The Mythical Ball-Tailed Cat of North America

 Our subject today is the mythical North American feline known as the ball-tailed cat (Felis caudaglobosa—and no, we’re not entirely sure why a fictional creature has a scientific name or who so named it). The ball-tailed cat was a sort of wildcat similar to a mountain lion, only with a “hardy heavy, bony ball on the end of its tail” (Tryon, p. 7). We haven’t been able to find out the original range of this feline, but woodsmen around the turn of the 20th century traded tales of the creature, so we deduce that it lived primarily in wooded areas. Henry Harrington Tryon wrote in the 1930s that

recent surveys indicate that it is now pretty well confined to Harney County, Oregon, and Sullivan County, Pennsylvania. (p. 7)

The cat had a unique hunting method, lying in wait on a tree limb, only to drop down onto someone passing by (usually a lumberjack) and pound the victim to death with its ball. For a male cat, the ball was multipurpose: the cat could drum it against a hollow log to try to attract females.

Where did stories of such a creature originate? This is another thing we don’t know (add it to the list!). We speculate that perhaps a woodsman encountered a mountain lion with an abscess or tumor on its tail, and one thing led to another—but we doubt such a cat tried to beat the man to death with its tail. And yes, we made up everything in that last sentence, so don’t go quoting it as fact. Could be lumberjacks are just really good at making stuff up.

A dimaul, dingmaul, or digmaul.

The Monster Blog of Monsters reports that “magizoologists” have noted the similarity between the ball-tailed cat’s tail and that of the dinosaur Ankylosaurus, which is thought to have used the mass on its tail “in defence and threat displays.” Some of these magizoologists even think that the ball-tailed cat could be related to Ankylosaurus, “but they are generally regarded as being quite, quite bonkers.” We would have to agree.

A silver cat. Apparently they liked
to hang upside down from branches.

Similar mythical felines include the digmaul (which we have also found spelled “dingmaul” or “dimaul”) and the silver cat. The silver cat sounds particularly fearsome, as the ball in its tail featured a smooth side for beating things and a spiked side for hanging on to them. You wouldn’t want to run into one of those in the woods, now would you?

Picture credit: All images are from Tryon’s book Fearsome Critters, illustrated by Margaret R. Tryon. [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.

Sources

 “Ball-Tailed Cat,” Wikipedia, last edited 27 May 2018.

Craig Chaddock, “Ball-TailedCat,” The Monster Blog of Monsters.

Henry H. Tryon, Fearsome Critters (70^th anniversary hypertext ed., http://www.lumberwoods.com/p7.htm; originally published 1939 by Idlewild Press).

Think Before You Wish, or, Let Your Cat Be a Cat

Have you ever wished your cat could be someone else? First of all, why on earth would you wish for something like that? And second, you should be careful what you wish for, as the old widow in this US folk story found out the hard way.

Once upon a time, there was an old widow woman whose only companion in life was her faithful cat. Woman and cat spent hours every day in their comfortable chair near the fireplace, the woman reading and the cat curled on her lap, purring. They so enjoyed this spot that they often spent not only the day but also the night alternately reading and dozing before the fire.

And that is where they were late one night, the woman snoring contentedly as the final embers of the fire faded, when suddenly the cat stood up, arched his back, and hissed. The woman stirred herself awake and was startled to see a short but lithe figure standing between her and the fire.

“Who are you?” the woman demanded, reaching for the cane she kept propped against her chair.

“Greetings! I am your elf,” said the figure.

The woman’s fingers brushed against the cane but only succeed in knocking it to the floor.

“Let me get that for you,” the figure offered, stepping closer.

“No! You stay where you are, you … you.… What did you say you are again?”

“An elf. I’m your personal wish elf, come to grant you three wishes. Whatever you want, just name it, Granny.”

The cat hissed. The woman laughed. “No such thing as elves,” she said.

“And yet here I am,” the elf replied quite reasonably. “Come on, just tell me your wishes, I’ll grant them, and we’ll both be happy. I’ll be that much closer to making my monthly wish quota, and you’ll get some stuff you want. What can it hurt to wish?”

At this point the woman realized she must be having a dream. This elf—or whatever it was—was right. What could it hurt to wish?

“All right,” she said. “First, I wish I were rich. And not just a little bit rich—I want to be filthy rich. Second, I wish I were young again, and beautiful. Third, I wish my cat here were a handsome young man. But not too young. Something Channing Tatum-ish. You got that?”

“Sure, Granny. Wealth, youth, pretty plaything. This is all standard stuff. You’ll have it when you wake in the morning. If you’re not completely satisfied, call 1-800—”

“Oh, get out already!”

With that, the elf vanished. Chuckling at the mere thought of a “personal wish elf,” the woman dozed off again.

The next morning, the woman woke to find herself in a luxurious bed in the most extravagantly furnished bedroom she could imagine. Seeing a mirror on the wall, she slipped out of bed—without any pain or creaking joints, she noticed—and hurried to look at herself. Her hair was once again long and blond, her wrinkles and age spots were gone, and—she smiled and then opened her mouth to be sure—yes, she had a full set of her own teeth! If all this had happened, then the cat …

She turned to see a shirtless Channing Tatum lounging on a chair, staring seductively at her.

“Darling!” she squealed and ran to him, squeezing herself into the chair with him.

He put his arms around her and kissed her passionately. It was perfect—everything she had wished for.

Then Channing said, “Now don’t you wish you’d never had me fixed?”

Adapted from the story “Three Wishes” in Frank de Caro’s The Folktale Cat (August House, 1992).

Illustration via Adobe Stock.

Reminder!

The Pet Photo Fails Blog Hop happens right here tomorrow! So get out those not-quite-right pet photos and be ready to hop and have some Friday fun.

The Linky will open at 12:01 a.m.

All pets are welcome!

#PetPhotoFails

Jólakötturinn: The Icelandic Cat Who Might Eat You for Christmas

For regular readers of this blog, the words “Christmas” and “cat” probably bring up thoughts of all the neat presents you’re getting for your cat(s) this year. Or maybe you picture your cat(s) sleeping peacefully under the tree or climbing less peacefully up the tree. In any case, the cat is innocent and sweet (yes, even when climbing the tree!). But in Iceland, the Christmas Cat, or Jólakötturinn or Jólaköttur, is a different animal altogether.  The Jólakötturinn is a monster of a cat that will eat you unless you have met one specific requirement.

A giant cat that wants to see your new Christmas clothes

The Jólakötturinn is said to be a giant cat bigger than a house. It is active on Christmas night, when it prowls from house to house, looking in windows and inspecting kids’ Christmas gifts. If a child has received new clothes, he or she is safe. But for children who have not received new clothes, the outcome is a little more unpleasant. First, the Jólakötturinn eats the child’s Christmas dinner; then it eats the child.

Why the focus on new clothes? Well, according to the tradition, if you finish your work on time, you get new clothes for Christmas. But if you’re lazy and put your work off so you can’t finish on time, no clothes for you, and you can be expecting a visit from the Jólakötturinn. Children are also encouraged to be generous to less-fortunate kids who might not otherwise receive new clothes for Christmas; that way, those less-fortunate kids can also be safe from the Christmas Cat.

Where did this idea come from?

The legend may be as old as the Dark Ages, but it apparently wasn’t written down until the 19th century. According to “The Yule Cat,” people worked hard to finish the work required to process the autumn wool before Christmas. Those who helped with this work received new clothing; those who didn’t, received nothing. The threat of the Jólakötturinn could offer some extra encouragement to those who were otherwise not inclined to work.

Jólakötturinn is not alone

The Jólakötturinn is not the only child-eating monster in Iceland’s Christmas lore. The beast is said to live in Iceland’s mountains with the giantess Grýla and her sons the Yule Lads. Grýla is believed to devour children who have misbehaved (a notion that gives a whole new meaning to Santa’s “naughty list”). The Yule Lads are pranksters (or child eaters, depending on the darkness of the version you believe) who steal food and play pranks on people. In modern times, they also leave presents in children’s shoes. For children who have been bad during the year, the Yule Lads leave behind rotting potatoes (and you thought coal was bad!).

So, this Christmas, as you sip hot cocoa and pet your cat while you gaze happily at the Christmas tree, make sure you’re wearing at least one new article of clothing to prove your industriousness, or don’t be surprised if you get a rather unpleasant visit from a giant cat!

Sources

Cellania, Miss. “8 Legendary Monsters of Christmas.” Mental Floss. December 16, 2015. http://mentalfloss.com/article/54184/8-legendary-monsters-christmas.

Lewis, Danny. “Each Christmas, Iceland’s Yule Cat Takes Fashion Policing to the Extreme.” Smithsonian.com. December 19, 2016. https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/each-christmas-icelands-yule-cat-takes-fashion-policing-extreme-180961420/

“Yule Cat”, Wikipedia, last edited December 7, 2017, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yule_Cat.

Words with Webster (Irusan), Plus Friendly Fill-Ins

We have two fun features for you this Friday. First up is Words with Webster, in which he shares some information about a mysterious type of cat. This is followed by Friendly Fill-Ins.

Words with Webster

Hi, everyone! I’m Real Cat Webster, here to welcome you to Words with Me. Today’s word is really interesting, and one that I never heard of until recently. It’s Irusan, and it means “King of the Cats” in Celtic folklore.

According to Godchecker.com, Irusan was about the size of a cow (big kitty!) and lived in a cave near Knowth on the River Boyne in Ireland, where there is a UNESCO World Heritage Site because of all the burial mounds and prehistoric art. I couldn’t find anything about a big cat in the art though. I did have fun exploring the Brú na Bóinne website. They have some pictures that are pretty cool to look at, even if they aren’t cats.

Scary-looking cat from the 1894 book
More English Fairy Tales, by J. Jacobs,
Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons. 

Back to Irusan. The stories about him are kind of hard to keep straight because there are so many. One story from Ireland claims that the King of Cats might be your very own house cat. To find out, you just cut off a little piece of the cat’s ear (ouch!), and if he is actually Irusan, he will speak to you, telling you who he is, and also telling you some things you’d rather not know about yourself (cats notice things, you know).

In another story, which has versions from England and Scotland, a man returns home after being away for an unexpectedly long time one day, and he tells his family of the bizarre adventure he had. I am shortening the story a little, but basically he says that he came upon a strange funeral—one in which the coffin was carried by cats. Other cats carried torches, and in their light the man could make out a cross and a scepter marked on the coffin. At this point, the family’s cat, who had been lying nearby listening to the tale, jumps up saying, “By Jove! Old Peter’s dead, and I’m the King of the Cats!” The cat then rushes up the chimney and is never seen again.

(Sources: “Irusan,” God Checker, updated August 10, 2014. http://www.godchecker.com/pantheon/celtic-mythology.php?deity=IRUSAN; “The King of the Cats,” Death of an Underground Person, translated or edited by D. L. Ashliman, http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/type6070b.html#wildecat; “The King of the Cats,” Wikipedia, updated November 7, 2016.)

Friendly Fill-Ins

And now it’s time for Friendly Fill-Ins, from 15andmeowing and McGuffy’s Reader. They are a fun way to learn a little bit about the authors of the blogs you read. The first two questions, answered by Real Cat Paisley this week, are from Ellen of 15andmeowing, and the next two, answered by old SoLT, are from Annie of McGuffy’s Reader.

Real Cat Paisley's answers

1. My idea of roughing it is having an empty food dish. Sometimes I get hungry in the middle part of the day, but there is no food in my dish. It is awful.

2. I never get sick of talking about how horrible it is that the dog eats some of my food sometimes every day (see #1 above).

Old SoLT's answers

3. My youth is mostly a blur, and getting blurrier every day!

4. My "golden years" is a concept that worries me, because I have several health issues that will probably be catching up with me by then.

The Cat Witch of Okabe: A Tale from Japan

An old witch takes the form of a giant cat
to waylay young women visiting the shrine.
Print by Utagawa Kuniyoshi, ca. 1845
Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons..   

Our subject today is shape-shifting demon cats in Japanese folklore and kabuki theater. We’re going back to 19th-century Japan, where these sorts of weird cat stories were not uncommon. Enjoy.

The cat-shaped stone at Okabe

Next to the temple in the village of Okabe, there was a mysterious cat-shaped stone. Naturally there was a juicy story to explain this odd stone, and it involved a cat who, in disguise as a friendly old woman, haunted the temple grounds, luring young girls into her house to kill and eat them. This cat witch was so evil, she eventually changed into the stone.

So, if ever you happen upon a stone shaped like a cat, beware, because it could be a witch.

The kabuki performance and the dance of the cats

Another version of a cat witch at Okabe can be seen in the illustration below, where we see the story as it was enacted in a kabuki performance. Here’s what’s happening in this scene:

The witch, in human female form, is in the center with a big, scary cat behind her. Notice that she has cat’s ears. The men on either side of her are samurai trying to kill her. Also notice the two dancing cats with pieces of cloth on their heads. In Japan, there was a belief that when a napkin went missing, the cat had stolen it to wear on its head when it attended the dance of the cats. I know…I never heard of this either. Anyway, these cats would get together in the temple with their napkins on their heads and dance, singing out, “Neko ja!” (“We are cats!”) This is a really inappropriate thing to do in a temple, but then, they were badly behaved cats.

The witch is in the center, with a giant cat in the background.
Two cats dance beside her with cloths on their heads, and two samurai are trying to kill her.
By Utagawa Kuniyoshi. 1835.
Public domain via Wikimedia Commons.

Getting back to our story…So this samurai stopped at a temple for the night and was disturbed by these dancing cats. But in this case, they were singing, “Don’t tell Shippeitaro.” Naturally the samurai asked the villagers what this dance was about, and they told him that once a year, the cats forced them to send their most beautiful maiden to the temple to be sacrificed to the spirit of the mountain. Shippeitaro, it turned out, was a brave and honorable dog of the village.

The samurai got an idea.

The samurai’s idea

His idea was to take Shippeitaro and put him in the cage where the young girl was supposed to go. Then he took the cage to the temple, and out came the dancing cats, along with a giant tomcat. The tomcat opened the cage expecting to find a young maiden, but out jumped Shippeitaro, who grabbed hold of the giant cat, at which point the samurai drew his sword and killed the cat. Shippeitaro took care of the other cats. Thus the village was freed from its rather horrible burden.

For more Japanese cat stories, see The Vampire Cat of Nabeshima and The Story of the Faithful Cat.

Source

Katharine M. Rogers, Cat (London: Reaktion Books, 2006), 56–58.

Why the Cat Lived Inside and the Dog Lived Outside

A tale from Ireland, retold with some minor alterations by Miss Cuddlywumps

The cat had it made, spending her days
warming herself by the fire.
Stock image by wip-studio, via Adobe Stock.

Once there was a cat.  Once there was a dog. The cat lived in a man’s house, where she liked to warm herself by the fire and play with fun little toys the man brought for her. The dog lived outside the house, in all kinds of weather—though he could go huddle in the barn to stay dry, so the cat really didn’t see what the big deal was.

Anyway, the dog wanted to be inside where it was always warm and dry, and on one particularly wet and miserable day, he told the cat, “You think you’re so smart, being in there all the time, but I’m going to ask the man whether I can be inside instead. Then you’ll be out in the barn, and we’ll see who’s smart.”

The dog, meanwhile, had to stay outside. We're
pretty sure he didn't actually have a rain coat,
but we thought this picture was kind of cute.
Stock image by Sabine Schönfeld, via Adobe Stock.

Now, the man overheard this conversation (this being back in the time when humans listened to their fellow earthlings—though why a man who could converse with a dog would then leave the poor dog outside in the cold and wet is beyond me). The man wanted to decide the question of which animal should have the privilege of lying in front of the fire, and he proposed a race: The next morning, the cat and dog would start out five miles from the house, and whichever of them made it home first would be allowed to live inside. (Why they couldn’t both live inside is, again, beyond me. Purrsonally, I’d rather live with a dog than with a man who leaves one of his pets out in all sorts of weather. But I digress.)

Morning came, and the cat and dog started out on their race. As they ran for home (the story is curiously silent on how, exactly, they got five miles from home so they could race back, but again I digress), the dog pulled ahead of the cat, owing to his longer legs. Then, the dog came upon a beggar who, seeing this great shaggy beast bearing down on him, thought he was being attacked. Quite smartly, the beggar raised his walking stick and gave the dog a good whack, whereupon the dog got totally distracted and started barking at the beggar and generally making a big fuss.

Meanwhile, the cat ran right past this rather disgraceful scene and reached home long before the dog. When the dog finally returned to the house, it was to find the cat installed in her usual comfortable place in front of the fire. “Now,” she said to the dog, “we see who is smart, and we see who will rest before the fire forever.”

And there the cat has been ever since.

The end

And in the end, the cat wound up right back in front of the fire.
Stock image by wip-studio, via Adobe Stock.

This story has been adapted from the story "The Cat and the Dog" as it appeared in Frank de Caro (ed.), The Folktale Cat (Little Rock: August House, 1992), 32-33.

Why the Cat Always Falls on Her Feet: A Native American Tale

Many tales have been told of the culture hero Manabozho (or Nanabozho, Wenabozho, Michabo… his name took on many spellings). This hero is known among the Anishinaabe people (also known as the Ojibwa or Chippewa). This story concerns Manabozho, a snake, and a cat.

One day, as Manabozho was walking from one place to another through the forest, he became so overcome with weariness he had to lie down to rest. He saw a tree with soft moss growing under it, and there he lay down and quickly fell asleep, lulled into a peaceful rest by the pleasing sounds of the forest’s birds, insects, and leaves.

As Manabozho slept, a large poisonous snake came slithering through the undergrowth. When it saw Manabozho lying defenseless under the tree, it hissed, “Yesterday this man warned that stupid cat that I was about to strike her, and she got away. ‘Watch out, little cat, watch out!’ he said. Idiot. I could have eaten that cat, if not for this man. Well, today I will kill him. Then we’ll see who should watch out!”

The snake slithered closer, but suddenly Manabozho stirred. “Watch out, little cat, watch out!” he mumbled in his sleep. The snake stopped, waiting and ready to sneak away if the man woke. But, seeing Manabozho sleeping on soundly, the snake again began his approach, slowly and taking care to make no sound as his scales slid among the leaves and twigs that littered the earth. Then, when it was close enough, the snake coiled its long body and raised its horrible head. Its eyes focused on the spot on Manabozho’s arm where it intended to strike.

Manabozho slept on.

Now, up in the branches of the tree was a little cat—the very cat whom Manabozho had helped the day before. The cat’s eyes widened as the snake drew closer and closer to her friend, and her tiny body shivered when the slithery creature made ready to strike. What could she do? The snake was so large, and she was so small… But Manabozho had saved her, and so, without another thought, the little cat leapt from her branch, landing on the snake’s head in the moment he began his strike.

The snake hissed in fury. “Sssstupid cat!” He would have struck at her, but she immediately leapt once again at his head, and again, and again. The snake’s fury proved no match for the little cat’s bravery. Soon enough the snake lay dead.

Manabozho slept on.

When Manabozho awoke, it was to find the little cat sitting next to the dead snake. He understood right away that the cat had saved his life. Wanting to thank her and reward her for her bravery and friendship, he said, “How can I honor you? Your sight and hearing are sharp and keen. You can run swiftly. Ah, I know… From this day, you shall be known as a friend of Man, and you will always be welcome in Man’s home. And, since you leapt from the tree to kill the serpent, as long as you live, you shall leap where you will, and you shall always fall upon your feet.”

Sources

This story has been adapted from Florence Holbrook, The Book of Nature Myths (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1902); and Frank de Caro (ed.), The Folktale Cat (Little Rock: August House, 1992).

Picture credits

Kot by monikakosz via Adobe Stock. Snake by Lenan via Adobe Stock. Forest with deer by artnovielysa via Adobe Stock.

The Cat Bastet Debates the Jackal

Our subject today is an Egyptian fable from the Christian era (that’s from 30 BC to AD 640, give or take). The fable was recorded on papyrus that has been badly damaged, so unfortunately we don’t have the whole story. What we do have tells the story of a debate between a cat and a jackal. It goes like this:

There once was a giant cat, a representative of the Egyptian goddess Bastet. There once was a small jackal. One day these two met and began to talk about philosophy (as you do).

The cat’s argument

The cat said, “The gods are in charge of everything, and they will always reward good and punish evil. If anyone harms even a tiny lamb, that person will meet with retribution—eventually. Even when the sky is dark with clouds, the sun is always shining and will always break through, scattering the clouds and bringing light and joy—eventually.”

The jackal’s argument

“Boy, what a load of hooey!” the jackal retorted. [These were possibly not his exact words, but you get the idea.] He went on, “In this world, the strong will always triumph over the weak. Just look at how the lizard eats the insect, the bat eats the lizard, the snake eats the bat, and the hawk eats the snake. As for evil, your measly little prayers have no power over an evil man.” [Again, possibly not his exact words.]

The cat’s passion

The two argued back and forth, with the jackal offering reasoned arguments while the cat said some more stuff about good always winning—eventually.

In fact, the cat was so ineffectual in her arguments that sometimes she could do nothing but “fall into a passion”—that’s what the translated papyrus said. We imagine this would look something like an antiwar protester beating someone over the head with his peace sign. Only with claws. The little jackal naturally had a certain amount of respect for the cat’s claws.

The end

Unfortunately, that’s all that can be gotten from the damaged papyrus. Who won the debate? Perhaps we’ll never know, though it seems the writer may have been on the jackal’s side.

Sources

Katharine M. Rogers, The Cat and the Human Imagination: Feline Images from Bast to Garfield (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1998), 10.

A. Weidemann, Popular Literature in Ancient Egpyt, transl. by J. Hutchison (London: David Nutt, 1902), 14–16.

Stock images of cat and jackal via Abode Stock.

A Guide to Cats, Colors, and Luck: It’s Complicated

Well, this doesn't look good for you. The post hasn't even started,
and already there's a black cat on your path.
Do you believe in luck?
Stock image by Petra Kohlstädt via Adobe Stock. 

 

Humans have all sorts of sayings about luck. For some reason, humans have long thought that animals, including cats, have something to do with luck. You know how bad humans are at remembering things, so they’ve made up lots of pithy sayings to remind themselves of how luck works. You know the sort of thing:  If X happens, then you’ll have Y kind of luck. And so on.

She of Little Talent has done some digging into a book of Maryland folklore published in 1925, and she has collected several sayings about what kind of luck you’ll get from various encounters with cats of different colors. She’s put them into this handy little guide. Enjoy.

Black cats

• To meet a black cat early in the morning is a sign of good luck.
• It is bad luck if a black cat crosses your path from right to left; good luck if from left to right.
• If a black cat crosses you path, it is bad luck; worse luck if you are on a journey; worse luck still if she carries a kitten in her mouth. The same is true of a rabbit or hare. Best go home and take food before starting again, or wait until another day.
• If a black cat runs in front of you, it is good luck.
• A black cat looking in the window is a sign of bad luck.
• If a black cat enters your house, it is bad luck.
• If a black cat comes to your house and you take it in, it is good luck.
• It is a sign of good luck for a black cat to enter a newly tenanted house.
• If a black cat comes into a newly opened store, it is a sign of good luck.
• If a black cat licks itself, it is a sign of good luck.

Is this white cat a harbinger of doom or a
good-luck charm? Either way, she's very pretty.
Stock image by seregraff via Adobe Stock.

 White cats

• It is good luck to let a pure white cat go across your path.
• If a white cat runs in front of you, it is bad luck.

 Gray cats

• It is bad luck for a gray cat to cross your path.

 Tuxedo cats

• A black cat with a white breast in a bedroom is a sign of bad luck.

Conclusion

To sum up, if you encounter a cat in the state of Maryland, you might have either good or bad luck, depending on (a) the cat’s color; (b) the time of day; and (c) whether you meet the cat, it crosses your path, runs in front of you, looks in your window, comes in your house, and/or licks itself. Apparently tuxedo cats affect luck only in the bedroom.

What kind of luck will you get from calico kittens in party hats?
We don't know, but it looks good.
Stock image by Katrina Brown via Adobe Stock.

Oddly, there is no saying about what kind of luck calico cats bring. I say “oddly” because the calico is the state cat of Maryland, so you’d think that encountering one would bring good luck. Unless you are on a journey and the calico cat crosses your path from left to right while walking backwards and carrying a black kitten. Then…well, you should probably go home and go back to bed. But buy a lottery ticket first, because you might just have good luck.

If you believe in that sort of thing.

Source

All sayings about cats and luck are quoted from Folk-Lore from Maryland, collected by Annie Weston Whitney and Caroline Canfield Bullock (New York: American Folk-Lore Society, 1925, Reprint 1929).

The Story of the Faithful Cat

A cat tale from Old Japan

Some months ago, we brought you the story “The Vampire Cat of Nabéshima” from a book called Tales of Old Japan. Today, we return to that text for another cat story, one of a family feline who faithfully protected a young lady from a horrible fate. WARNING: This is not a cute-and-cuddly type of kitty story! 

A long time ago, there was a cat from Osaka who seemed to have a strange attraction to the daughter of the family that had reared him from when he was a kitten. This cat constantly followed the girl, who was about sixteen years old, so that he was always at her side, day and night. This bothered the girl’s father immensely. He thought that the cat must have fallen in love with the girl and would certainly cast a spell on her. The only remedy for this, the father thought, was to kill the cat.

Now the cat, of course, was no fool. Having overheard the father planning his execution, he went to the man’s bed that night and whispered the truth in his ear.

“I am not in love with your daughter,” the cat said, in a human voice that the man would understand in his sleep. “I am protecting her from a nasty old rat that is in love with her and wishes to carry her off. I cannot leave her even for a moment, or else he would take her. This rat is far too big and powerful for me to defeat on my own, but there is a very famous cat named Buchi who lives with Mr. Thus-and-Such not far from here. You should borrow Buchi, and together he and I will dispatch the old rat.”

The next morning, the father was excited to tell everyone about the extraordinary dream he’d had. That very day, he set off for Mr. Thus-and-Such’s house to ask if he could borrow Buchi the famous cat. Mr. Thus-and-Such readily agreed to loan out his cat for a short while, and so the father returned home toting Buchi.

That night, the two cats were set to watch for the rat. Not long into the night, the household heard a dreadful lot of growling, snarling, and scuffling. They all ran toward the noise, arriving to find the two cats locked in stalemate with the largest rat any of them had ever seen. The cats had caught hold of the rat, but he had caught hold of them, too, so that none of them could move without giving advantage to their adversary. All three combatants panted for breath and waited to regain their strength for another round of battle. Before that could happen, though, the father cut the throat of the rat, thus putting an end to the threat.

Both the cats had been horribly injured in the fight. The family tended to them, cleaning their wounds and giving them the best medicine, but the cats only became weaker and weaker and finally died. The enormous rat was thrown into the river, while the honorable cats were buried in a nearby temple, and the family’s descendants celebrated their faithful cat for generations to come.

The end (though we do wonder what Mr. Thus-and-Such thought about the loss of his famous cat).

This story has been adapted and slightly abridged. You can find the original in Tales of Old Japan at Project Gutenberg. There are also many versions available on Amazon in print and for Kindle.

Stretching cat illustration © Leonidbord | Dreamstime.com - Cat Is Stretching Photo

The Cat, the Rooster, and the Fox: A Russian Folktale

Miss Cuddlywumps retells a Russian classic, with a few adaptations

Once upon a time, a cat and a rooster lived in a cozy little house together and were great friends. The cat took care of everything like rent and food, while the rooster spent his days admiring himself in the mirror. One day, the cat had to go out and do some, you know, “cat things.” Before he left the little house, he told the rooster to stay safe inside and not even open the door or window to anyone. But as soon as the cat was out of sight, along came a sly and hungry fox, who scattered some grain under the window and sang out to the rooster to come and get it. She also sang of his supposed great handsomeness and of how much she would love to just see him for a moment.

Rooster, pretty but not smart.
Pays no rent.
© Teodota |
Dreamstime.com -
Rooster Photo

Now, we know birds are not very smart (really, the smartest thing this rooster ever did was to team up with a wise cat to protect him), and this rooster was particularly vain about his looks, so he opened the window and stuck his head out, whereupon the fox seized him by the neck and carried him off into the woods. The rooster of course called out for help, and his friend the cat, not being too far away, heard him and ran to save him. He clawed at the fox until she finally released the poor rooster, who was most distressed to have lost a few feathers in the scuffle.

Fox, has a plan.
Will soon have a meal.
© Tamagocha | Dreamstime.com
Angry Red Fox Photo

When they were home safe and sound, the cat made the rooster promise to never listen to the fox again. The rooster promised.

The next day, the cat again had to go out, and before leaving, he reminded the rooster not to go outside, open the door or window, or pay attention to any foxes that happened by. The rooster promised. But as soon as the cat was out of sight, along came that same old fox. Again she scattered grain under the window and sang out to the rooster, adding in a few verses about his beautiful feathers, and again the rooster opened the window and stuck his head out, only to be snatched up by the fox. Again the rooster called out for help, and again his friend the cat ran to his rescue.

When they were home safe and sound, the cat again made the rooster promise to never, ever listen to the fox. The rooster promised.

The next day—the very next day—the cat again had to go out. This time he had to go farther away to do his cat things, and he reminded the rooster not to go outside, open the door or window, or listen to any foxes. The rooster promised. But not long after the cat had gone, along came the fox. Again she scattered her grain under the window and sang her enticing song to the rooster. Again the rooster opened the window and stuck his head out, and again the fox snatched him and ran off into the woods. Again the rooster called for help, fully expecting his friend the cat to come along and save him. But this time the cat was too far away to hear him, and so help never came for the poor rooster. The fox made rather a tasty meal of him, leaving only a few of those beautiful feathers behind.

Cat, seeking new roommate.
Successful applicant will have job, no feathers.
© Pirxyazon |
Dreamstime.com -
Cat.Photo

Now when the cat returned home, at first he was upset to have lost his friend, for he knew the fox must have taken the rooster and devoured him. But then he thought, “Well, there’s nothing to be done with a friend who won’t listen to your good advice.”

He also resolved to get a roommate who was (a) smarter and (b) had a job and could pay part of the rent.

The end