The Cat Came Back: A More Than Mythical History of Our Feline Friends
Cats have been on the human scene for 9,000 years. We came out of the caves, and they were there with us. Ever since, cats have been immortalized in art. They have been painted in fresco, sculpted in stone, carved in wood, cast in silver, and plated in gold and warped in words.
Felines have been mummified, petrified, and in modern times, transmogrified into cells of film, newsprint, and popular literature. Cats have been morphed into stuffed toys and have strutted the world’s stage mewing of their magnificence. Our love of all things feline seems to have grown over the centuries; so much so that we’ve given cats innumerable names— Katt, Kit, Mau, Maow, Pusa, Pascht, Puss, just to name a few.
One might ask, why do cats have such grand cultural coverage? After all, we’re talking about a small, unobtrusive animal with four legs and a slender tail. A little pet who got aboard the Ark by being an itch in a lion’s nose…but that’s another story.
Feline Mythology Around the World
Basically, it just doesn’t seem possible that so much mythos could be packed into so modest an animal. Yet such is the large truth of the small, domestic cat. Its mythology has increased its natural size to unnatural proportions. Let’s find out why.
In Egypt, some 5,000 years ago, the cat was a creature of duality. Lion-headed and moon-eyed, it was already a dualistic deity, already an animal whose aspect corresponded to lunar cycles of order and disorder, harmony and imbalance. Here was a graceful animal whose eye was a miniature moon, whose sense of balance was godlike and supreme.
Iroquois myths from North America tell of Old Woman Moon and her companion, Bobcat. While she weaves a head strap, symbolic of the moon’s shape, Bobcat sits patiently beside her. Then, when she gets up to stir a pot of hominy on the fire, Bobcat pounces on Old Woman Moon’s head strap, and unravels it. So, storytellers say, the cat undoes the moon, forcing it to change from full to famished, once every month. The moon cycle and the human female cycle are closely related in this myth.
In Inca cosmology of South America, there is an inner earth called the Moon House. Inside lives a great puma or cougar. Early Andean people viewed this creature as a sun lord who nibbled at the moon, causing it to go from full to crescent. It is interesting that the word puma in Quechua comes originally from Incan culture. The word cougar comes from the English adaptation of the Guarani word guacuara. Some Amerindian tribes believed that the great cat sits at the top of the heavens. Is this the same Leo that we see on a bright winter's night?
The American Indian revered the big cat of the woods by calling it “Soft-Foot Brother.” As such the cat was celebrated in art, beadwork, weaving and song. The tribal huntsman saw in the secretive cat an artful tracker, a clever seeker of prey.
In European culture cats were also important in the early lore of earth-centered, tribal societies. Long before the Spanish Inquisition of the 14th century, cat cults thrived in France, Germany and the British Isles. A thousand years after the death of Cleopatra, women of the Rhine met in secret groves and prayed to cats for fertility, love, and luck.
In Scandinavia and Germany, Freya was the cat goddess from whom we inherited the word Friday. A team of whiskered cats drew Freya's chariot across the heavens. As goddess Freya spread the gospel of love in Italy and France and when twilight finally settled on the gods of old, Freya attended the funeral of Baldur, the cat god of youth. After the rites of deathly passage, Freya carried Baldur into Valhalla.
In Scotland cats have always been sacred. Fergus, the first king of Scotland, had Egyptian blood. The legend states that his family carried Egyptian cats to the Scottish Highlands. Fergus’ cat-bearing ancestor, Scota, conferred her name to that country. In addition, Scotland’s motto and crest still contain a cat. The cat, in Scotland, was both animal and warrior. Men went into battle wearing cat masks and the crests of Clan Cattan. Even the wails of the bagpipe, legend says, came from fighting cats.
When the Romans first came to the Netherlands, they found a tribe of "Cat People" living at the mouth of the Rhine. Their town Cat Vicense is on old maps, and in the 1950s was still called Katwyk or Cattown.
Masters of the Weather
In various parts of the world, from Great Britain to the Pacific Rim, in ancient and modern times, cats were believed to control the weather. In the 19th century maritime insurance companies would not insure cargo without a cat-in-residence.
In 17th century England, superstitious sailors put a tortoiseshell cat in an iron pot. There the cat was confined until the thunder stopped. The tale of the ship’s cat that saves the day is common. A very old legend indeed. World vocabulary is rife with sea coast cat magic.
For example, remember the catboat? The catamaran that rights itself in a stormy sea is founded on the feline ability to land upright. In Italian, the term gatta marina refers to a boat that rights itself in rough surf. There is also the tackle, or pulleys, used to suspend the anchor to the so-called “cat’s head” of the ship.
The Dark Side
With all of these reverential, cultural thoughts about cats, one must also acknowledge the dark side of their mythology. As creatures of duality —from the very first wink of human cat-fascination— there has been this not-so-cute, noir-side of cats.
Saint Patrick, as we know, banned the cat from Ireland but he was not the first to do this. During the Inquisition cats were anything but popular. They were burned along with their familiars, witches. The poor animal and the hapless witch went the way of fire.
So what did cat fanciers do during the next three hundred years? They re-created the cat, using their overactive imagination.
Thus make-believe felines have many names—Kabouterje, Colfy, and Goblin being just a few. These are were-animals, changelings that have a sort of human and feline identity.
In certain Nordic myths, Goblin was a clever little man, who could also change into a cat. Arguably, not a cat at all but rather an ugly little person who lived in barns, water wells, gardens, and caves. Yes, and even attics or lofts—the little humanoid troll cat took residence.
Historically, the goblin still lives in literature and has oh-so-many names. The Dutch call the wily creature Kabouterje. The French, Gobelin. The Germans, Kobald. The Russians, Colfy. The Welsh, Coblyn. The English, Goblin.
The Cat Came Back
In time, the red fires of the Inquisition cooled and the cat came back, as the old folksong says; The real cat, that is. It was now time for Goblin, the stand-in, to leave. And who should usher him out? None other than his feline counterpart, Cat.
In the Scandinavian countries, the cat of choice that guarded the house and chased away goblins was the Buttercat, known as smierragatto. He watched over bread, butter, milk and cheese. Its favorite place to sleep was by the stove. In Finland, the buttercat lived in the rafters and brought good luck to all who showed respect. In return this utilitarian cat did household chores.
Keep in mind, this was a real flesh and blood feline, but it was imbued with the magical trappings of myth. When erecting a new house, the Finnish builder always made sure to bring along a shovel of ashes—a gift for the buttercat. As everyone knows, cats like to leave their remains in ashes.
While the concept of the good kitchen cat grew and spread throughout Europe, Goblin, once a good-natured guy, turned short-tempered. There were thus many tales of the good buttercat versus the bad goblin.
Nine Lives
In France the buttercat was known as matagot. This was the magical cat of the Midi that brought good luck to all who fed him. On the peninsula of Brittany in the northwest of France, this providential feline wasn’t called buttercat but rather moneycat. Nine-lived, this cat served nine owners at one time.
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The significance of good luck and the number nine is not incidental. The earliest mention refers to Muhammad and his cat Muezzin. One day while Muezzin slept on Muhammad’s sleeve, the prophet rose to leave, and rather than wake Muezza, he cut off his sleeve. After this he stroked Muezza three times down the length of his back. This myth explains why cats always land on their feet when they fall—the result of Muhammad’s original blessing. Mythologists also say that the story implies that three times three is nine—thus, nine lives. Muhammad’s severed sleeve became the gift of longevity to all cats.
The long-lived, sacred cat is yet another universal myth. The Japanese temple cat, sometimes called the kimono cat, has a dark spot—this is the obi, or tie of the kimono. Long ago such cats were brought to monasteries and deposited there for sake-keeping. The kindly tradition continues in Japan, regardless of cat colors or features.
In terms of breed, the prototypical kimono cat was the Japanese bobtail. When the cat’s colors were black, red and white, the cat was good luck-- mi-ke, meaning three color. In Japanese painting, sculpture and luck charms, the mi-ke cat (a tortoiseshell) sits straight with paw upraised in a generous gesture of goodwill.
In mythology and in life, all things come to a close, but perhaps not to a finish. So as we close here, we might take a last look at that most restful image—the sleeping cat. Like the earth, the feline’s graceful lines flow from the tip of its nose to the tip of its tail. In sumi, Japanese wet brush paintings, the curled cat is a single line representing the circular sea, the round moon, the entire universe, in repose.
Top Image: Deriv; Sarcophagus of Prince Thutmose's cat, Ta-miu (CC BY 2.0) and Beware the Cat (Flickr/CC BY 2.0).
Gerald & Loretta Hausman have authored many books about animals in mythology including The Metaphysical Cat.
Top Image: Deriv; Sarcophagus of Prince Thutmose's cat, Ta-miu (CC BY 2.0) and Bou Inania Cats in Morroco. (CC BY-NC 2.0)
The best animal. Simple.
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