We asked six cats what they think about the possibility of humanity worshiping their species again.
It’s said that the people of ancient Egypt venerated cats as deities and treated them with the utmost respect in addition to pampering them, granting them access to pharaonic palaces and feeding them from the pharaoh’s own kitchens.
Cats have not forgotten their elevated status in ancient Egypt, even thousands of years later, and they yearn for a return to the days when they were served with veneration rather than simply being served.
Should humans worship cats as they did in ancient Egypt?
“I don’t see how that would be any different than the arrangement we have now.”
Sofi Sen Hotep Re, 5
“If it means I get a golden litter box, several cat-size palaces, a summer residence on the Nile and more servants, then naturally, yes.”
Catshepsut, 7
“Of course they should worship us! Who else are they going to worship, dogs? LOL!”
Catthor, 2
“I shall have my human servants wear loinclothes and brand them with my name, just to remind them who’s boss.”
Ca’at, 8
“What do Egyptian gods eat? Was Osiris into turkey? Because I like turkey.”
Buddeses I, 9
“I’m willing to model for a new Great Sphinx of Giza since the old one was defaced by some ridiculous human replacing a cat’s face with his own.”
100 years ago today, Howard Carter found a tomb filled with statues of cats, as well as the mummy of some guy named King Tut!
Howard Carter’s peers felt sorry for him.
The British archaeologist’s contemporaries watched him dig in Egypt’s Valley of the Kings year after year, grid by grid in what they were sure was a fruitless search for something that didn’t exist. Everyone knew the sand-covered necropolis had yielded all of its secrets. Everyone knew Carter was wasting his time — and the funds of his patron, the Earl of Carnarvon — looking for the tomb of an obscure, apocryphal boy king who allegedly ruled Egypt for nine years in deep antiquity.
After 15 years, the partnership between Carter and Carnarvon was about to end. Even the wealthy aristocrat had his limits, and after so much time and effort chasing an apparent mirage, Carnarvon declared he would pay for one final season of archaeological work in 1922.
Carter had been laboring in the necropolises along the Nile since he was a young boy and apprentice to the great archaeologists of his time. Aside from seasons that were cut short by war, the Egyptologist had spent three decades digging in those valleys. Now he was about to be out of a job and a patron.
Howard Carter’s discovery made him the most famous archaeologist in history, but it also left him with the incredible task of preserving and cataloguing everything in the more than 3,000-year-old tomb. Here’s a page from Carter’s notes about a statue of Anubis. Credit: Wikimedia Commons
Exactly 100 years ago today, Carter wrote a terse entry in his journal: “First steps of tomb found.”
Those steps descended to a door of limestone and plaster, marking the entrance to an antechamber. A second doorway lay sealed in the gloom, and after dispatching a letter imploring Carnarvon to make haste to Egypt, Carter waited for the arrival of his patron and chipped away at the second door, peering through a tiny hole.
With trembling hands I made a tiny breach in the upper left-hand corner. Darkness and blank space, as far as an iron testing-rod could reach, showed that whatever lay beyond was empty, and not filled like the passage we had just cleared. Candle tests were applied as a precaution against possible foul gases, and then, widening the hole a little, I inserted the candle and peered in, Lord Carnarvon, Lady Evelyn and Callender standing anxiously beside me to hear the verdict. At first I could see nothing, the hot air escaping from the chamber causing the candle flame to flicker, but presently, as my eyes grew accustomed to the light, details of the room within emerged slowly from the mist, strange animals, statues, and gold – everywhere the glint of gold.
The earl, sensing a shift in Carter’s mood, queried him: “Do you see anything?”
Carter paused to collect himself before answering.
“Yes,” he said. “Wonderful things!”
The rest is history.
It turned out the room Carter first glimpsed was yet another antechamber. It had been breached in antiquity and tomb robbers had taken some of its valuables before resealing it, but they hadn’t breached a second chamber, the one that contained what are now the most famous finds in archaeological history: The iconic gold funerary mask of King Tutankhamun, the ornate sarcophagus inscribed with prayers from the Egyptian book of the dead, a life-size statue of the boy pharaoh and other statuary, impeccably designed furniture, vases, funerary candle holders, textiles, canopic jars, even chariots and a model ship. There were cats too, including statues of felids big and small.
A second coffin made of wood and gold encased the pharaoh’s body and was placed within the sarcophagus.
Everything was gilded, and everywhere Carter’s torch cast light was the glitter of gold. He had been vindicated. Subsequent rulers had almost erased Tut’s name from history, and many doubted he was a historical figure. Now Carter not only proved the boy pharaoh was real, he had discovered the best-preserved tomb in history, ignited renewed interest in ancient Egypt, and unearthed objects that would leave indelible marks on human culture.
For more about Carter’s historic discovery, King Tutankhamun himself and the impact of the incredible discovery as the world celebrates its 100th anniversary, here’s some further reading:
The funerary mask of King Tutankhamun is perhaps the most recognizable and iconic artifact from ancient Egypt. Credit: Wikimedia Commons
A sculpture of a leopard found in Tutankhamun’s tomb. Cats were important in ancient Egypt, and feline/felid imagery abounds in depictions of deities, statuary and motifs. Credit: Wikimedia Commons
The intact sarcophagus, which is covered in etchings and hieroglyphs, occupied a hidden room buried beneath the sand for more than 3,000 years. What do cats think of this important discovery?
In what archaeologists are calling a “dream discovery,” a team digging in the sands of the Saqqara necropolis south of Cairo found a tomb with a hidden room containing an intact, 3,200-year-old sarcophagus covered in hieroglyphs. The tomb was the burial site of a high-ranking official, the kingdom’s treasurer, who served the celebrated and long-ruling Pharaoh Ramesses II.
What do you think about this important discovery?
“Did you know Ramesses II not only conquered part of Syria and annexed territory from the Hittite empire, but he also defeated an army of pirates? I dabble in archaeology when I get bored watching birds outside the window.” – Hester, 8, house panther
“That rogue Carter thinks he can outdo me with this sarcophagus nonsense? Everyone knows I am the superior archaeologist!” – Mortimer Augustus Furfellow, 13, professor emeritus
“Wow, this Egypt place is a HUGE litterbox! Litter as far as the eye can see!” – Sammy, 5, box enthusiast
“Put it back! Seal it up! What’s wrong with you people, haven’t you seen The Mummy?!” – Nervous Norman, 10, overgroomer
“CHECK IT OUT, MY TONGUE HAS LITTLE SWORDS ON IT! EN GARDE!” – Gingerbread, 10 months, biologist kitten
“That was more than 2,700 years before the discovery of the New World and its most valuable resource, turkey. Pity the ancient Egyptians, for they never tasted the glorious bird.” – Angel, 3, foodie
The name Buddy is bestowed only on the most promising of cats, according to Buddy,
Dear Buddy,
How’d you get your name?
Cool Cat in Cleveland
Dear Cool Cat,
My servant tells me my name is one of great distinction in Humanese, conferred only on those of spectacular repute.
For example there was the renowned Pharaoh, Buddeses II, who oversaw the construction of the Great Sphinx. In Italy, Buddissimo of Naples achieved worldwide fame for his paintings, his numerous inventions and his delicious stone-baked pepperoni pizzas.
In the 17th century Sir Buddington the Bold, Earl of Budderset, was famed for his exploits as an explorer, while Count Buddeaux of Marseilles was known as a playboy, an expert defenestrator and the father of pâté.
In ancient Greece, Buddimedes the Spartan was one of the famous 300 warriors who, under the command of the great cat Leonidas, kept a horde of a million Persians from crossing the narrow pass at Thermopylae. They say the distressed meows of those Persians could be heard for miles as the Spartans pushed them into the sea, where they were forced to catch dinner themselves instead of having tins opened for them.
The name was also popular in Japan, especially among skilled swordsmen like the legendary Buddimoto Mewsashi.
More recently there was Buddy Holly, Buddy Guy and Buddy Miles, musicians all. (I play a bit of guitar myself, reaching out to pluck strings when Big Buddy is strumming away on his axe.)
I’ve often thought about my own legacy in the pantheon of Buddies.
Will I be known as Buddy the Eloquent in honor of my skill with language? Perhaps Buddy the Beefcake in recognition of my muscular physique? Or maybe something modest like Buddy the Brave for my legendary fearlessness?
My human didn’t choose my name, it simply manifested as it became clear I am the next Great Buddy.
I feel the power and the importance of this lineage every day, and it gives me motivation to be the greatest cat I can be.
That means I don’t do anything half-assed, including napping. My Big Buddy says I have elevated napping to an art form. Perhaps history will remember me as Buddy the Magnificent Napper.
“Noooo! We surrender, okay? Just don’t hurt the cats!”
Before the great civilizational clashes at Thermopylae, Plataea and Salamis, there was Pelusium.
The strategically important city on the Nile Delta was where the Egyptians under Pharoah Psametik III made their stand against the invading armies of Cambyses II, the king of Persia, in 525 BCE.
Amasis II was the last great Egyptian pharaoh before Persian King Cambyses defeated his son, Psametik II, and took that title for himself, beginning two centuries of Persian rule over Egypt.
It was a sound decision: Pelusium was heavily fortified, with high stone walls and ramparts. The pharaoh dedicated tens of thousands of men to the city’s defense, lining the ramparts with archers, stone throwers and catapults designed to launch flaming projectiles at the attacking, lightly-armored Persians.
For his part, Cambyses faced the prospect of a long siege or a bloody frontal assault that would cost thousands of lives as his men were tasked with scaling the walls under fire.
But the Persian king knew the Egyptians were not only famously fond of cats, they believed cats were representations of deities.
In a shrewd early example of psychological warfare, Cambyses figured out a way to use felines to his advantage in battle.
Cats were everywhere in ancient Egypt: Goddesses like Sekhmet and Bastet were portrayed as lion- and cat-headed, while Egyptian artists and craftsmen produced statues, rings, pendants and hieroglyphic cartouches with feline imagery. The beloved pets of royalty and other powerful Egyptians were buried in their own elaborate sarcophagi, while regular people mourned the deaths of their family cats by shaving notches in their eyebrows.
An image of the Egyptian cat goddess Sekhmet carved in relief among hieroglyphic inscriptions.
Cats are found in virtually every significant ancient Egyptian archaeological site, often elaborately mummified alongside their humans, and Egypt is home to the largest and most enduring cat statue in the world, the Great Sphinx. Not only do weathering patterns show the Sphinx is older than previously thought, it’s believed the Sphinx was originally carved with a cat’s head, then later defaced in the image of a pharaoh. That theory is supported by the fact that the head is disproportionately small compared to the Sphinx’s body, indicating it was carved down from its original form.
An Egyptian hieroglyph for “miu,” an umbrella word for “cat” that could mean domestic or wild cats, including big cats.
Cambyses realized there was a way to turn the Egyptian fondness for all things feline to his advantage: He had his men round up thousands of cats and carry them into battle as if they were just another part of the soldier’s kit along with weapons and armor.
If they opted to fight they would be killing sacred animals who were avatars of some of their most important gods. If they surrendered Egypt would be subsumed into the growing Achaemenid Empire, joining the Medians, Babylonians, Elamites and other once-proud nations in bending the knee to Persia’s king.
An artist’s depiction of the battle shows Cambyses atop a horse as his men catapult cats over the city walls.
They chose the latter, bringing about two centuries of Persian rule in Egypt and leaving the Persians with no remaining obstacles between them and the loose confederation of city-states of Greece.
The kitties, however, would have their revenge against the Persians, for it was a man named Leonidas (“lion”) who led the fabled Spartan warriors to the narrow mountain pass of Thermopylae, where they and a few thousand fellow Greeks held the pass for three days against an invading Persian army that was the largest fighting force the world had ever seen. (Herodotus, the Greek historian prone to patriotic exaggeration, said the Persians were a million strong, drinking entire rivers dry en route to mainland Greece. Modern historians put the number at about 300,000.)
Regardless, the Lion of Sparta and his men inflicted so many casualties on the Persians that the latter’s morale was shattered, and held the pass long enough to give the other Greeks time to muster their army.
When the Persians finally broke through they sacked Athens and rampaged through Attica, until they met an unstoppable force: All of Greece united under the co-leadership of Athens and Sparta, with 50,000 pissed off Spartan Peers leading the defense. The combined forces of the Greek city-states routed the invading army.
We’re sure the Greeks broke out plenty of catnip for their kitties to join in the resulting celebration, and Herodotus just forgot to include that little detail in his histories.
Pain In The Bud 