The Cats of Rome

The sacred ground the cats in Rome tread upon was once shared by a more famous Roman - Julius Caesar. It was in the Torre Argentina, in 44 BC, that one of history's most illustrious dictators was stabbed to death. But despite that nearly 2000 years have passed, many believe Caesar's breath lives on in some of the proud felines that still roam the city's ruins.

In 1929 the sacred area of the Torre Argentina was excavated, and this is considered the beginning of the history of the cats of Rome. In ancient times, cats were elevated to a position of near royalty, but it was in 1929 that the cats began to seek refuge in the enclosed area of the ruins below the streets. Thus, Italians consider this year the beginning of the "Cats of Rome" history.

Today, many Italians consider the cats that roam the city a nuisance - but tourists flock to see the lazy cats still stretched out across rubble in Colosseum, sunning the day away, never truly grasping the concept that these are likely ancestors of those that lay there in Roman times.

It was on my first trip to the Colosseum that I discovered the cats. Although I had heard about the cats for some time, I imagined they were more of a legend or myth. Lo and behold, as we arrived at the Colosseum in mid afternoon, there they were: cats, both small and large, looking rather scrawny but content with prancing about in the warm Italian sunlight.

My thoughts centered around their emaciated bodies. Who fed them? Did they rely on tourists or the eccentric Italians that visit the cats each day? How do they get water? As an animal lover, I spent more time worrying about the welfare of the cats than appreciating the sense of history they offer both Italians and tourists alike. A rather helpful tour guide outside of the Colosseum answered our questions: Since the 1930s, the cats were usually fed by a succession of 'cat maids' (called gattare, a rather negative and condescending term for the eccentric but caring women.)

Once leaving the Colosseum, I assumed our cat experience was complete. Not so. In fact, on our way across town, we discovered that many Italians set out food for the strays, clay or ceramic bowls heaping with table scraps and, sometimes, mixed with dry cat food. The cat problem is widespread; cats are literally abound across the entire city. Yet although the cats have roamed the city since ancient times, efforts to control the feline population have failed. Many Italians feel the attempts to control the cats are half-hearted. For once, they say, this is a problem to big for the Italians to handle.

It was on one of these cobblestone streets on our journey across town that we decided to stop and play with the cats. Most of them scattered quickly, with hisses and scant meows lingering in the air as they fled. A few remained, and one came right up to my foot and started to lick my shoe.

I don't know WHAT we were thinking. It wasn't until my friend Sarah, a clean freak, started explaining to us that strays could give us rabies or fleas that we realized we didn't know enough Italian to tell the local med clinics anything about rabies shots. We scurried off quickly, but I learned an important lesson: It's fun to admire the cats, but you should leave the petting to the zoo. Getting sick abroad is not fun -- or easy to deal with should you find yourself in the hospital.

On any trip to Rome, you'll see these stray cats. But make a trip to the Colosseum, and you'll get a sense of Caesar (and much more) with each step you take -- surrounded by lazy cats that still guard the Colosseum's weathered walls.

For more information about the Cats of Rome, or how to adopt one of these cats on your trip abroad, visit Pamela Sargeant's Cat Stories or When in Rome - Adopt a Cat! Picture courtesy of Jill Engel-Cox.