Day of the Black Cat

Today is National Black Cat Day in Canada and Great Britain. I don’t usually follow such observances, but this one presents a good chance to show off my two affectionate and sociable black cats.

Imogen came to live with me in February, 2023, when she was abandoned by her owner in an apartment of the building in which I was living. It didn’t take long for her to become friendly, and initially she was available for adoption. But I decided to keep her, partly because I thought she had already been through enough desertion. She doesn’t really care for the other beasts in the Cosy Cabin, but she does play with Valkyrie and Moxy, especially the former. They chase and affectionately smack each other, though it’s the sort of relationship in which Imo is allowed to smack a little harder; when someone does it to her, she hisses. She’s that kind of cat. She’s almost all black, but has an anklet of individual white hairs around a rear leg. Interestingly, I have read of several other black cats with that distinction. Her fur is very smooth and glossy; thus, her nickname of Miss Silky. She loves cuddling with me, and have her satiny fur stroked.

Sable was an outsider-cat, trapped and brought with us when we moved to the Cosy Cabin. She is now probably in her teens, with damaged ears, impaired hearing and a broken tail. She is nearly all black but with a diffused tuft of white hair on her chest, a rather common addition to otherwise all-black cats. She has shown her affability with one of the other cats, Moxy, and has few problems with any of the others, even Indigo grudgingly accepting her. She has fit in well and has grown quite used to me, though why she scurries away from me in some instances, and lets me pass within inches in others, I haven’t yet determined.

Three years ago, I fostered Hector, a black cat with a more prominent white tuft than Sable’s, and thirteen years before that, my first foster was a black cat, Lincoln, who had no white whatsoever. Both were adopted.

Black cats, despite their minor physical differences, can be hard to distinguish. I have seen a pair of black cats in the sunlight, when one had a red tinge and the other blue, but most of the time, they are difficult to tell apart. I dread reading of black cats who become lost outside, as the ones lost are hard to identify. Black cats also don’t always photograph well, their definition being lost in the blackness. This latter quality may be why fewer black cats are adopted than any other variety.

Even so, their personalities make up for their superficial similarity. Each is very distinct. If I initially confuse Imogen with Sable, their characters tell them apart. Hector, too, was his own cat. No one I know who has adopted a black cat has regretted it. If you are ever in the market for another family member, therefore, consider a new - or old - house panther. They may blend in to their backgrounds, but you’ll always be glad they are with you.