The Chief Mouser of No. 10 Downing St. is still going strong after 13 years on the job.
At first it didn’t seem like Larry the Cat would last.
The then-four-year-old moggie was adopted from a London rescue because of his apparent predatorial skill and in November of 2011 was appointed Chief Mouser at No. 10 Downing St., the UK prime minister’s office and residence.
The prime minister and his staff hoped the highly-touted feline would rid them of a persistent rodent problem. It was so bad that when a mouse scurried into view during a state dinner in late 2011, Prime Minister David Cameron tossed a fork at it in frustration, and staff set about looking for a more comprehensive solution than the usual traps.
Larry arrived to great fanfare but had to remind the humans who’s boss first. He was almost an hour late to his public introduction because he was napping, then took a swipe at a news reporter trying to get in a live shot with him.
In his first weeks on the job, the imperious tabby made a big show of dozing off in public view, often on the window sill of No. 10. During his waking hours he was much more keen on visiting his “lady friend,” next door mouser Maisie, than he was on performing his official duties.
Larry the Cat. Credit: No. 10 Downing St./Wikimedia Commons
The chief mouser eventually found his hunting groove, and almost thirteen years later four prime ministers have come and gone, but Larry remains.
Rishi Sunak, the fifth prime minister of the Larry Era, called elections for July 10 and if his conservative party — currently behind in the polls — doesn’t maintain control of the House of Commons after the votes are counted, Larry will wave goodbye to Sunak and welcome the sixth prime minister under his watch.
Larry’s outlasted David Cameron, Theresa May, Liz Truss and Boris Johnson. Sunak assumed office in 2022.
At this point, No. 10 Downing St. should probably be renamed Larry’s House.
He seems to have a knack for knowing who’s going to stick around and who won’t last. When Truss bent down to pet Larry shortly after assuming office in late 2022, Larry gave her the cold shoulder. Truss lasted only 50 days, the shortest tenure of any prime minister in UK history.
The famous little guy is now 17 years old, but the staff who feed and care for him, and the veterinarians who help keep him in mouse-hunting shape, say he’s hale and healthy.
If the next prime minister is smart, he or she should look to Larry for advice on enduring popularity — and political survival.
Header photo of former US President Barack Obama and former UK Prime Minister David Cameron with Larry the Cat credit: Peter Souza/Official White House photo.
Larry, perched on the window sill on the left, photobombed former Prime Minister Theresa May during a visit by former US President Donald Trump and First Lady Melania Trump. Credit: White House press photo/Wikimedia CommonsLarry was looking strong as he patrolled his territory in December of 2023. Credit: Justin Ng/Twitter
The new puma will have big paw prints to fill if it decides to make its famous predecessor’s range its own. People in Los Angeles are thrilled to have another mountain lion prowling the Hollywood Hills.
When the mountain lion known as P-22 died in late 2022, people in Los Angeles were so distraught they painted murals of him on building facades, buried him after a indigenous tribal funeral and even held a festival in his honor.
The famous feline had already been the subject of books, documentaries and an iconic photograph by National Geographic’s Steve Winter. The image showed P-22 in mid-stride, perfectly centered in a small pool of light beneath the Hollywood sign in the hills of Los Angeles at night. It was a natural symbol of wildlife adapting and surviving.
The love for P-22 wasn’t only based on the incredible fact that a mountain lion had established his “range” in Griffith Park, an oasis of wilderness surrounded by urban landscapes. The puma had to cross Interstate 405 and Route 101, heavy-traffic highways that are famously lethal to his species, to get there. For the next decade he skillfully avoided cars and trucks as he went about his business, popping up on trail cameras or in the backyards of Los Angelinos.
Now there’s a potential successor to the vacant throne.
The new puma isn’t collared and wildlife experts don’t know where it came from, but like P-22 it had to cross several dangerous highways to reach the city.
It’s not clear yet if the mountain lion is male or female. Jeff Sikitch, a biologist with the National Parks Service who is part of an ongoing, decades-long study of pumas, told the Los Angeles Times that he thinks the cat is likely a young male, but there’s not much to go on so far except for witness sightings and a low-resolution video taken by a man who lives in an apartment building near the edge of Griffith Park.
“Will this cat be as skilled as P-22 was at avoiding cars for a decade?” the National Wildlife Federation’s Beth Pratt told the BBC. “We don’t know what’s going to happen here.”
The only images of the newcomer so far are grainy video stills, but Griffith Park itself has trail cameras that are used to monitor wildlife. Credit: Vladimir Polumiskov
For now, wildlife officials are waiting and watching to see if the potential puma successor puts down roots in P-22’s old hunting grounds or tries to make the dangerous trek out of the city.
If the new puma decides to stay, it will enjoy plentiful deer and a benefit most members of its species do not have — a local population that understands mountain lion attacks are extraordinarily rare, and will support them by giving them a wide berth.
On the other hand, despite the 4,000 acres of Griffith Park and the residential neighborhoods below, the cat’s inherited range would be much smaller than what’s typical for the species. Like humans cramming belongings into apartments, pumas sacrifice space when they live in or around cities.
Suzanne Pye, a local who admired P-22 from afar, said she welcomes the newcomer and isn’t worried about attacks on people. The presence of a mountain lion after almost 18 months without one prowling the hills, she said, will add “a frisson of excitement to the morning hikes.”
A close-up of P-22 in 2019, when he was briefly captured for a health check-up. Credit: Wikimedia Commons
“Oh, did the Earth shake? I hardly noticed?” Buddy remarked.
So apparently the crinkling of a paper bag is terrifying, but the Earth shaking is no big deal.
The New York area experienced a 4.8-magnitude earthquake today. For a fleeting moment I thought maybe some idiot had hit the building with a tractor trailer or something, but as the rumbles continued I realized it had to be natural. Only Mother Nature has that kind of power.
I looked over at Bud, expecting to hear a terrified whimper any second, but he was just laying on my bed with his head up, annoyed that he’d been woken up.
His eyes met mine and I got the sense he was asking me: “Are we good here? Do I have to get up and run around screaming, or is this merely a rude interruption of my nap?”
“Good boy,” I said, trying to show him I wasn’t scared either.
In truth I was, just a bit. I suppose there must have been earthquakes around here in my childhood, but I can’t remember them. Even though this one was on the lower range of the Richter scale, as I’d later learn, when you’re not accustomed to earthquakes there’s a moment of surprise and understanding when you realize, for all our tech and the leaps we’ve taken as a species, we are ultimately powerless against forces like this.
It’s a feeling you’ll never get from seeing an earthquake on TV. You have to feel the ground shake to appreciate your own powerlessness.
In any case, this was definitely Bud’s first earthquake and I’m proud of the little guy. If you’d asked me before today how he’d likely respond, I would not have guessed he would be stoic.
Matt Damon rescued a stray living on the periphery of a Costa Rican jungle.
Matt Damon stopped by the Late Show With Stephen Colbert this week, and somehow they got on the topic of Damon’s cat.
The Oppenheimer actor described how he and his wife gained the feline’s trust while staying at an AirBnB in Costa Rica. The cat, who was living on the edge of the nearby jungle and “fighting for his life every night,” gratefully accepted food from the Damons and grew to trust them over the month they spent at the rental.
“By the end we were like, ‘We have to take this cat. This guy’s gonna die. Now he’s relying on us.'”
It turns out the little brawler was done with living rough and enthusiastically took to the life of a pampered house cat.
“He moves into our house, and I’m thinking ‘I have a little yard out in LA, it’ll be great out there [for him],'” Damon told Colbert. “He never went outside ever again.”
Damon’s cat had a serious health scare, but the story has a happy ending and it’s better to hear Damon tell it, so turn up your speakers/headphones:
Yes, Damon’s cat may be “jacked,” and he may even be the Arnold Schwarzenegger of felines, but surely he doesn’t compare to the OG of ripped and meowscular cats.
From the military camps where they stop mice from wreaking havoc to social media where they help raise money, Ukraine’s felines are enduring the war alongside their people.
Roman Sinicyn and his men were living in an abandoned house in a destroyed village for a month.
Although each of the Ukrainian soldiers contributed to their survival and fought the Russians, perhaps their biggest hero was Syrsky the Cat.
The fearless feline evicted a rodent infestation in the platoon’s temporary headquarters, hunting the mice mercilessly as his humans engaged in firefights with invading Russians. By day Syrsky made the soldiers’ temporary lodgings livable and by night he soothed their trauma with healing purrs.
The cheese-loving moggie’s moniker is a double-entendre: he’s named for Ukrainian Army Land Forces Commander Oleksandr Syrsky, and for the Ukrainian word for cheese, syr.
A new story from Politico EU details the important role of felines as the costly war enters its third year. Russian missiles, bombs and artillery have flattened villages, sending civilians fleeing and often separating them from their families and their pets.
The bewildered cats and dogs, accustomed to easy lives indoors, are suddenly thrust into a world of death, explosions, mine fields and other horrors.
As the war endured past its early phases, former pets began seeking out humans where they could find them — in military camps and in the rodent-infested trenches where they hunkered down against the constant thunderclaps of Russian artillery.
During peak war season in the summer, Vladimir Putin’s bedraggled military fires up to 20,000 artillery rounds a day according to the Associated Press, with that number dipping to “only” 7,000 per day as the war machine slows in brutally cold Slavic winters.
Oleksandr Liashuk, a Ukrainian soldier, with his cat Shaybyk. Credit: Oleksandr Liashuk
Just like they did 10,000 years ago when they first domesticated themselves, cats proved their worth by chasing out mice and rats, but this time they didn’t have to convince humans to allow them to stick around. They were welcomed with open arms and hands bearing snacks, serving as hunters and therapy animals to men enduring a living hell.
“When this scared little creature comes to you, seeking protection, how could you say no? We are strong, so we protect weaker beings, who got into the same awful circumstances as we did, just because Russians showed up on our land,” Oleksandr Yabchanka, a Ukrainian medic, told Politico.
It’s amazing how a return to primitive circumstances has so quickly pushed humans back toward reliance on animals who made it possible for our species to survive in the first place.
Without dogs, early hunter-gatherers would have been much worse off on the hunt and their groups would have been much more susceptible to ambush when they slept. Indigenous societies eking out existences on the tundra would have no reliable animals to pull sleds. Without oxen to pull plows, farmers wouldn’t be able to produce enough food for civilization to thrive and grow.
And the people of nascent human settlements, taking the first great leap forward for our species with the invention of agriculture, would have starved out over long winters as mice and rats gnawed away at their food stores — if not for cats, our furry friends.
In 2024 humans can’t live without cats once again. Felines patrol Ukraine’s World War I style bunkers, killing hordes of mice. Mice that otherwise devour MREs, chew through comm link and power wires, damage weapons and make soldiers miserable.
A Ukrainian soldier with a stray kitten. Credit: Ukraine Ministry of Defense
Some cats become unofficial unit mascots and good luck charms, but many others are claimed by individual soldiers who find normalcy and relief in their company.
One soldier/cat pair are viral sensations thanks to videos of the alert cat riding along with his human, scanning the terrain ahead. Another story detailed a patrol whose men just avoided an ambush thanks to their company’s cat, who spotted the enemy first and frantically warned that something was wrong.
In that way, cats are serving the propaganda effort as well, helping the public to connect to the men and women defending them.
Military cats have become signals for Ukrainians to rally around, but Russians are doing it too. Russia is a famously cat-loving country, and Putin’s government has latched onto stories about the felines accompanying his men into battle — an effort that Politico notes is meant to humanize Russian soldiers and create the impression that it values them even as it continues to conscript unwilling civilians and ship them to the front line “meat grinders” with a few weeks’ worth of training, meager supplies and minimal ammunition for their rifles.
In that respect, the soldiers of Ukraine and Russia have at least two things in common — they love their feline companions, and they’re enduring hell as well as a high risk of death because of one small man’s delusions of greatness and legacy. Western media tends to ignore the humanity of Russian conscripts, and the pro-Ukrainian side of the internet calls them “orcs,” painting them as the mindless and disposable drones of a bloodthirsty dictator.
But they’re human too, with their own hopes and fears, and mothers back home worrying about them. They don’t want to be there. It seems fanciful to imagine Russians refusing to continue the invasion when Putin has squads behind the front lines with guns pointed at his own men to prevent them from deserting or refusing to fight. But maybe the men in the trenches can come together over shared interest and shared love of cats, and help put an end to three years of misery.
