Caturday felid trifecta: Cat in baby sling; Scottish wildcat disappears due to interbreeding with ferals; and the best cat poetry

This will probably be the last Caturday felid of the year, as Dec. 30 is my birthday; but it won’t be the last Caturday felid forever—so long as people keep reading it.  First, we have a short video of a cat reacting to being put in a baby sling.  Guess whether the cat will like it! (This woman is obviously pregnant with a human, too!)

There are a number of appealing videos of this family and the cat is staffs at the Don’tStopMeowing video site. Chase the Tabby is a real kvetcher.

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Matthew and I always argue about whether Scottish wildcats are real: a population of the European wildcat (Felis silvestris) that lives in Scotland (Matthew’s view, shared by most scientists) or simply a population of feral tabbies. There’s some DNA evidence that Scottish wildcats may have been a distinct population, but have bred with feral domestic cats, which makes the question harder to answer.

The summary article below in Science suggests that yes, Scottish wildcats were a wild population of the European wildcat until about 70 years ago, but then began interbeeding with feral housecats, and now there’s no even fairly pure gene pool of the Scottish wildcat; it’s been polluted by moggie genes. Click to read:

An excerpt (read the original paper if you’re curious):

Though it lies in ruins on the northeast coast of England, Kilton Castle was once an imposing stone fortress, home to several noble families, and—it appears—at least eight cats. Archaeological excavations in the 1960s uncovered a well, at the bottom of which lay the bones of several felines dating back to the 14th century. The animals were an odd mix: Some were domestic cats, but other, larger specimens appeared to be European wildcats, a fierce, burly species that has inhabited the continent for hundreds of thousands of years.

The two species’ closeness in death was deceptive. A study published today in Current Biology finds that even though European wildcats and domestic cats overlapped in Great Britain for more than 2000 years—including at sites such as Kilton—they appear to have almost never interbred. That changed suddenly about 70 years ago, when domestic cats began to mate with wildcats in Scotland. In the span of mere decades, the genome of the Scottish wildcat—the last remaining wildcat in Great Britain—has become so corrupted that the animal is now effectively extinct, a second study in the same issue finds. The findings could complicate ongoing efforts to save the most endangered mammalian carnivore in Great Britain.

“It’s very intriguing work,” says Shu-Jin Luo, a geneticist at Peking University who researches the DNA of wildcats in China and who has similar concerns about the impact of domestic cats there. “The studies set a very good template for studying the interactions between domestic cats and wildcats around the world.”

According to the study, housecats and wild Felis silvestris individuals coexisted for two millennia, but remained genetically separate because they favored different habitats (this is called “ecological isolation” in the trade). Then the scrublands that were homes of the wildcats were largely erased by human activity. The report (I haven’t read it) also suggests that the wildcats and domestic cats bred at different times (called “temporal isolation”) in that domestic cats have no real breeding season but wildcats breed twice a year:

Domestic cats have been in Europe for thousands of years, having likely followed migrating farmers from their birthplace in the Middle East. Once they entered the continent, they invaded the home of a distant relative, the European wildcat.

The two aren’t so different: Both belong to the genus Felis (our kitties are F. catus; the wildcat is F. silvestris), and the European wildcat has a brown, striped coat reminiscent of some tabbies. But the wildcat is about 20% bigger, with denser fur and a thick, blunt tail. It’s also fiercely solitary and wants nothing to do with humans. Try as you might to tame it, says Roo Campbell, a mammal specialist at NatureScot, Scotland’s nature agency, “you’re not going to end up with a cuddly pet.”

So perhaps it’s no surprise that domestic cats and European wildcats kept to themselves. Even though domestic cats became widespread in Europe during Roman times, DNA markers from modern cats and ancient bones show virtually no genetic overlap between the two species, the first paper reports.

One explanation is that—Kilton Castle aside—they largely avoided the same places. Domestic cats lived in close proximity to people, where food (and perhaps petting) was plentiful, whereas wildcats preferred scrubland far from human habitation. Wildcats also only mate twice a year, whereas domestic cats can mate whenever they want, so hooking up at the right time would have proved challenging.

Dogs and wolves show a similar pattern, notes study author Greger Larson, an evolutionary biologist at the University of Oxford. Those two canids have overlapped in the Northern Hemisphere for at least 11,000 years, he says, but show little evidence of interbreeding.

. . .Today, the genome of the Scottish wildcat is so “swamped” with domestic cat DNA that the animal is “genomically extinct,” the authors conclude. All that’s left in nature is a “hybrid swarm,” they write, a confused mix of wild and domestic DNA. In some cases, the wildcats’ striking stripes have been replaced by spots, as well as other patterns and colors not found in nature.

“Everything these wildcats have evolved over thousands of years is being lost in a few generations,” says the study’s lead author, Jo Howard-McCombe, a conservation geneticist at the Royal Zoological Society of Scotland (RZSS). The findings are a particular sting to Scotland, where the wildcat is a symbol of bravery and independence, appearing on everything from high school logos to the crests of storied clans.

What a pity! Here’s a picture of a putative domestic cat/Scottish wildcat, with the caption from Science:

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“World’s Best Cat Litter“, surely an advertising site, nevertheless gives us a list of cat poetry worth reading. Click to read, and I’ll give my favorite, which faithful readers already know.

Excerpts—and their list:

They move through the world with an elegant and rhythmic gait, their lithe bodies embodying the very essence of poetry in motion. Every swish of their tail, every stealthy pounce, is a dance of precision and grace.

They are the furriest of ballerinas.

A cat’s ability to inhabit the moment, to be completely present, is a lesson in mindfulness and a theme often celebrated in poetry. Just as a poet uses words to paint vivid pictures, a cat uses its actions and expressions to convey a spectrum of emotions, from affection to indifference.

The great T.S. Eliot knew this well when he penned “Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats.”

His whimsical collection of cat poems, later adapted into the famous musical “Cats,” brings the quirks and idiosyncrasies of feline friends to life through imaginative verse.

In “The Naming of Cats,” he muses on the complexity of a cat’s many names, reflecting the multi-faceted nature of these creatures that poets find so enchanting.

. . .A simple sunbeam transforms into a stage for their theatrical naps, and a cardboard box becomes an epic adventure. In these everyday moments, poets find inspiration to celebrate the joy of the mundane. And thus, this is why owning a cat is like living in a perpetual poem.

Their presence evokes a sense of wonder, an appreciation for life’s smaller pleasures, and a deep connection with the world around us. Whether it’s through their graceful movements, their soothing purrs, or their playful antics, cats invite us to explore the poetic aspects of existence.

Here’s a list of poems about cats, each celebrating the grace, mystery, and charm of these beloved feline companions.

The list. I’ve added links where possible:

• “The Naming of Cats” by T.S. Eliot – From “Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats,” this poem explores the idea that cats have many names and facets.
• “The Owl and the Pussycat” by Edward Lear – A delightful and whimsical poem about an owl and a cat who set out on a journey together.
• “The Cat in the Hat” by Dr. Seuss – A beloved children’s book in rhyme, featuring the mischievous cat in the iconic red and white striped hat.
• “Macavity: The Mystery Cat” by T.S. Eliot – Another gem from “Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats,” this poem introduces us to Macavity, the notorious mystery cat.
• “Cat” by Eleanor Farjeon – A charming and simple poem that captures the essence of a cat’s character.
• “The Cat” by Emily Dickinson – In this short poem, Emily Dickinson muses on the enigmatic nature of cats.
• “The Cat’s Song” by Marge Piercy – This poem celebrates the independent and wild spirit of cats.
• “Pangur Bán” by Anonymous – An Irish poem from the 9th century, it compares the scholar’s work to the hunting activities of a white cat named Pangur Bán.

I’ve linked to Seamus Heaney’s English translation above, but the original version in Old Irish is here, along with a better English translation by Robin Flower.

• “The Rum Tum Tugger” by T.S. Eliot – Yet another cat from “Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats,” this poem introduces the curious and fickle Rum Tum Tugger.
• “Cats” by Henry S. Leigh – A humorous poem that pokes fun at the various personalities and quirks of different cat breeds.

I couldn’t find that one, but here’s another cat poem by Leigh, “My Love and My Heart.”

• “To a Cat” by Jorge Luis Borges – In this poem, Borges reflects on the mysterious and timeless nature of cats.

The original Spanish version by Borges is here.

• “The Cat That Walked by Himself” by Rudyard Kipling – Part of Kipling’s “Just So Stories,” this poem explores the independent nature of the first cat in the world.

This is not a poem but one of Kipling’s “Just So Stories”, a collection that Matthew is particularly fond of.

• “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot – While not exclusively about cats, this modernist masterpiece contains a reference to a cat that adds depth to the poem.

Well, here’s the verse that I think they’re referring to. I love the poem, which is a masterpiece, but I don’t know how much “depth” this adds. It’s a simile, that’s all:

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,

The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,

Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,

Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,

Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,

Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,

And seeing that it was a soft October night,

Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

But where this list really goes wrong is that it omits the very best poetry ever written about a cat: the extract called “For I will consider my cat Jeoffry“, a fragment of the longer poem “Jubilate Agno” (“Rejoice in the Lamb”) written by Christopher Smart (1722-1771) who was at the time confined in an insane asylum with his cat. I will reproduce it in its entirety. There is no competition!

For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God, duly and daily serving him.
For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way.
For is this done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness.
For then he leaps up to catch the musk, which is the blessing of God upon his prayer.
For he rolls upon prank to work it in.
For having done duty and received blessing he begins to consider himself.
For this he performs in ten degrees.
For first he looks upon his forepaws to see if they are clean.
For secondly he kicks up behind to clear away there.
For thirdly he works it upon stretch with the forepaws extended.
For fourthly he sharpens his paws by wood.
For fifthly he washes himself.
For sixthly he rolls upon wash.
For seventhly he fleas himself, that he may not be interrupted upon the beat.
For eighthly he rubs himself against a post.
For ninthly he looks up for his instructions.
For tenthly he goes in quest of food.
For having considered God and himself he will consider his neighbor.
For if he meets another cat he will kiss her in kindness.
For when he takes his prey he plays with it to give it a chance.
For one mouse in seven escapes by his dallying.
For when his day’s work is done his business more properly begins.
For he keeps the Lord’s watch in the night against the adversary. 
For he counteracts the powers of darkness by his electrical skin and glaring eyes.
For he counteracts the Devil, who is death, by brisking about the life.
For in his morning orisons he loves the sun and the sun loves him.
For he is of the tribe of Tiger.
For the Cherub Cat is a term of the Angel Tiger.
For he has the subtlety and hissing of a serpent, which in goodness he suppresses.
For he will not do destruction if he is well-fed, neither will he spit without provocation.
For he purrs in thankfulness when God tells him he’s a good Cat.
For he is an instrument for the children to learn benevolence upon.
For every house is incomplete without him, and a blessing is lacking in the spirit.
For the Lord commanded Moses concerning the cats at the departure of the Children of Israel from Egypt.
For every family had one cat at least in the bag.
For the English Cats are the best in Europe.
For he is the cleanest in the use of his forepaws of any quadruped.
For the dexterity of his defense is an instance of the love of God to him exceedingly.
For he is the quickest to his mark of any creature.
For he is tenacious of his point.
For he is a mixture of gravity and waggery.
For he knows that God is his Saviour.
For there is nothing sweeter than his peace when at rest. 
For there is nothing brisker than his life when in motion. 
For he is of the Lord’s poor, and so indeed is he called by benevolence perpetually–Poor Jeoffry! poor Jeoffry! the rat has bit thy throat.
For I bless the name of the Lord Jesus that Jeoffry is better. 
For the divine spirit comes about his body to sustain it in complete cat.
For his tongue is exceeding pure so that it has in purity what it wants in music.
For he is docile and can learn certain things.
For he can sit up with gravity, which is patience upon approbation.
For he can fetch and carry, which is patience in employment.
For he can jump over a stick, which is patience upon proof positive.
For he can spraggle upon waggle at the word of command.
For he can jump from an eminence into his master’s bosom.
For he can catch the cork and toss it again.
For he is hated by the hypocrite and miser.
For the former is afraid of detection. 
For the latter refuses the charge.
For he camels his back to bear the first notion of business.
For he is good to think on, if a man would express himself neatly.
For he made a great figure in Egypt for his signal services.
For he killed the Icneumon rat, very pernicious by land.
For his ears are so acute that they sting again.
For from this proceeds the passing quickness of his attention.
For by stroking of him I have found out electricity.
For I perceived God’s light about him both wax and fire.
For the electrical fire is the spiritual substance which God sends from heaven to sustain the bodies both of man and beast.
For God has blessed him in the variety of his movements.
For, though he cannot fly, he is an excellent clamberer.
For his motions upon the face of the earth are more than any other quadruped.
For he can tread to all the measures upon the music.
For he can swim for life.
For he can creep.

That cannot be beat. Second comes “Pangur Bán”, and then all the rest are also-rans, though Eliot’s cat poems are pretty good.

h/t Merilee, Ginger K.