After several years of visiting some cat-loving friends in Portugal, I can confirm that this is absolutely correct. I have also concluded that Portuguese cats have elevated this “staff” opposed to “owners” arrangement into an art form.
When I first spent time with friends at their Algarvian villa, I imagined lazy afternoons beneath the warm sunshine, coffee on the terrace, the distant sound of church bells and perhaps the occasional contented cat snoozing on a warm wall. What I didn’t anticipate was watching my old pals become unpaid butlers to several furry dictators. You see, Portuguese cats, unlike their British counterparts, appear to have attended finishing school. They don’t simply meow, they deliver speeches. They don’t ask to come inside, they issue formal requests that sound legally binding.
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Regular visitors
One of their regular visitors wasn’t technically “their” cat. That’s the thing about Portugal: few people seem to actually “own” a cat. Cats simply circulate between households like those slightly pesky neighbours, you know, the ones who come around to “borrow” a cup of sugar. But, unlike those pesky neighbours, the cats get free run of the house. One minute they’re asleep on the terrace furniture, the next they’ll be enjoying lunch next door before popping across the road for dinner, only to return specifically to criticise your choice of soft furnishings. I’m sure if cats had passports, these Portuguese ones would have more entry stamps than most Ryanair frequent flyers.
Then feeding time arrives. Cats possess an astonishing ability to convince every resident on the street that they’re suffering from terminal starvation.
You’ll lovingly open up an expensive gourmet pouch containing sustainably sourced salmon “in a delicate jelly.” Yummy (NOT). The cat sniffs it for approximately half a second before looking at you as though you’ve just offered it cold porridge.
Instead of politely eating your gourmet pouch from Intermarché, the finicky diner will just wander off next door, where Senhora Maria Silva regularly provides leftover sardinhas.
Outdoor lifestyle
Naturally. Portugal’s outdoor lifestyle makes the whole business of living around cats even more entertaining. Cats are everywhere. They inspect café terraces like health inspectors, supervise fishermen, patrol marina pontoons with all the authority of naval admirals, and somehow always find the warmest parked car bonnet within thirty seconds of the engine being switched off.
Summer presents fresh challenges. You leave the patio doors open to let in the soft evening breeze. Unfortunately, every cat within a three-kilometre radius interprets this as an open invitation to inspect your property. A cat, which you’ve probably never even seen before, casually strolls through the lounge as if it has a God-given right.
Winter isn’t much different here either. The Portuguese winter may seem positively tropical to Britons, but tell that to one of the local cats. The temperature dips to 15°C, and suddenly the feline population behaves as though civilisation has collapsed. They’ll occupy every blanket in the house.
Feline dominance
Technology has only strengthened feline dominance. Modern cats actually understand television. They know exactly when you’re trying to watch something. They’ll position themselves directly between your eyes and the screen. Should you dare to attempt to move them away, they’ll produce the expression normally reserved for the most heinous form of betrayal. They will actually give you dirty looks. I’m not kidding.
Laptop users fare no better.
Cats are irresistibly drawn to keyboards, particularly during deadlines. Somehow, they know the precise moment you’ve written three flawless paragraphs before marching across the keys and transforming your masterpiece into something resembling ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics.
The local wildlife also provides endless entertainment. Geckos race across walls, lizards dart through gardens, but cats observe all this with military concentration before launching spectacular ambushes that succeed perhaps only once every twenty-seven attempts. Their confidence, however, remains entirely undiminished. A failed leap from the garden wall isn’t an embarrassing miscalculation, it’s simply part of a longer tactical operation. When they do succeed, they quite voluntarily pay their mouse tax by depositing one of their unfortunate victims on the lounge floor. People often ask whether cats make good companions. Absolutely.
They ask for remarkably little. Food, fresh water, a comfortable chair (preferably yours) and exclusive rights to your bed. They demand priority access to every sunbeam, the right to interrupt every telephone conversation whilst giving back unlimited emotional support. They just want complete control over your daily routine. Hardly an unreasonable price for all the “entertainment” and comfort they doubtlessly provide?
Yet, despite all the scratched furniture, mysteriously disappearing socks, broken flowerpots (at 4 a.m.) and wake-up calls demanding immediate breakfast, because apparently sunrise waits for nobody, life would feel strangely empty without them. You see, cats possess an extraordinary gift for making a house feel lived-in. They curl up beside you after a difficult day, they’ll greet you after an absence with carefully disguised enthusiasm, and they remind us that simple pleasures such as warm sunshine, afternoon naps and just watching the world go by might actually be some of life’s greatest pleasures.
Ideal symbiosis
Perhaps that’s why Portugal suits cats so perfectly? It’s a place that suits the feline mindset rather splendidly. After all, cats have been living in accordance with their unique philosophies for thousands of years. I think cats are just too independent to be “owned” and, as far as I can make out, there are very few formal “cat ownership” arrangements in most of the places that I’ve visited in Portugal. To me, this seems like an ideal symbiosis.
Hereabouts, simply demonstrate how life ought to be lived. They make a pretty compelling argument, don’t they?
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