There are times when Ellie the cat (1995-2015) would remind me of ancient Egypt. When she sat upright, I thought of a statue of the goddess Bastet.
This comes to mind as I write about cats in Arthurian Britain for English Historical Fiction Authors. Cats in 5th century Britain weren’t that different from the felines who hunted mice in granaries 10,000 years. The friendlier ones decided to hang out with the humans who fed them table scraps.
My reasoning comes from something that happened in 1996. A year-old stray approached my husband while he was in the garage, and he gave her cat food. The next morning, I almost tripped on the dead mouse she left on the doormat. It was intact—perhaps her way of thanking us.
Of course we took her in and named her Ellie.