Library Cat: The Observations of a Thinking Cat

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Library Cat is not like most cats. This is because Library Cat is a thinking cat.

I think therefore I am, thought Library Cat one autumn morning. (You see what I mean?)

Library Cat lives in Edinburgh. He has one white paw and one black paw with a white tip that makes it look like it has been dipped into a churn of fresh milk. Along his back runs fur so fine and ethereal that in the correct light it shimmers like a cornfield in a summer breeze. His eyes are green and flecked with gold – more alert than a normal cat’s. Just right of his nose is a little white splodge, as if his mouth had got too close while lapping from the same milk churn, and from this mouth extend whiskers so unusually elegant and curled that one might suspect, on seeing them alone, that there is something magical about Library Cat.

Library Cat was born eight years ago in the Edinburgh University Chaplaincy. Despite a rather biblical sense of self-importance, he is not, however, an especially religious cat. Among the litter, he has six other brothers and sisters. Library Cat is the only thinking cat among them. His brothers and sisters had gone on to live perfectly pleasant lives, with warm firesides and good cardboard boxes to sleep in, they were well-fed and well-groomed and they had become a most serviceable set of mouse catchers.

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