I can has Milk-Bone?

I was talking to someone on Facebook this evening when I heard a commotion in the kitchen. Ron was yelling at Walter to get out of something. Based on the scraping, rustling sounds, I assumed the charge against Walter would be vandalism, but he was actually engaging in an act of petty larceny:

This isn't the cookie you're looking for. You can go about your business. Move along.

Rat terrier in cat's clothing. (I see you in there, Scout....)

This is not the first time Walter has helped himself to a Milk-Bone. Probably won’t be the last, either. I’m not sure it’s ever occurred to him that he isn’t a dog.

He did revert to more appropriate feline behavior a few minutes later:

You're not gonna make me move, are you, Dad?

Of course, what you can’t see in the picture is the hole he chewed in that lid so he could remove it from the box.

I have become increasingly convinced that Walter is Scout’s last and greatest prank on Ron. When she ran out of rotten tricks to play on him, she went for the coup de grace of all practical jokes: She died and came back as the one species he claimed to hate more than any other.

Emily