He knows

I’ve never seen Wally behave the way he did yesterday. You recall that on Tuesday night he broke our mid-century Harlequin butter dish. We both got up to deal with the mess and didn’t say a word to him, mostly because we were too focused on the loss of that dish. Normally if Wally gets on the counter or something, we’ll sort of holler at him (Get down! No!—that kind of stuff), but we didn’t Tuesday night. In fact we barely caught a glimpse of him while we were picking up the pieces; he was pretty clearly hiding from us.

That behavior lasted most of the day. He was skittish, and amped up and racing around the apartment but carefully avoiding me. At one point I picked him up and he was literally quivering. So somewhere in his kitty brain, I think he knew he screwed up royally.

Yesterday afternoon I made a point of loving on him periodically, and last night he was a little less rowdy. Unfortunately he’s learned how to open the brand-new Velcro ties we just got on Monday so he banged the cabinet doors open again last night starting around 4AM. As a friend of mine said, it’s like we have a furry toddler. I’m just glad he doesn’t poop his pants.

My mother did some online scouting for our dish and found at least one that either was still for sale or had been recently. That gave us both hope that maybe we can replace the dish after all.