.

It had seemed reasonable at the time.

Now he was less certain.

"Oh."

Baxter looked at him.

"I jumped on Walter yesterday."

"Yes."

"While he was sleeping."

"Yes."

"And I chased his tail."

"Yes."

"And I attacked his paw."

Baxter considered the word.

"You pounced on it."

Oscar looked toward Walter.

"Maybe he's angry with me."

"Maybe, one never knows about these things."

Oscar's ears lowered slightly.

Baxter's answer was not very comforting.

Oscar approached Walter again.

Walter heard him coming.

His eyes opened.

Oscar stopped.

Walter's head remained on the floor.

Oscar took another step.

Walter sighed.

He stood.

He walked out of the room.

Oscar stared after him.

A moment before, Walter's moving away had been something Oscar did not understand.

Now it seemed to fit.

Walter was grumpy.

And Walter was grumpy with Oscar.

Jimmy Joe arrived carrying a cloth mouse.

Jimmy Joe was a large golden tabby who believed he could improve many situations by becoming more involved in them.

He dropped the mouse.

"What's wrong?"

"Walter is angry with me."

Jimmy Joe looked toward the doorway.

"Why?"

"I jumped on him yesterday."

"I jump on Walter."

"I chased his tail."

"I chase Walter's tail."

"I pounced on his paw."

Jimmy Joe considered this.

"I do that too."

Oscar stared at him.

"Maybe he's angry with both of us."

Jimmy Joe's ears moved forward.

"What did I do?"

"You just said."

"Oh."

Jimmy Joe thought about it.

"No. I don't think that's it."

"Why?"

"Because I know Walter likes me."

Oscar's ears flattened.

Jimmy Joe immediately realized something had gone wrong.

"Walter likes you too."

"You just said he likes you."

"He does."

"So maybe he doesn't like me."

"No. That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

Jimmy Joe sat down.

He seemed to be searching for an answer somewhere on the ceiling.

Finally he looked at Oscar.

"Walter is just grumpy."

Oscar waited.

Jimmy Joe brightened.

"We should cheer him up."

Baxter looked over from the windowsill.

"Or not."

Jimmy Joe turned.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing."

Jimmy Joe picked up his mouse.

"I know what Walter needs."

Baxter returned to washing his paw.

"I was afraid of that."

They found Walter in the conservatory.

He had chosen a warm place on the floor behind a large planter.

Morning sunlight was beginning to come through the glass.

Walter lay on his side.

His eyes were closed.

His breathing was slow.

Jimmy Joe walked directly toward him.

Oscar followed more cautiously.

Baxter came last.

Jimmy Joe placed the cloth mouse in front of Walter's nose.

Walter opened his eyes.

He looked at the mouse.

He looked at Jimmy Joe.

He closed his eyes.

Jimmy Joe waited.

Nothing happened.

He pushed the mouse slightly closer.

Walter stood.

Jimmy Joe's tail rose.

"See?"

Walter walked to the other side of the conservatory and lay down again with a huge dog sigh.

Jimmy Joe watched him go.

"That was not the response I expected."

Oscar sat down.

"He really is angry."

Jimmy Joe looked at the mouse.

"The mouse may be too ordinary."

He disappeared through the doorway.

A moment later he returned with a ball.

Walter did not want the ball.

Jimmy Joe brought another ball.

Walter did not want that ball either.

Jimmy Joe studied Walter.

Then he disappeared again.

He was gone considerably longer this time.

Oscar looked toward the doorway.

"What is he doing?"

"I don't know," Baxter said.

A scraping sound came from the hall.

Then a thump.

Then more scraping.

Jimmy Joe appeared in the doorway, walking backward.

He had Walter's rope toy clenched in his teeth.

The rope was longer than Jimmy Joe.

He dragged it slowly across the floor with the determined expression of a lion hauling home a particularly difficult kill.

Jimmy Joe pulled.

The rope followed.

He pulled again.

The rope caught on the doorway.

Jimmy Joe braced his paws and pulled harder.

The rope came free.

At last he reached Walter.

Jimmy Joe dropped it in front of him and stood over his prize.

Walter opened one eye.

He looked at the rope.

He looked at Jimmy Joe.

Then he closed his eye again.

Jimmy Joe stared at him.

"This is serious."

Oscar was becoming more worried.

"Maybe we should leave him alone."

Jimmy Joe looked surprised.

"When someone is grumpy?"

"Maybe."

"No. If someone is grumpy, you make them not grumpy."

Baxter had settled near the glass.

He looked at Walter.

"Oh, do you now?"

Jimmy Joe turned toward him.

"Of course."

"Why?"

Jimmy Joe seemed puzzled by the question.

"Because then they aren't grumpy."

Baxter closed his eyes.

Jimmy Joe looked at Oscar.

"I think Walter needs excitement."

Baxter's eyes opened again.

"No."

But Jimmy Joe was already running.

He raced across the conservatory.

Around a chair.

Behind a planter.

Across the rug.

Back around the chair.

Past Walter.

Then he did it again.

Oscar watched.

"What is he doing?"

Baxter watched Jimmy Joe make another circuit.

"I believe he is providing excitement."

Jimmy Joe raced past Walter once more.

Walter lifted his head.

Jimmy Joe stopped.

"There."

Walter stood.

Jimmy Joe looked delighted.

Walter walked out of the conservatory.

Jimmy Joe's tail lowered.

"That didn't work."

Oscar watched Walter disappear.

"It made him leave."

For a few moments, the three cats were quiet.

Then Oscar said, "He must be really angry with us."

Jimmy Joe sat beside him.

"Maybe."

Baxter looked toward the doorway.

"He just looks tired to me."

Oscar turned.

"But he keeps leaving."

"Yes."

"When we go near him."

"Yes."

"So he's angry."

Baxter looked at Oscar for a moment.

"Maybe."

Oscar waited.

Baxter said nothing more.

That was one of Baxter's habits.

He sometimes left a thought lying around where someone might discover it later.

Walter eventually returned to the conservatory.

This time the cats did not immediately approach.

Walter found another patch of sunlight.

He turned once and lay down.

Within moments, his eyes were closed.

Oscar watched him.

Jimmy Joe watched him.

Baxter watched him.

For nearly five minutes, nobody did anything.

Walter slept.

Then Harriet Honkins appeared outside the conservatory.

Four young geese followed her across the lawn.

Anthony walked behind them.

Walter's eyes opened.

His head came up.

His ears turned toward the windows.

He watched the geese.

His tail thumped once against the floor.

Oscar noticed.

Walter remained alert until the Honkins family disappeared beyond the hedge.

Then his head lowered again.

His eyes closed.

Oscar looked at Baxter.

"He's not grumpy with them."

"No."

Oscar looked troubled.

"Then maybe it really is us."

Baxter stretched his front legs.

"Maybe."

Oscar stared at him.

"You keep saying maybe."

"Yes."

"Do you think Walter is angry with us?"

"I think Walter is tired."

"But why?"

Baxter settled again.

"I don't know."

Oscar looked at Walter.

There it was again.

Something nobody knew.

And once there was an empty place where an answer should be, Oscar found it very difficult not to put something there.

Baxter seemed perfectly willing to leave it empty.

By late morning, I was sitting in the conservatory.

It was a pleasant place to work.

I had my notebook, a cup of tea, and several pages of something I had intended to organize.

I have discovered that intending to organize papers and actually organizing papers are quite different activities.

Walter was sleeping.

The three cats were watching him.

Oscar approached.

Walter opened his eyes.

Oscar stopped.

Walter closed them again.

Oscar backed away.

Jimmy Joe looked at the enormous rope toy he had worked so hard to bring into the conservatory.

Then he looked at Walter.

He left it where it was.

This interested me.

Jimmy Joe appeared to be learning something.

I went back to my notebook.

A few minutes later, I looked up again.

Oscar was still watching Walter.

I have always suspected that the animals at Woodmere understand more human speech than they let on.

I cannot prove this.

Cats, in particular, are not known for helping with experiments designed to determine what cats know.

Still, there are times when I talk to them.

Perhaps they understand.

Perhaps they understand the tone.

Perhaps they simply notice what happens next.

I said, "Oscar, are you worrying about Walter?"

Oscar looked toward me.

That proved nothing.

Animals look toward sounds.

I continued anyway.

"Walter was awake almost all night."

Jimmy Joe's ears turned toward me.

Baxter raised his head.

"Walter was watching over Anthony and Harriet and the new goslings. Something was moving in the woods, and Walter decided he should stay with them."

Oscar looked at Walter.

"He didn't get much sleep at all."

Walter opened one eye when he heard his name.

Then he closed it.

"So perhaps," I said, "Walter is simply very tired."

Walter heaved a great big dog sigh.

It seemed to say, "Yes, I am."

Then he settled his head more deeply against the floor and closed his eyes.

I returned to my notebook.

I did not know what the cats understood.

But the conservatory became very quiet.

Oscar remained where he was.

He looked at Walter.

Then at the windows.

Then back at Walter.

The same morning was still there.

Walter had not thumped his tail when Oscar first approached.

Walter had moved away from him.

Walter had left when Jimmy Joe tried to play.

None of those things had changed.

And yet they did not seem quite the same.

Oscar knew something now that he had not known before.

Walter had been awake all night.

He looked down at his paws.

"I thought it was me."

Jimmy Joe sat beside him.

"I thought he needed cheering up."

Baxter's tail moved slowly across the floor.

"I thought he was just tired."

Jimmy Joe looked at him.

"You were right."

Baxter looked at Walter.

"I didn't know why."

Oscar remained still.

"I was sure he was angry with me."

No one answered.

Walter slept.

Oscar looked at him for a while.

Then he walked toward him.

He stopped several feet away.

Walter did not move.

Oscar sat down.

He waited.

Walter's breathing remained slow and deep.

Oscar lay down where he was.

Jimmy Joe looked at Walter's rope toy.

Then he looked at Walter.

He left the rope alone.

He settled beside Baxter.

Sunlight moved slowly across the conservatory floor.

Outside, a breeze stirred the leaves.

Somewhere near the lake, a goose called.

Walter's ear moved.

Nothing more.

He slept.

A long time later, Walter stretched.

One front leg reached forward.

Then the other.

His back lengthened.

His tail moved across the floor.

His eyes opened.

Oscar lifted his head.

He did not approach.

Walter looked at him.

His tail thumped.

Once.

Then again.

Oscar stood.

He walked slowly toward Walter.

Walter stayed where he was.

Oscar came closer.

Walter lifted his head and touched his nose briefly to Oscar's side.

Oscar's body relaxed.

He curled beside Walter's front legs.

Jimmy Joe watched.

For a moment, he looked toward the rope toy.

Then he looked back at Walter.

He left the rope exactly where it was.

He settled nearby.

Baxter stretched out beside him.

Walter lowered his head.

Oscar rested against him.

Soon Walter's eyes were closed again.

That evening Walter was much more like himself.

He ate his supper.

He wandered through the kitchen.

He followed Oscar into the conservatory.

Then Walter noticed the rope toy Jimmy Joe had dragged into the conservatory that morning.

He picked it up.

Jimmy Joe stopped.

Walter planted his front paws.

Then he gave the rope a tremendous shake.

One end whipped through the air.

Jimmy Joe jumped backward.

Walter shook it again.

The rope slapped the floor.

Oscar darted behind a chair.

Walter gave it one more tremendous shake.

Then he carried the rope onto the rug.

He lay down, pinned it between his front paws, and began chewing it contentedly.

Jimmy Joe watched him.

His tail rose.

"I knew the rope was a good idea."

Baxter looked at him.

He said nothing.

Oscar came out from behind the chair.

Walter's tail moved across the floor.

Oscar watched it.

He crouched.

Then he stopped.

For just a moment, he looked at Walter.

Walter's tail thumped.

Oscar pounced.

Later, when Walter lay down, Oscar did not immediately climb onto him.

He waited nearby.

Walter looked at him.

His tail moved.

Oscar came closer.

I noticed that.

Sometimes we see something clearly.

A look.

A silence.

Someone moving away.

Someone not behaving the way we expected.

And then there are the parts we cannot see.

It can be surprisingly easy to fill those parts in.

Oscar had been certain about Walter that morning.

Jimmy Joe had been certain too.

Baxter had noticed something different.

And Baxter had also been willing to say, "I don't know."

The morning had not changed.

Walter had been quiet.

Walter had moved away.

Walter had not wanted to play.

But once Oscar knew something he had not known before, the same things could mean something different.

By bedtime, Walter was asleep again.

Oscar was curled against his chest.

Jimmy Joe slept nearby.

Baxter had claimed the chair.

Outside, Anthony and Harriet rested with their young geese near the lake.

The house was quiet.

The grounds were quiet.

Walter's breathing was slow and deep.

There was nothing the cats needed to figure out now.

Nothing they needed to fix.

And for tonight, there was nothing Walter needed to guard.

Good night then.

—Professor Pondo

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