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Few felines have caused as much high-level consternation as Tiger, one of the cats owned by the thirtieth president of the United States, Calvin Coolidge. Coolidge, who served from 1923 to 1929, was arguably the most pet-friendly person ever to sit in the Oval Office. During his two terms he turned the White House into a veritable zoo. He and his wife, Grace, brought in a gaggle of domesticated birds ranging from canaries to a goose named Enoch, a donkey called Ebenezer, a semiwild bobcat named Smokey, and a vast collection of canines that included everything from collies to a Shetland sheepdog to a bulldog. Foreign dignitaries, apprised of the Coolidges’ tastes, gave the couple lion cubs, a bear, even a pygmy hippopotamus.

This immense cast of characters also included two cats, Tiger and Blacky. Of the two, Tiger seemed to grab the most headlines. The president made a habit of walking around with the tabby tomcat draped around his neck. During state functions, it was almost expected that at some point the cat would saunter in, observe the proceedings, and then wander back out.

Tiger’s penchant for wandering eventually got him into trouble. Back in Coolidge’s day no one thought of confining cats indoors—not even one belonging to the president of the United States. If the spirit moved him, Tiger was free to walk right through the iron fence surrounding 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue and explore Washington, D.C. The spirit, it appears, moved him quite often. Once, when he failed to return, the worried president took the desperate step of mentioning his absence during a radio address, asking anyone who saw Tiger to please send him home. The plea worked. Not too long afterward, the wayward kitty was spotted near the Lincoln Memorial, about a mile away, and taken back to the White House.

After that, Tiger was equipped with a green collar and Blacky with a red one. Both carried the words “The White House” engraved on a metal plate. Unfortunately, Tiger soon disappeared again, this time for good. In hindsight, Grace Coolidge wondered if perhaps the collars had been a mistake. They were intended as identification. In reality, they turned poor Tiger into the mother of all souvenirs.

OSCAR

THE CAT WHO SANK THE BISMARCK—ALONG WITH SEVERAL OTHER VESSELS

In May 1941, at the height of World War II, the mighty German battleship Bismarck was given orders to sail into the North Atlantic and attack the vast naval convoys hauling vital supplies from Canada and the United States to Great Britain. The Bismarck, considered one of the most powerful warships afloat, was uniquely qualified for the task. The British Royal Navy, desperate to preserve its lifeline to the New World, confronted the mighty ship as soon as it put to sea. After a bloody three-day fight, the vessel was pounded into scrap metal and sunk. Only a handful of its crew of thousands survived.

The lucky ones included the ship’s cat, Oscar, who was picked up by the destroyer HMS Cossack. The crew renamed the black feline with the white chest Unsinkable Sam and made him their mascot. But there was nothing lucky about Sam. Within five months the Cossack was torpedoed by a German submarine and sent to the bottom of the sea. Again, the survivors included the cat, who took up residence on the aircraft carrier HMS Ark Royal. But only three weeks later, the Ark Royal was also torpedoed and sunk. Perhaps it was a sort of vengeance: One of the aircraft carrier’s torpedo bombers had been responsible for damage to the Bismarck’s rudder, allowing Oscar’s original home to be caught and destroyed.

Eerily, the feline once more escaped Davy Jones’s locker, to be picked up by the destroyer HMS Legion. The authorities, perhaps afraid to let any creature so patently unlucky aboard another Royal Navy vessel, “retired” Oscar/Sam to dry land. He finished his long life at an old sailors’ home in Belfast, passing away in 1955. Happily, he took no ships with him.

JOCK

THE CAT WHO BECAME A HISTORIC LANDMARK

Winston Churchill was one of history’s great cat lovers. Throughout his life there was almost always one—or more than one—nearby. One of the most famous included a pet simply named Cat. Once, when Cat ran away after Churchill yelled at him, he had a sign placed in the window of his home that read, “Cat, come home, all is forgiven.” The feline did indeed return and was rewarded with special treats to regain his favor.

During World War II, Churchill’s most high-profile companion at No. 10 Downing Street was Nelson, a large black tomcat who followed him everywhere, even into important meetings. Churchill said his companion contributed to the war effort by serving as “a prime ministerial hot water bottle.” But perhaps the most enduring of all of Churchill’s feline associates was—and remains—a marmalade cat given to him for his eighty-eighth birthday. Since the cat was a present from his private secretary, Sir John Colville, he was called by Colville’s nickname, Jock.

The new addition to the household immediately became a great favorite. Jock was allowed to perch on Churchill’s knee during formal photos that were taken for the wedding of one of his grandsons. But their time together was brief. Jock was only two years old when Churchill died in 1965. He actually sat on the bed with his master as the great man breathed his last. He remained at the family residence, Chartwell, until his own passing in 1974. He lies buried in a pet cemetery on the grounds.

But that wasn’t the end of the story. Churchill’s will left Chartwell to the government, which turned the estate into a national monument. There was, however, a stipulation: The property always had to have a marmalade cat named Jock in residence. Currently the job is handled by Jock III. Not surprisingly, having a cat roaming around a historic landmark can be somewhat of a pain. The home’s conservators make sure the current Jock doesn’t try his claws out on the furnishings or get at the bowl of goldfish that resides perpetually in Churchill’s old study. Mostly he spends his days outdoors, catching the occasional mouse, sunning himself in the garden, and enjoying the largesse of a kindly master he will never know.

AHMEDABAD

THE CAT WHO SPARKED AN INTERNATIONAL INCIDENT

At the beginning of the 1960s, famed U.S. diplomat John Kenneth Galbraith served for twenty-seven months as ambassador to India. During his tenure at that sensitive diplomatic station, he handled everything from the American response to the 1962 Sino-Indian war to disputes over his country’s relationship with Pakistan. But those important developments pale in comparison to the embarrassing international incident touched off by a member of his own household—who wasn’t even human. The greatest firestorm of Galbraith’s tenure erupted over a misunderstanding involving his pet cat, Ahmedabad.

It began in 1962. During an official visit to the Indian state of Gujarat, Galbraith’s two young sons were each given Siamese kittens. One received an utterly innocuous name and is forgotten by history. The other got what at the time must have seemed like an equally forgettable moniker—Ahmedabad, to commemorate the town in which it was born.

This probably would not have been a problem. Unfortunately, the Galbraith family shortened it to Ahmed. This, as they were soon to learn, is one of the many, many alternate names for the Muslim prophet Mohammed.

And that, as it turned out, was a big problem.