Walter the Cat
Margaret sat alone in her small sparsely furnished apartment, the ticking of the clock on the wall the only sound. At 61, she felt the weight of her years pressing down on her. Loneliness had become a constant shadow, trailing her through the days and whispering to her in the nights. Her husband had left years earlier for a younger, slimmer woman, and her two grown children lived far away, busy with their own lives. Friends had drifted away over time, leaving her to a solitary existence.
Every morning, Margaret went through the same motions: making a cup of coffee, staring out the window and wondering how she had become so invisible. Her life felt like a gray haze, devoid of joy and purpose. The walls of her apartment seemed to close in on her a little more each day, and she often found herself sitting in silence, lost in memories of a life that seemed like it belonged to someone else.
One rainy afternoon, as she was returning from running errands, Margaret noticed a small, skinny, bedraggled cat huddled under a nearby bench. Its fur was matted, and it looked up at her with wide, pleading eyes. Despite her dislike of cats, something inside her stirred. She couldn’t just leave the poor creature there, drenched and shivering so she scooped up the cat and carried it inside.
Once inside, she dried the cat off with an old towel and set it up with an old blanket in a corner of her living room. She rummaged through her kitchen for something the cat could eat and found a can of tuna. As the cat devoured the meal, Margaret felt needed. It was the first time in a long while that she had done something that brought a bit of light into her life.
Days turned into weeks, and the little cat—whom Margaret decided to name Walter—settled into her home. Walter was a sweet-natured, affectionate cat who seemed to sense Margaret’s loneliness. He would curl up on her lap to watch tv or curl up and purr as she read a book. At night, he slept at the foot of her bed, a warm, comforting presence that chased away the shadows.
Margaret found herself talking to Walter, sharing her thoughts and feelings as if he could understand. In many ways, it felt like he did. He would look at her with those big, expressive eyes, and she felt less alone. Slowly, the heavy cloud that had hung over her began to lift. She found herself smiling more often, even laughing at Walter’s playful antics.
She bought a harness and leash for Walter and with the cat by her side, Margaret started to venture out more. She took walks to the nearby park stopping to look in the shop windows along the way. The pair became a familiar sight in the neighborhood, and people would stop to chat with her, admiring her charming feline companion. She began to feel a sense of community again, forming new friendships and rekindling old ones.
One crisp autumn day, Margaret sat on a park bench with Walter nestled in her lap, gazing at the vibrant colors of the changing leaves. She realized that she hadn’t felt this content in years. Walter had given her a reason to get up in the morning, a purpose that had been missing from her life. Simply caring for Walter, she had rediscovered the joy and beauty in the world around her.
Margaret looked down at Walter, who was purring softly, and felt a surge of gratitude. “Thank you, Walter, ” she whispered, gently stroking his fur. “Thank you for saving me.”
And in that moment, surrounded by the crisp air and the golden hues of autumn, Margaret Hartley knew she had found happiness once more.
©️Tlwhitaker2024
