Where have all the cats gone

India 19-03-11:

It was just a sensation at first, a feeling that something was missing, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Within the cities and towns we visited in India, in an almost Disney-esque way, there was a world of animals, of all shapes and sizes, perhaps waiting to burst into song, perhaps just wanting to communicate or perhaps just striving to exist, but always almost magical.

And yet something was not quite right…a question, a gap in this world, hovered on the edges of your consciousness, trying to catch your attention – an itch waiting to be scratched.

Something was missing from this almost magical world.

With hindsight, it must have started when we first arrived in India, staggering around Leh, high on mild altitude sickness…but at the time, all I noticed was that there were dogs everywhere.

The surreal, magical quality of the animals wasn’t something that was immediately obvious because, after all, stray dogs are a common sight in many cities of the world.

Until you realize that these dogs are happy.

Some are skinny, some are limping, some have matted hair, but all of them are relaxed.

There is no tension, no wariness or aggression towards people. They lie there sunbathing and they wag their tales at you if they notice you – they are living in perfect harmony with people. There seems to be a mutual fondness. They are not pets or loved or hugely cared for, but they are respected as living creatures and their place in the scheme of things seems to be accepted, not resented.

And yes, mind starved of oxygen, I would not have been surprised to have heard one beckon me – “psst. Over here” – round the corner, into a dark bar to be confronted with poker playing hounds serenaded by Jessica Rabbit style singers.

And this made me happy.

Suddenly I was walking around in an already magical India with my head harbouring its own little world of surreal talking dogs, parallel to the reality of these animals being such a huge part of the harsh reality – the hustle and bustle and dirt and grime – of this wonderful country.

For there is no doubt that such a relaxed way of life for the dogs did not continue once we left the Himalayas.

Normality resumed in Mathura.

Children chased, adults occasionally kicked out and animals had that wary look in their eyes as you passed.

Don’t get me wrong, I have seen much much worse in other countries. I guess as the quality of life for the humans decreases – there appeared to be no real slums in Leh – so it does for the animals. Yet despite this, they are fundamentally treated with respect and their quality of life is far higher than I would have expected.

It was fascinating to watch this eco system within the cities – a true variety of animals, living and thriving amongst the concrete and traffic and filth.

There were the cows, of course. Wandering aimlessly through the traffic, be it the dual carriageways or back roads. Water buffalo lounging in the muddy ponds until they were herded through the busy streets at the end of the day. Peacocks strutting their stuff and chipmunks scurrying around. Rats thriving without bothering to hide. Monkeys – or rather macaques – hissing and growling, begging and stealing. Kites hovering above your head battling it out with the crows, while goats and sheep graze on whatever greenery, thorny plants or rubbish they can find.

Yet…and yet…still there was that sense that something was missing.

Then it hit me.

There were no cats.

None.

No strays, no pets, nothing.

I looked, believe me, because once aware of it, there was no ignoring it as it gnawed away, scratching around the peripheries of my consciousness.

Cats are the ultimate when it comes to surviving these situations…they thrive in other countries and cities around the world…so where were they? Was it religious? Have they never existed in India? Have they dwindled? Been eaten? Anyone?

There I was, convinced I was on to something – on the verge of a huge discovery, something no one had ever noticed before…when, on our penultimate night in Mathura, I was walking back through town around midnight, after a long day taking photographs…

In the distance I could hear a lone dog barking – an excited, playful, yet unsure bark.

The type of bark that can only mean one thing!

As I walked, the barking got closer, my heart beat faster with anticipation and curiosity pulled me onwards.

The street was dark apart from one lamp post and, as if in a film, under the single cone of light was the dog.

Tail wagging, its single, isolated barks were playful, yet tinged with insecurity and doubt…some primal instinct telling it to chase, bark, play, kill, anything, something, anything, just please, stop ignoring me…and there…on top of the wall sat a kitten, small, sweet, nonchalant and innocent.

With just the right amount of disdain and superiority it looked up from the dog it was busy pretending to ignore, looked me in the eyes, blinked once, yawned, stretched and went back to sitting there, existing in a place where cats do not exist.

Latest

Blog_Cover_Swarm_500x345

Swarm

It was as simple as ‘get to the top of Finland and turn left’.  At least that is

Blog_Odadahraun_Desert_Iceland_Aug_2015

Blink and you’ll miss it

Iceland. Never has the essence of a country so closely resembled the way in which I see the

F01-33D_blog_cover

Under the Stars in Madagascar

There are times when writing about memories from as far back as my eighteenth year feels wrong. How

Blog_Viewpoints_Cover

Viewpoints

The Rooftop Collective exhibition edition VI Tempus Fugit. So they say. Here we are again, another Rooftop Collective

Memories

Blog_F25-46B

Speedometers and Bikes

When cycling around Eastern Europe it was very low-tech for Morgan and I. Our decision was spur of

Map_of_Hungary

Cycling into Hungary

Eighteen years old, Morgan and I had decided to cycle to Eastern Europe from Milan, our home at

Leh_March_2011

Cold, tired and high in Ladakh

India 16-03-11 It wasn’t that cold. Or rather it didn’t feel that cold. It was dry, drier than

F01-33D_blog_cover

Under the Stars in Madagascar

There are times when writing about memories from as far back as my eighteenth year feels wrong. How

Randomly Selected

Blog_Putting_your_foot_in_it

Putting Your Foot In It

Some things in life are constant. As babies we grow into childhood, dependant on certain things not changing.

Blog_Ramberts_Ghost_Dance_Saddlers_Wells_May_2017

Rambert’s Ghost dance at Saddler’s Wells Theatre

It really is a fault of mine, and something I have been trying to rectify over the years

Blog_F22-50B

Five Minute Windows

After driving over 7000km in nine days around Scandinavia it was the morning of my last day. I

Top Gear Logo

Top Gear Romanian Special

JEREMY CLARKSON, RICHARD HAMMOND AND JAMES MAY IN ROMANIA: It was with great interest that I watched the Romanian