by David D. Horowitz.
“Cats aren’t particularly friendly,” a friend of mine recently remarked to me. “Dogs,” she added, “are much more affectionate and trusting, so I love them more than cats.” I have heard many people over the years offer similar comments, and I, though a cat-lover, appreciate their view. Cats are infamously finicky—about people as well as kitty treats—and after a stressful workday or during a lonely evening many people understandably prefer the spontaneous, messy-licking love of a dog.
Yet, I hope people not fond of cats can better appreciate their history and understand their apparent aloofness. Many people know cats were worshiped as gods in Ancient Egypt, and there was even a cat-god: Bast. This fact is often cited humorously to explain feline snobbery. Fewer people know about the brutal mistreatment inflicted on cats during the Middle Ages. While historians disagree about the frequency and scope of the abuse, considerable evidence suggests cats were often condemned by misguided clerics and townsfolk as embodiments of promiscuity, witchcraft, and sneaky malevolence. Indeed, some European towns hosted festivals that involved the ritualistic beating of cats. Some celebrants set cats’ tails afire and left them to dash about until they died, or they burned cats alive in bonfires to the delighted amusement of assembled townspeople. Such “amusements” were popular well into the eighteenth century. Feline ability to kill rodents, especially during plague times, helped rehabilitate cats’ reputation, but many people still regarded them with suspicion and hostility.
And still some people are hostile to cats. Torture of cats is not rare. To be sure, cats themselves are known to kill birds and mice and voles—sometimes to be offered as doorstep gifts to owners. That does not justify cruelty to cats. Cat-torturing might help explain feline wariness towards people, though. Does some kind of collective feline memory—dating back to and including the worst cat-abuse of the Middle Ages—inform feline wariness? Are cats somehow aware of human abuses historically? It’s a stretch to interpret their wariness as arising from knowledge of specific historical events, but I can’t rule out the possibility cats are aware of human potential for senseless violence.
Perhaps, too, cats dream not only of killing mice or being fed treats, but of fostering human kindness. When a cat curls up next to an owner in bed at 3:00 a.m. or nestles beside an ailing owner on the living room sofa, the cat seems to act on a species-wide instinct to use healing power to help people. Such a show of feline affection often evokes human reciprocation of love—appreciative petting, an extra treat, and whispered gratitude for the show of purring support. In short, the cat can help make people around it kinder. Of course, the cat might be manipulating the owner to get fancy food or expensive treats, but I’ve heard many stories from cat owners suggesting their cat enjoys reciprocating affection and gratitude. A cat might take a while to warm up to a person, but once the cat does, fewer creatures are more loving. Cats are often catalysts for spreading delight and love—as are dogs. And, sometimes, as are people.