It is being quietly established that in the event of a total Cabinet collapse that Larry will take over the leadership role for which he has long prepared..... but  possible not been prepared.

Indeed. Larry tweeted this yesterday:



Some people are asking what the contingency plan is if the majority of the cabinet get coronavirus; you’re looking at him:










Cometh the hour; cometh the cat.

It's good to know that in this mixed-up world we live in there is something we can rely on.

Yesterday when I went to the Spanish class I found that the teacher and his wife are looking after a cat for one of their daughters and her husband while they are on holiday.  In colouring he was not unlike my Tilly (tabby and white but more tabby than white) but he was massive.  I thought Tilly was a big cat but this boy IS a big boy.  He made Tilly look quite small.  He's a something forest cat - Tilly is just a domestic moggy, no particular breed.

I think I mentioned that I had unscrewed the cat flap - I haven't remounted yet it because I've had an ache in the small of my back and don't want to make the ache worse.  To keep Tilly in at night (which Cats Protection advise) I'd leant the cat flap against the hole in the door and put something else in front of it.  Yesterday I woke up and found that Tilly had done the feline equivalent of 'shouldering' it and got out.  I was worried first thing yesterday but she found her own way home fortunately.  The cat which teacher of Spanish and his wife have been looking after is called a Norwegian Forest Cat I believe.

Things are getting rather deep and philosophical over on the Art/Cartoons/ Spoof Art threads so, as we stoically live through Day 34 (?) of the UK Official Lockdown, here is a bit of moggy light relief. Larry Number 10 Cat has organised a #CatNamesWorldCup contest over on Twitter. We are still in the Quarter Finals round. I have just voted for Schrödinger whom I have supported throughout. Here is a useful chart - don't know if it will reproduce satisfactorily here, but will give it a try:





Oh, the writing is a bit small - you have to click on "Enlarge this image" to make out the names. Some of the early entries were a bit pathetic: I wish I had entered Bosworth now. What a fitting memorial to a very fine cat that would had been - especially if he had won! I'm going to call my next cat Norfolk after the Duke of Norfolk (Tudor one, not the present toff).

Elvis Purrsley is out - beaten easily by Schrödinger who is goes forward to the semi-finals. Schrödinger will meet either Chairman Meow or Marmalade who are playing as we speak. CM is in the lead at the moment.

Actually Erwin would have been a better name.

I was disappointed that my 2 favourites didn't even make the finals but were eliminated in the qualifying round. Moffa the tabby (ship's cat from Liverpool, currently whereabouts unknown although believed to be in Zanzibar or Bombay or Shanghai or San Francisco or some such) and Woody the black cat who was actually disqualified by FINF (Fédération Internationale des Noms Félins) for being a suspected witch's familiar. Talk about persecution.

Of those remaining, then I guess I'll have to hold my nose and put my money on Marmalade but against my better judgement. He's even got a smug grin on his face. I bet he's from Nantwich.

Chairman Meow 59.8%

Marmalade 40.2%

6,609 votes

22 hours left.

The naming of cats is ever interesting and best done once you have the cat and not before. The right name just comes to mind. Not in this competition but a friend's impressive choice for her sleek Siamese was Beau Tie.  My ever irritable madam of a cat  called herself Miss Moffat and delighted us with her scowls and self indulgent ways. Her kitten was red and none too bright - the only cat I have ever seen to fall and land on his back, she named Murphy. Another one later I cannot name here. he became so well known  that strangers arrived at the gate asking to see him. An extraordinary anilmal who used the toilet, tried to flush it, opened fridges and doors, sat in chairs like a lounge lizard, fought every other cat in the area and usually had some part of him bandaged. He caught his own fish from the pool, preferred swiss emmental cheese above all other food and bit any guest he did not like.... sometimes hiding in the dining room and finding their feet under the table to attack. ,,, and so on. he was a daily and constant delight -and when we were out of station, he had several servants to tend his several needs.  he ignored us for many days when we returned - and sat angrily spitting  in suitcases when one next was opened.
I had taken him in as a young cat (a stray they had taken in) when his family was posted to Mogadishu and did not think he would adjust there... actually,.he would probably have been KIng of the Mogadishu Mogs.  We have not had a cat since because the agony of losing him to illness - or as his personal and oft visiting vet remarked, an exhausting life style, has remained with us.

Marmalade is toast - Chairman Meow won easily.

Jean-Clawed Van Damme is playing Catmandu today for a place in the semi-finals.

Oh dear, all this is a far cry from the demanding historical/religious/philosophical debates of old, but these are strange times. If Trike and Nord can post rude album covers (that "Planets" one, Trike - honestly!!), I can post nonsense about moggies.

PS Mog of Mogadishu is a good name. If I lived in Khartoum, I'd have a cat called Gordon.

deleted..... daft post. I mean dafter than usual.  Medication melt down syndrome...… for hay fever, nothing more sinister. The weeds are fighting back.

Schrödinger beat William Shakespurr in an incredibly close semi-final. Went to penalties after 50%/50% split in votes at full-time.

Chairman Meow is now playing Catmandu - four hours left to vote. It's got to be Meow v. Schrödy in the final!

The real star of Alien, Jones the Cat:

I suspect few here are following the World Cup (Cat Names) competition with the same avid interest as myself. However, just in case, here is an update.

Play-off for third place was completed yesterday: William Shakespurr takes the prize, with Catmandu  a worthy loser in fourth place. The voting was 54.6% for WS v. 45.4% for Catmandu. I think the latter name was Larry's personal favourite, as he commented that it was "sad" when Cat was eliminated.

Excitement is mounting as the voting is now taking place in the FINAL. It is Schrödinger v. Chairman Meow. I have just voted for the former and was mortified to be informed, after casting my vote, that my choice is losing at the moment: present voting stands at 46.4% for the cat who manages to be and not to be (beat that, Wobblepaw!) and 53.6% for the People's Republic moggy. There are 24 hours left before the winner is announced.

All this may seem to have nothing whatsoever to do with Res Historica's mission: the examination and discussion of historical topics. I would suggest, however, that we are history in the making. Future generations will wonder how the UK coped during the global pandemic of 2020: agonising over cat names has been vital to keeping the nation reasonably sane. Well, me at least.

Temperance wrote:

All this may seem to have nothing whatsoever to do with Res Historica's mission: the examination and discussion of historical topics.

The Pub is generally exempt from that proviso Temp. If you’re looking for an historical (and topical) angle on the Cat Name World Cup, however, then Mao-Tse-Tung was actually the name of a rat. The notorious rodent was the leader of scourge of rats plaguing the grain supplies aboard the British royal navy sloop HMS Amethyst serving on the Yangtze river in China in 1949. That was, however, until ship’s cat Simon got their measure and despatched them all, including Mao, to the great red rat resting place in the reeds. Later, during shelling of the ship by land-based forces, Simon sustained life-threatening injuries but the plucky moggy pulled thru. Being born in Hong Kong, however, he had to undergo quarantine when first setting foot on English soil after the ship returned home to Devon and a hero’s welcome. Sadly, Simon died later that year from an unknown viral infection believed to have been picked up either from shrapnel in his wounds or maybe even a Parthian shot from Mao himself.

Vizzer, what one learns here everyday on this board...
Kind regards from Paul.

An important announcement from Number 10:




Six weeks ago the #CatNamesWorldCup started with 128 entires - now just one remains.

Ladies and gentlemen, cats and kittens your winner is...
CHAIRMAN MEOW!





PS Vizzer - thank you for the information about Simon - a Cat Hero of the British Empire indeed (think it was still going - just about - in 1949!)

Larry is showing signs of full-blown narcissistic personality disorder. Not even Trump has tweeted anything like this:




With the #CatNamesWorldCup over, we need a new competition. Time to get creative with #FelineFineArt

I’ll post a picture of myself every Monday, to take part just reply with your drawing/painting/sketch of it and I’ll select my favourites on Sunday.


Here's this week's picture.

But he is magnificent - our Constitutional Moggy. A rare political comment from our beloved Lazza this morning:



The only thing this government is testing is my patience...

Magnificat. Larry,   taking it all in his stride looks resplendent.  He must have supreme confidence to look as self satisfied as that.... or has a personality disorder that many a Top Cat feline and otherwise owns to.

As his Res His publicity agent, keep it up, Temps. It's very comforting to see something unchanged by the current kerfuffle. 

Is he tested daily? Cats can get Covid 19. I am not sure what the testing is about because the results are not immediate and only show that you did not have  it a couple of days ago...... but then you might have got it since.  So 64 million tests a day might just help a bit. And if we include cats a few more then.

Quezon City in the Philippines, cats using the social distancing markers:

Slightly different video from Mark Felton:

Thank you for that, Trike - I did enjoy watching it.

I do wonder though if Larry is behind all this - putting out a series of videos as propaganda items. It is disturbing that this is the second such film posted recently on this thread that heralds the approach of Palmerston with dreadful "evil villain" music. Rather unfair on the Foreign Office Diplomog, I think, as he is a beautiful cat who has only just returned after six months off with depression and anxiety. That said, Palmerston has apparently spent lockdown (on furlough), lazing the days away chez some Tory at a posh house in the home counties. Larry meanwhile has remained on duty throughout - a key worker.

Yorkshire Museum has a #CuratorBattle going on on Twitter: they invite museums all over the world to send photos of their "Best Whatever" items. They recently had a "Best Cat" thread, but, you know, I think the Res His Moggy Threads have been better. Some nice items though. One of my favourites - a Roman cat who helped Romulus and Remus survive - shown below (sent in by Leeds City Museum) - also a very fed-up jade cat which is no doubt worth a fortune!

https://twitter.com/hashtag/BestCat?src=hashtag_click

https://twitter.com/YorkshireMuseum/status/1271366948136407041





Love his paws!

I also thank you trike for the film. has it been nominated for an Oscar yet? I think Larry is long overdue one. he has a splendid PR team. 
And thank you, Temps too. I enjoyed browsing through the museum pics also - but none match my last one who had people calling at the house to meet him, so widespread was his reputation for extraordinary accomplishment, personality, attitude with strong dislikes, lord of the castle bouts with   private visiting vet we  paged  all too frquently. We never had another when he died quite young at 10 having spent  many lives beyond his nine. I do not understand what this strong attachment is that some like me have with cats.

Not that anyone is going to be particulalry interested but the sad news is that yesterday evening my eldest cat, Zwartje, died. She was about 26, maybe even 27, so had had a very good run. She, with her mother (Mama Poes) and sister (Vlekje), were inherited from the Belgian owner of the house when we bought it: all three cats had been born and lived their entire lives here, and had worked well as proficient mousers.

Zwartje, although stone deaf in her old age, had been in quite good form until only about two weeks ago when she became noticeably more frail and a bit gaga (like falling asleep in a puddle and needing to be dried off with a hair dryer, which she actually seemed to quite like). She didn't seem to be in any obvious distress or pain and still toddled slowly around the garden, regularly turning up for the evening dinner time with all the others (and I know she was also eating round the neighbours too). But yesterday she spent all day in the same sunny spot in the garden until the late afternoon when it started to rain and so I brought her into the kitchen. She curled up on a fluffy towel in the corner with Doggy-Dog keeping watch and I left the kitchen door open to the garden so the other two could come and go. She died quietly at about six o'clock in the evening.



Meanwhile the boy cat, Tostig, has been in a fight, again. This time he seemed to have sustained an injury to his left eye which was swollen and a bit weepy. But being an aggressive stray he still won't let me approach closely and so I can't get him to the vet. But his eye didn't seem to particularly bother him and, despite being notoriously lazy, he even managed to catch a rat a week ago. Nevertheless, although the weepiness has cleared up, I suspect he's now permanently blind in that eye.

So now as there's just him and the little girl cat, Posca, also a stray, I really need him and her to get it together and produce a couple of kittens, so that they can get them trained up to help in the mousing job. I know they can do it as she's had at least one set of kits last year, although sadly they didn't survive, so fingers crossed for the coming months.

Anyway that's the latest feline dynastic news chez moi.

So sorry to hear that MM.  I'm glad it was peaceful.  I really missed Pebbles (the cat I had until last October) when she passed though Tilly (my present cat) and I have now bonded.  Maybe I mentioned it before but Tilly had been living almost ferally when she was taken in by Cats Protection (although she  nominally had an owner but the owner was locking her out in all weathers).  She was rather shy when I first had her though she didn't attack me or anything.  It's going back a few years but the last time I had a she-cat from when she was a kitten (and had forgotten how relatively young one can get pregnant) she was less than a year old when she came into heat and any entire neighbourhood toms were showing interest.  I daresay Posca will become a mum at some time.

That Tostig sounds like a real roughneck like his Godwinson namesake. Maybe Zwartje's sad demise, however, will now bring him and Posca closer together and the soldier will become a lover. In the meantime commiserations.

MM, as I see Vizzer use it, "commiserations" with your loss.

We had at home many cats, living outside inside. Our house was on a 1000 square meter piece of ground, with plenty of green.
We held only one she cat and the eventual tomcats from her. While it was a busy road immediatly near to our house, these tomcats, were always flattened by the trucks, but not she. So we could nearly every year or two years let live some of her procreation.

With the first partner, we had nearly thirteen years (I think) a she cat, that had to stay indoors. After the divorce I kept the cat, that I called "Minou" as the one of our house, because the partner on an appartment with the new "one", wasn't allowed to have a cat.
Although I wasn't that long alone, but keeping a cat, being alone and nearly always outside (as tomcats), it wasn't easy for me and so I had her to give to the parents (in the meantime her older namesake had died from age and burried in the garden).
And although I helped in the time in the parental home together with the father to kill the newborn surplus cats, after 13 years one has a strong bond with his own cat and it was really with pain in the heart (met pijn in het hart) that I gave her away. But so is life...

KInd regards from Paul.

MM  - my computer router was frizzled by the thunderstorms, so am posting this precariously on my mobile phone. Wanted to commiserate on the loss of your ancient moggy. You are more pragmatic than I, but nevertheless I suspect you would understand what D H Lawrence meant when he wrote of the "tragedy of dead pets". I still mourn Bosworth. I have a stray frequenting my cottage: I am calling him Porchie after Lord Porchester, Her Majesty's racing manager. Porchie is usually in my porch of a morning, so the name seems appropriate.

Hope this is not too full of typos. It's awful without internet - don't know how you manage with your precarious connection...

My hub is okay but like Temperance I am using my mobile phone because my laptop froze this morning and I couldn't re-boot it. I tried the pinhole re-set, no luck.
I did order another laptop last week.  It's a question of waiting till it's ready.  Tilly is an older cat and I think she's been spayed - no signs of being in season all spring and so far this summer. We do get fond of our kitties.

I was quite sad to learn that Bob the street cat who had a book written about him had died on 15th June at an estomated age of 14.

I see Paul has brought up Noam Chomsky over on the language thread. I once had a cat called Chomsky, which must be the most pretentious name ever for a moggy. But I was very young at the time.

Porchester, the stray mentioned above, has disappeared. I had gone off him anyway, as he gave me a rather nasty nip on my ankle the other morning when I attempted to stroke him. Doesn't do to get sentimental about cats; they only take advantage.

Tiger, the Canterbury Cathedral cat - yes him, the bad lad yet again - steals the cream during the Dean of Canterbury's outdoor sermon (6 July 2020).



I think Tiger might be angling for a similarly popular social-media coverage as is currently enjoyed by Larry and Parmerston.

Oh, I loved that, MM! Thank you for posting it. I was longing for Larry to upstage Dominic Cummings a couple a weeks ago during the Rose Garden fiasco, but, alas, someone had realised that Larry doing his business anywhere near Cummings must be avoided at all costs: Larry was securely locked up for the afternoon, well away from the cameras.

That said, the lovely cathedral scene above is quite different - so gentle and funny. I do hope Tiger enjoyed his creamy treat! Whole thing really cheered me up. And the good Dean of Canterbury was quite unfazed by it all - obviously forgave the wicked moggy his transgressions!

I rather gather that the good Dean of Canterbury is well used to Tiger's antics. Apparently a few years ago he, Tiger that is, went missing for a week until he was eventually located, stuck, high up on the Cathedral's roof, and it was the Dean who then went up to rescue him, cheered on from below by the choristers. But I did slander Tiger a bit when I implied it was he that had also upstaged the Dean just a few weeks ago when he did the celebrated disappearing act into the Dean's cassock (mentioned above by yourself, Temp). However that was actually his all-black nephew, Leo. Apparently, according to the cathedral website, there are actually four official Canterbury Cathedral cats.

There are also two cathedral pigs, Winston and Clemmie (great names) who, not to be outdone by the cats, quietly joined in with the Dean's morning prayers on 1st July as porcine props to his sermon based on the Parable of the Prodigal Son:

You see why I still long for the old Church of England? A lovely, gentle Dean who reads in a calming, mellifluous voice while seated in an English wild flower meadow, his obvious love for two incorrigible moggies (Leo and Tiger) and, in this clip, the use of "porcine props" ( ) to illustrate the best parable of them all. I did like Winston's and Clemmie's snorty noises as the Dean read the Psalm to us.

Beat that, all you mad Happy-Clappy lot!

Cinema Quarantino:

I came across a site "News in Easy Spanish" - quite by chance I landed on a page about a cat interrupting a meeting in this case John Nicholson and Rojo.

https://holaquepasa.com/un-gato-interrumpe-una-reunion-del-parlamento-britanico/

Any news on Larry, anyone? Could be having a long furlough as are most of the Civil Service.

What a suggestion! Larry is NOT and has NEVER been on fur-lough: he has remained steadfastly at his post (asleep outside Number 10) throughout the crisis, a key worker.

He did miss this mouse last week, though - bit embarrassing. It was dead, but no one knows who or what killed it...

Feline control of the narrative if ever. The posture  also suggests that Larry has done the job he is paid for, perhaps - with  formal social distancing allowing a further modicum of modesty.  What a poser! And one totally in control of the narrative for the camera.

Priscilla wrote:

Feline control of the narrative if ever... What a poser! And one totally in control of the narrative for the camera.

Priscilla, these are shameful slanders and not worthy of you. Please consider that the dead mouse was probably deliberately planted in Downing Street by Larrry's rival at the Foreign Office - in a Machiavellian attempt to have Larry photographed looking completely useless.

Privilege? Entitlement? Manipulation of the media? Off on six months' paid leave because of "stress" and "being too fat for photographs"? Needs "privacy"? Not Larry. Look no further. Have a read of this. Palmerston is clearly the Meghan Markle of the cat world*.  What Palmerston wants, Palmerston gets.



Palmerston has been off his duties since July because of stress, he was constantly being picked up by staff and had become overweight because he was being fed too many treats. Uh oh.

But now the man in charge of looking after him, Sir Simon McDonald, has written a strict letter to his colleagues warning them that if they do not change their behaviour towards the cat, he may be retired for good.

Staff have been given four rules by Sir Simon now Palmerston is back. He has told them:

1. No-one (apart from his carers) are allowed to feed Palmerston. No Dreamies. No bowls of food under the desk for if he happens to drop by. Nothing!

2. Second, everyone must help keep Palmerston in the 'Palmerston Zone'. He will now manage the offices and area surrounding the Grand Staircase and it will be marked with stickers that say, 'You are entering/leaving the Palmerston Zone'.

3.* Third, everyone must respect Palmerston's personal space. Allow Palmerston to choose whether he wants to interact with you: offer your hand as if you were introducing yourself to a stranger, and allow Palmerston to make the first move. Don't wake him if he is sleeping.

4. Fourth, if he is in Palmerston HQ, he is not to be disturbed. Palmerston is a friendly, outgoing cat, but we all need our privacy.


Larry meanwhile, humble and conscientious, is called a "poser" on Res His Moggy thread! Just so unfair.





"No one ever asks how I am."

That Larry muddles through with splendid aplomb and there being no threat to his post in a written constitution, one must concede. It is possible that a bored and ill paid photographer camped out in front of Number Ten in hope of news worthy activity  planted the dead mouse to get something that, with the nations interest in cats,  get a paid viewing somewhere. I hope he washed his hands. Of course the name and well being of the Number two in any outfit is of now interest. Quick  now - who is the deputy Prime Minister, eh?

Palmerston has thrown in the towel  at the Foreign Office and has retired to the country. ... where,  it is claimed he enjoys climbing trees.  That is par for any one who has been in UK Foreign Office Service - many start early in their career to get ready for being put to pasture. Some in fact, rarely come down to earth again. Will he be replaced? Not by a kitten, surely.

Below is reproduced Palmerston's resignation announcement, the letter sent to Sir Simon McDonald, the Permanent Under-Secretary at the Foreign and Commonwealth Office.

I am very distressed that this lovely moggy is going: one more change to cope with in these miserable times. Even Larry, magnanimous(e) as ever, has expressed his sorrow that his old rival is leaving the corridors of power.

The news was reported by the BBC and by all the major UK papers, also the Washington Post. The dreadful headline in The Sun was Cat's It!

But is the narrative being controlled here? Is this another typical example of Cummings' perfidy? Has Palmerston been got rid of because he knows something - knows too much? Note the hint in P.'s letter: "My signature move: pretending to be asleep while overhearing all the foreign dignitaries' conversations will be a major loss for our intelligence gathering."

Izvestiya so far has failed to comment.

Indeed, see my 'Great Historical Captions Challenge' response.

I certainly don't see Dominic Cummings as a cat person: nor indeed as a dog person unless that be a pitbull or rottweiler (although I've known an incredibly loyal, gentle and affectionate rottweiler, so one shouldn't tar the breed by association with the Prince of Darkness), perhaps he's more vulpine, being sly and cunning like a fox as well as likely to cause utter carnage if he ever gets into the henhouse.

I have an appointment to take my cat back to the vet tomorrow.  The problem wasn't a thyroid condition - it's renal failure.  It can't be cured but is being managed conservatively with special food.  I've only had her 6 months and I didn't expect it to be anything that serious.  Anyway, the vet wanted to see her again after a fortnight which is tomorrow (pre-arranged appointment).  She's still eating anyway and I saw her jumping around after something in the garden this afternoon.  She didn't have a blood test at either of her inspections/injections when I took her on from Cats* Protection - the condition showed up when she had some bloods taken a fortnight ago.  The vet said unfortunately the condition doesn't show until the kidneys have deteriorated by 75%.  Sorry to be a misery.  Maybe someone else will lighten the thread with the exploits of a/some parliamentary cat/s.

My kitty seems to be jogging along okay.   Sometimes she will eat the special kidney food readily (like today) - sometimes I have to resort to bribery and corruption by mixing it with something like the Sheba soupy food.  Like her human slave she is on a blood pressure tablet now.

People averse to silliness look away, but I enjoyed this parody of Pulp Fiction starring Owlkitty.

Doing a Tesco delivery order I lazily put fish in the search and got really excited when I found many really good and interesting items - and all were for cats it turned out Take care, folks... the clue is often Pouch in the title. I await the arrival of white coated people at the door in plain unmarked van. We do not have a cat.