At first it didn’t look as if Larry the Cat’s tenure would last long.
The striking white and tabby mix came highly recommended from Battersea Cats and Dogs, a London shelter whose staff said he was one of their most skilled little hunters. Larry, they said, would adjust well to the busy surroundings of the prime minister’s office and residence.
Adjust he did, but not in the way then-Prime Minister David Cameron, No. 10’s staff, and the UK press thought he would. Larry began his tenure by taking long naps on the residence’s front windowsill, paying frequent visits to his “lady friend” Maisie — a mouser living in another government building several doors down — and establishing a territorial rivalry with Palmerston, the Foreign Office’s mascot and mouser.
“In a separate development, it can be revealed that Larry has a girlfriend,” a droll BBC report from 2011 confirmed, while reporting on a cat-themed quiz night fundraiser at No. 10 to ensure the chief mouser’s yums cupboard remained stocked. “Maisie, a cat who lives at the nearby St James’ Park keeper’s cottage, has struck up a relationship with Larry, a spokesman for the Royal Parks has confirmed.
“There is, though, no prospect of kittens, as Larry went under the knife some time ago,” the report continued, speculating that the chief mouser’s love life could explain “why Larry spends most evenings out – and most days fast asleep in 10 Downing Street.”
It didn’t take long for the press to begin running tongue-in-cheek stories about Larry failing to deliver on promises just like every other political animal, and for a while it looked like No. 10 would need another chief rodent exterminator.
But then Larry began covering himself in glory by defending his new domicile not only from rats and mice, but also from a fox, territorial incursions by Palmerston, ill-intentioned politicians and other undesirables.
As the years passed, Larry’s legend grew. He outlasted Cameron, then Cameron’s successor, Theresa May, who admitted she was a dog person and wasn’t fond of Larry, even denying him the use of her office chair for naps. Then there was Boris Johnson, Liz Truss, Rishi Sunak, and Keir Starmer.
Starmer is Larry’s sixth prime minister, and no one will be surprised if his tenure ends while Larry’s endures. Meanwhile, Palmerston was “retired” to the countryside and only recently returned to politics when he accompanied his human, Andrew Murdoch, to Bermuda when the latter was appointed governor there. Such is the price of incurring Larry’s wrath.
Now at 18 years old, with 15 years as chief mouser under his collar, Larry represents something rare in modern politics: stability and predictability. With the passing of Queen Elizabeth II in 2022, illness and scandal in the royal family, and the usual ephemeral nature of UK politics, Larry has become more important than ever as the stalwart in the country’s seat of power.
Larry’s given the cold shoulder to Irish and Scottish politicians, nuzzled up for scritches from former US President Barack Obama, and forced President Donald Trump to wait before departing No. 10 while taking refuge from the rain under the president’s limo. The famous feline rarely leaves the public guessing when it comes to his thoughts on visiting political figures.
He’s “the most miserable animal you’ll ever meet,” a snubbed Ian Murray, the Scottish Secretary, said after Larry refused to pose for photographs with him. (Murray, it should be noted, was relieved of his post in September, and now holds the lofty title of minister for “culture, media and sport.” Perhaps he and Palmerston can commiserate.)
But that’s part of Larry’s appeal. The chief mouser’s unimpressed reaction to powerful figures has endured him to the public, who shower him with fan mail, treats and toys.
His unintentionally comedic adventures and ability to nap under any circumstances won him the affection of the notoriously fickle UK press, who enjoy watching, photographing and writing about his antics while waiting for the less popular humans inside to update them on the big news of the day.
That’s not hyperbole, by the way: a 2024 Ipsos poll found Larry is more popular than every prime minister to share his home, and the margins aren’t even close.
It also hasn’t escaped the notice of the press that Larry “rules the roost,” and has attentive staff who open the door at No. 10 any time he wants to go in or out. The famous door is actually a blast-proof, steel replica of the wooden original, custom manufactured after the IRA fired a mortar at the residence in 1991. Thus there’s no cat flap, and staff monitoring the door from inside open it as soon as the building’s most enduring resident decides he wants back in.
The prime minister may be the UK’s most powerful political figure on paper, but Larry’s tenure, run of the place, array of servants and adoring fans all prove he’s the real power at No. 10.
Now Larry’s legend will expand even further as the UK’s Channel 4 has commissioned a documentary series on cats from writer-comedian David Baddiel. The series, which is currently filming, will feature Larry in one of its episodes.
Happy 18th birthday, Larry! We hope you see many more years filled with treats, adventures, historic furniture to nap on, and politicians to push around. And if you achieve world peace while you’re at it, no one would be surprised.
Image credits: Wikimedia Commons/UK government
Pain In The Bud 