Chapter 1: Cats of the Past
Of course, alongside history, there are plenty of myths and legends about how cats came to be. One of the more entertaining stories comes from an old Arabian tale. According to the legend, when Noah gathered animals onto the Ark, people worried about having a lion on board. To calm things down, Noah prayed—and the lion was struck with a fever, making it harmless. But another problem quickly appeared: mice began destroying food and supplies. Once again, Noah prayed for help. This time, the lion sneezed—and out came a cat. From that moment on, the mice kept their distance, and the balance was restored.
It’s a playful story, but it reflects something true: cats have long been valued for their ability to keep pests in check. Whether through myth or history, they’ve earned their place alongside humans for thousands of years.
That’s the legend, but cats also show up in early art and history in interesting ways. In one old Italian painting of Noah’s Ark, a large striped cat is shown confidently leading the animals, as if it knows exactly where it belongs.
Curiously, cats don’t appear in the Bible at all—neither in the Old nor New Testament. This is especially surprising given how important they were in nearby cultures like ancient Egypt.
Because in Egypt, cats weren’t just pets—they were revered. Over 3,000 years ago, along the Nile, cats were loved, protected, and even worshipped. They were considered sacred animals, honored in temples, and adorned with jewelry like earrings and necklaces. Cat figures were kept in homes and placed in tombs, and people wore cat-shaped charms as a sign of devotion.
Most of these early cats appear to have been striped—similar to modern tabbies. Egyptian art is known for its accuracy, so it’s likely they depicted the cats they actually knew.
Animal worship was a major part of Egyptian life, with creatures like bulls, crocodiles, and birds all holding symbolic importance. But cats seemed to hold a special place above the rest. They were not only protected in life but deeply mourned in death. Families would even shave their eyebrows as a sign of grief.
Cats were also mummified, just like humans. For the wealthy, this process could be elaborate, preserving the animal carefully for the afterlife.
All of this makes one thing clear: While the true origin of cats may be uncertain, their bond with humans—especially in ancient Egypt—has been strong for thousands of years.
The way ancient Egyptians treated their cats—even in death—shows just how deeply they were valued.
Cat mummies were carefully wrapped in fine linen, often in intricate patterns that formed decorative designs. The head was shaped with care, sometimes even gilded, with the ears clearly defined. Some of these mummies look almost like woven works of art—more like carefully packaged treasures than remains.
In some cases, the mummified cat was placed inside a bronze container topped with a seated cat figure. Others were laid in wooden coffins with painted faces. Archaeologists have found these across Egypt—in places like Bubastis and Thebes—and many museums today still display them.
What stands out most is the attention to detail. Even tiny kittens were wrapped with incredible precision, their features still visible beneath delicate layers of linen. It’s clear these animals weren’t treated casually—they were honored.
Most cats were eventually buried in Bubastis, a sacred city dedicated to feline worship. According to ancient accounts, its temple was one of the most beautiful in Egypt. The city’s goddess, Pasht (often called Bastet), was depicted as a woman with a cat’s head, symbolizing protection, grace, and power.
Cats lived in these temples and were treated with great care—likely enjoying a life of comfort before being buried with ceremony and respect.
Each year, a massive festival was held in honor of Pasht. Thousands of people traveled along the Nile to attend, celebrating with music, dancing, and feasting. Boats filled the river, with people playing instruments and enjoying the journey as much as the destination.
We don’t know exactly how the cats fit into these celebrations—but given their status, it’s safe to assume they were treated like royalty, even on festival days.
Some traditions connected to the ancient reverence for cats lasted far longer than you might expect. Until relatively recent times, Egyptian pilgrims traveling to Mecca would sometimes bring cats along for the journey. One camel might be set aside just for them, cared for by a designated attendant—often honored with the title “Mother of Cats.” Later, this responsibility was sometimes given to a man, likely because managing a group of cats on a long journey wasn’t exactly easy.
Archaeological discoveries have also revealed just how widespread cat burial once was. Near places like Thebes and Beni Hasan, thousands of mummified cats were found—resting undisturbed for centuries until excavation. Unfortunately, many of these burial sites were later looted, and large quantities of mummified remains were removed and even repurposed in ways that feel shocking today.
Cats weren’t just sacred—they were also symbolic. Ancient writers noted how a cat’s eyes change with the light, leading some to connect them with the sun. Others associated cats with the moon, linking them to mystery and cycles of time. These ideas reinforced their place in religious life, where they represented forces far beyond the everyday.
There’s even artwork showing cats in surprisingly practical roles—like retrieving game—hinting that alongside their sacred status, they were also valued companions in daily life.
All of this shows how deeply cats were woven into both the spiritual and practical worlds of ancient Egypt—respected, useful, and surrounded by meaning in ways that still feel remarkable today.
All of this paints a vivid picture: in ancient Egypt, cats weren’t just animals—they were sacred companions, deeply woven into both daily life and spiritual belief.
Ancient writers had all kinds of ideas about cats—some surprisingly observant, others… a bit imaginative.
One belief linked cats to the moon. Because they’re active at night and their eyes seem to change with the light, people thought they were connected to lunar cycles. Some even claimed cats gave birth in patterns that matched the days of the month—clearly more myth than science, but it shows how closely people watched them.
What is well supported, though, is that cats were active partners in daily life. In ancient Egyptian hunting scenes, cats are shown retrieving birds from marshes—jumping into the water and bringing back game. These weren’t just sacred animals lounging in temples; they were trained, useful companions.
We even know what Egyptians may have called them: names like Mau or Maau appear in ancient inscriptions—simple, almost echoing the sound of a cat’s meow.
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| An Egyptian toy cat at the British Museum |
Artifacts give us a more personal glimpse, too. Some show cats wearing collars marked with symbolic designs, while others include surprisingly lifelike toys, like wooden cats with glass eyes and movable jaws. It’s a reminder that cats weren’t just worshipped—they were part of everyday life, play, and companionship.
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| A group of cats in pottery at the British Museum |
Altogether, these stories, objects, and artworks paint a rich picture: cats in ancient Egypt were admired, mythologized, and genuinely lived alongside people—not so different from today, just with a bit more divine status.
There are plenty of stories showing just how seriously ancient cultures took their cats—sometimes to surprising extremes.
One famous tale involves the Persian king Cambyses, who supposedly used cats as a kind of shield during a battle in Egypt. Knowing the Egyptians wouldn’t risk harming a sacred animal, his soldiers carried cats into combat. Whether fully true or not, the story captures how deeply cats were respected—so much so that they could influence the outcome of a fight.
Outside Egypt, cats appear in other early cultures too. Ancient Indian stories suggest they were domesticated there very early on. In China, they seem to have arrived around 400 A.D., and there’s an old saying that sums up their value perfectly: “A lame cat is better than a swift horse when rats are in the palace.”
Interestingly, cats didn’t hold the same status everywhere. In ancient Greece and Rome, they were somewhat overlooked. Homer never even mentions them, and they rarely appear in Greek art. Still, they weren’t entirely ignored—cats were linked to the goddess Diana, and Roman soldiers sometimes used their image on shields and banners. Archaeological finds, like mosaics in Naples, show that cats were known and appreciated, even if not worshipped like in Egypt.
As for Europe, cats didn’t become common household animals until much later. In places like Britain and France, they were still rare and valuable as late as the 9th century. Laws even set prices for them—proof that they were prized possessions, not everyday pets.
Taken together, these stories show how cats gradually spread across the world—sometimes sacred, sometimes practical, sometimes overlooked—but always quietly earning their place alongside humans.
In early Britain, cats weren’t just useful—they were valuable enough to be protected by law. One old rule stated that anyone who stole or killed a cat guarding a prince’s grain store had to pay a hefty fine—either livestock or a quantity of wheat measured in a rather creative way. It might sound strange now, but it shows just how important cats were for protecting food supplies.
That value also suggests something else: cats weren’t originally native to these islands. If they had been common, they wouldn’t have been so prized or carefully regulated. Instead, they were likely introduced and gradually became more widespread.
Wild cats, however, were native—and they were a very different creature. Much larger and more powerful than domestic cats, they were described as fierce animals with thick tails, strong builds, and “tremendous” claws and teeth. Early writers even called them the “British tiger.” These wild cats once roamed across England, Scotland, and Wales, especially in forests and mountainous areas, though they’ve since become extremely rare.
In earlier centuries, wild cats were hunted, and their fur was used for clothing—especially for trimming garments. Records suggest that cat skins were considered about as valuable as lamb skins at the time, which says a lot about how people viewed them.
Even into the 19th century, wild cats were still being found in parts of Scotland. Specimens were occasionally captured or displayed, and reports describe animals trapped in remote areas like the Highlands.
Over time, though, people began to better understand the difference between wild and domestic cats. Earlier writers often used the word “cat” loosely, applying it to a range of animals—including creatures like martens or civets. This led to confusion about where domestic cats actually came from.
What becomes clear through all this is that domestic cats weren’t simply tamed versions of local wild cats. Their story is more complex—shaped by travel, trade, and human need—until they eventually became the familiar companions we know today.
As cats spread across Europe, people slowly began to understand that domestic cats weren’t just tamed versions of local wild ones. Naturalists pointed out clear differences between the two, and even noted distinct varieties—like the so-called “Cypress cat” mentioned in early British writings.
In Ireland, for example, what people often called a “wild cat” turned out to be something else entirely—a marten, not a true feline. It’s a good reminder that for centuries, people used the word cat pretty loosely.
Some of the stranger stories from history involve how cats were used—or misused—in wartime. One medieval tale describes enemies trying to set fire to a fortress by attaching burning materials to animals like pigeons and cats, hoping they’d carry the flames inside. Whether this actually happened or not, it shows the kinds of desperate and imaginative tactics people believed in.
But perhaps the biggest shift in how cats were viewed came during the Middle Ages. In ancient Egypt, they were sacred. In medieval Europe, they were often feared.
Cats—especially black ones—became associated with superstition and the supernatural. People believed they were linked to witches or even the devil. In some cases, they were used in bizarre “cures” or cruel rituals. During witch trials, cats were often seen as companions of the accused, and many suffered because of these beliefs.
There were even extreme and disturbing customs tied to superstition—people thought harming a cat might bring luck or reveal the future. These ideas spread widely during a time when fear and misunderstanding shaped much of everyday life.
Amid all that, one friendlier story stood out: the legend of Dick Whittington and his cat. According to tradition, his fortune was made thanks to his clever feline companion. Whether true or not, the story helped preserve a more positive image of cats during a darker period.
Eventually, attitudes began to shift again. But this era shows just how dramatically the reputation of cats has changed over time—from sacred beings, to feared creatures, and back again to the companions we know today.
The treatment of cats in parts of medieval Europe could be shockingly cruel. In some cases, they were mocked, tortured, or even killed in public spectacles tied to superstition or religious conflict. Records describe disturbing events—cats being dressed up, paraded, or burned alongside effigies or condemned individuals. It’s hard to understand how such cruelty became normalized, but it reflects the fear and ignorance that shaped that era.
Cats were often caught up in the hysteria around witchcraft. They were seen as companions of witches or symbols of evil, and many suffered because of these beliefs. Looking back, it’s a dark chapter—not just for cats, but for human behavior in general.
There were, however, a few safer places. Nuns in convents often kept cats, treating them kindly. This may even be where the stereotype linking cats with solitary women first began—though in reality, it simply reflects that cats found refuge where compassion still existed.
Thankfully, attitudes didn’t stay that way. Over time, cats regained their place as valued companions—especially in places like France, where they once again became part of refined society and domestic life.
Some of history’s most notable figures were fond of cats. Cardinal Richelieu famously kept several and enjoyed watching them play. There’s also a well-known story about Muhammad, who is said to have cut off part of his robe rather than disturb his sleeping cat, Muezza—a story often told to highlight kindness toward animals.
Writers like François-René de Chateaubriand also mentioned cats with affection, and they appeared frequently in the homes of European nobility. Some were even honored after death, with memorials and tombs—showing just how far their reputation had recovered.
This shift marks an important turning point. After centuries of fear and superstition, cats slowly returned to what they had always been at their best: companions, confidants, and quietly dignified members of the household.
Victor Hugo cherished a cat named Chanome, while Théophile Gautier allowed his cat to share not only his bed but his meals. Petrarch loved his cat with a devotion rivaling that which he felt for his beloved Laura.
Samuel Johnson famously spoiled his cat Hodge, even going out personally to purchase oysters for him. Philip Stanhope, 4th Earl of Chesterfield went so far as to provide for his cat in his will. And though Sir Walter Scott was known for his fondness for dogs, he nevertheless delighted in the companionship of what he called a “conversable cat.” His own cat, Hime of Hunsefield, held a special place in his affection, and upon its death he mourned deeply, likening the loss to that of a dear friend.
Among French writers, Alexandre Dumas speaks fondly in his Memoirs of a cat known as “Le Docteur.” English poets, too—William Cowper, Percy Bysshe Shelley, William Wordsworth, Algernon Charles Swinburne, and Matthew Arnold—have all written with affection about cats.
Yet not all literary giants were so kindly disposed. William Shakespeare, despite mentioning cats no fewer than forty-four times in his works, never offers them a kind word. In All’s Well That Ends Well, Bertram exclaims his dislike; in Cymbeline, cats are grouped among “vile creatures”; and in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Lysander dismisses one as a “vile thing.” Even Romeo, in his passion, lumps cats among the most insignificant of creatures. From these examples, it is clear that cats held little favor with the great bard.
Dante Alighieri makes only a single mention of cats, comparing demons tormenting sinners to vicious felines clawing at their prey. His line—“Among wicked cats the mouse had come”—casts them in a grim, infernal light.
Not only poets and philosophers, but men of science and medicine have shared this fondness. Robert Liston, a leading surgeon of his day, adored his cat and would proudly present it to guests at his dinner table. On one memorable occasion, when a fellow physician struck the animal, Liston reacted with immediate and furious indignation.
Jeremy Bentham, too, treated his cats as individuals of importance, introducing them by name to visitors. Beyond this, he stands out for having articulated, more clearly than most of his contemporaries, the moral responsibility humans bear toward animals.
The cat, long regarded as an emblem of independence and liberty, has found its place not only in the home but also in heraldry, art, and everyday life. From banners and shields to shop signs and popular sayings, its image has carried meanings of courage, mystery, and self-reliance.
As early as the sixteenth century, a Venetian printing firm known as Sessa Press adopted the device of a cat surrounded by ornamental design. The bibliophile Thomas Frognall Dibdin later remarked that wherever the Sessa cat appeared, one might be assured of a book worth reading.
The association of cats with strength and valor stretches even further back. The Romans are said to have borne the image of the cat upon their banners, and throughout Europe the animal became a favored symbol among noble families. The wife of Clovis I, Clotilde, bore a cat upon her armorial shield, depicted in pursuit of a rat. Similarly, the Scottish Clan Chattan adopted the fierce wildcat as its emblem, along with the memorable warning: “Touch not the cat but a glove,” a phrase implying that the animal must not be handled without protection.
In England, too, the cat appeared frequently on inn signs. One of the most enduring examples is “The Cat and the Fiddle,” later transformed through English ears into the familiar phrase from a nursery rhyme.
The cat’s presence in literature and imagination is equally enduring. Cheshire Cat, from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, captures perfectly the animal’s mysterious and elusive nature—appearing and disappearing at will, smiling with quiet mischief.
Superstitions and Folklore
Alongside admiration, however, the cat has long been surrounded by superstition and myth.
In earlier centuries, nearly every movement of a cat was thought to carry meaning—either as a sign of good fortune or of impending misfortune. Old beliefs included:
That a cat might “steal a child’s breath” if left alone in a room
That a cat would refuse to remain in a house where a body lay unburied
That its behavior could foretell weather, illness, or death.
Some of these ideas, though strange to modern ears, reveal how closely people once observed animals and wove them into their understanding of the world.
we now turn to the subject of modern cats and the organized world that has grown up around them.
Today’s cat clubs, societies, and institutions stand as proof of the remarkable progress made in what is known as the “cat fancy.” Their existence would once have seemed improbable—if not absurd.
It is worth remembering how modest, even doubtful, these beginnings were. When Weir set out for the first great cat exhibition—held at Crystal Palace Cat Show 1871—he was met not with admiration, but with amusement. A fellow railway passenger reportedly laughed outright at the idea, finding it difficult to believe that anyone would take cats seriously enough to exhibit them.
And yet, from that moment of skepticism sprang an entire movement.
What was once dismissed as a novelty has grown into a structured and passionate pursuit, bringing together breeders, exhibitors, and admirers from all walks of life. The cat, once overlooked or misunderstood, has steadily claimed its place—not only in the home, but also in the halls of recognition.
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