Warning: This story contains depictions of violence against domestic pets that may be disturbing to some readers.
Those of us who own cats — the creators of this book included — know that they are basically a race of cryptids unto themselves. We share our homes with these strange, funny, weird, wild creatures, forming deep relationships with them despite never being able to speak the same language. Often mercurial, cats can be cuddly purr-balls one moment and bite-y little gremlins the next. When they want something, they often get it, even if that means pawing our faces at four in the morning. And we humans, despite being the dominant species, usually acquiesce to the wishes of our feline friends.
That's what makes this folk story from Woodstock, Conn., so amusing: It's exactly what a cat would do if it had the ability to come back as a zombie.
Starting in 1797 and lasting well into the twentieth century, the Bowen family operated a successful mercantile in the heart of Woodstock. Not unexpectedly, this popular store was a critical place for the exchange of news, information, and stories.
One day, a prominent citizen named William Flynn stopped by the mercantile with quite an unusual tale. It had to do with the cat owned by John Sylsby, the local hatter.
The Sylsby cat was much loved by the family and was very tame — that is, until one evening when disaster nearly struck. John was checking on his infant child when he discovered that the cat had snuck into the nursery and was trying to steal the sleeping baby's breath. John snatched away the child, who had not yet been injured, and drove the cat from the house.
The next morning, John and his wife decided, rather drastically, that the cat must be killed for fear that it had been possessed and would try to harm the child again. John steeled himself for the unhappy task. He brained the poor animal and laid its body to rest beside the garden.
That night, the Sylsby family awoke to the sound of a terrible yowling outside their door. They recognized the noise at once: It was the cat, calling to be let inside. With great trepidation, John ventured downstairs and opened the door, whereupon the agitated (and quite alive) cat waltzed inside.
John and his wife shut the cat inside a cupboard. They didn't know what to do, except to think that the cat's return confirmed their worst suspicions about its evil nature. John resolved to kill the cat a second time and did so the next day.
Those of us who own cats — the creators of this book included — know that they are basically a race of cryptids unto themselves. We share our homes with these strange, funny, weird, wild creatures, forming deep relationships with them despite never being able to speak the same language. Often mercurial, cats can be cuddly purr-balls one moment and bite-y little gremlins the next. When they want something, they often get it, even if that means pawing our faces at four in the morning. And we humans, despite being the dominant species, usually acquiesce to the wishes of our feline friends.
That's what makes this folk story from Woodstock, Conn., so amusing: It's exactly what a cat would do if it had the ability to come back as a zombie.
Starting in 1797 and lasting well into the twentieth century, the Bowen family operated a successful mercantile in the heart of Woodstock. Not unexpectedly, this popular store was a critical place for the exchange of news, information, and stories.
One day, a prominent citizen named William Flynn stopped by the mercantile with quite an unusual tale. It had to do with the cat owned by John Sylsby, the local hatter.
The Sylsby cat was much loved by the family and was very tame — that is, until one evening when disaster nearly struck. John was checking on his infant child when he discovered that the cat had snuck into the nursery and was trying to steal the sleeping baby's breath. John snatched away the child, who had not yet been injured, and drove the cat from the house.
The next morning, John and his wife decided, rather drastically, that the cat must be killed for fear that it had been possessed and would try to harm the child again. John steeled himself for the unhappy task. He brained the poor animal and laid its body to rest beside the garden.
That night, the Sylsby family awoke to the sound of a terrible yowling outside their door. They recognized the noise at once: It was the cat, calling to be let inside. With great trepidation, John ventured downstairs and opened the door, whereupon the agitated (and quite alive) cat waltzed inside.
John and his wife shut the cat inside a cupboard. They didn't know what to do, except to think that the cat's return confirmed their worst suspicions about its evil nature. John resolved to kill the cat a second time and did so the next day.
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The cat, though, was not so easily dispatched. It returned the next night, mewling at the door to be let in from the rain. Pitifully soaked, the cat ran inside again when John, terrified, cracked open the door. He and his wife once again shut the cat inside a cupboard. There was no doubt in either of their minds that something unnatural was happening.
When dawn broke, John and his wife decided that "no pains should be spared this time to put an end to the creature." Taking up his ax, John separated the cat's head from its body and put the parts on different sides of his property. Surely, the cat would not return this time. But anyone who has ever owned a cat knows that they can be persistent creatures. On that third and final evening, John and his wife were startled awake once again by the cat calling at their door. So petrified were they by the sound that it took John a long while to muster up the courage to go investigate. When he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of the cat — intact once more but holding its own discarded head in its jaws. Observations Though domestic cats have lived beside humans for thousands of years, they are nonetheless the subject of two insidious rumors: first, that black cats are unlucky and/or evil; and second, that cats can steal the breath from a baby or child. Though various hypotheses have been offered, it's unclear where exactly these longstanding falsehoods originated. |
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One common correlation is that cats became a scapegoat to explain sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS), a phenomenon that is still not well understood. However, it should go without saying that there is no evidence that cats "steal the breath" of infants. While no pet should ever sleep with a baby for risk of suffocating the child, housecats otherwise pose little threat to young humans.
What about the idea that cats have multiple lives? Again, the origins of this legend are murky. Some suggest that it began in ancient Egypt, where cats were revered and sometimes even mummified. The sun god, Atum-Ra, could transform into a cat to visit the underworld and also gave birth to eight other gods. These gods, plus Atum-Ra, equals nine "lives."
Not everyone, though, believes that cats have exactly nine lives. Some Arab traditions claim that cats have six lives, while some Spanish-speaking cultures contend that the actual number is seven.
Whatever the case, the Sylsby cat in Woodstock certainly used some of its allotted lives to continue pestering its owner.
Important Note
Just to be absolutely clear, the creators of Connecticut Cryptids emphatically condemn the harm or abuse of animals in any way.
Sources
"Ask an Expert: Pets and Newborns." Providence Health & Services via Wayback Machine, web.archive.org/web/20151018164114/http://oregon.providence.org/our-services/p/providence-women-s-health/forms-and-information/ask-an-expert-pets-and-newborns. Accessed 5 Aug. 2022.
Bowen, Clarence Winthrop. The History of Woodstock Connecticut. Plimpton Press, 1926: pp. 203.
Bowen, Henry C. "A Cat Story." Courtesy of the Center for Woodstock History (Woodstock Historical Society, Inc.), 1992.001.001.106Ms106.
Osborne, Hannah. "Do Cats Have Nine Lives? The Myth Explained." Newsweek, Oct. 29, 2021, www.newsweek.com/cats-nine-lives-myth-explained-1643381. Accessed 5 Aug. 2022.
What about the idea that cats have multiple lives? Again, the origins of this legend are murky. Some suggest that it began in ancient Egypt, where cats were revered and sometimes even mummified. The sun god, Atum-Ra, could transform into a cat to visit the underworld and also gave birth to eight other gods. These gods, plus Atum-Ra, equals nine "lives."
Not everyone, though, believes that cats have exactly nine lives. Some Arab traditions claim that cats have six lives, while some Spanish-speaking cultures contend that the actual number is seven.
Whatever the case, the Sylsby cat in Woodstock certainly used some of its allotted lives to continue pestering its owner.
Important Note
Just to be absolutely clear, the creators of Connecticut Cryptids emphatically condemn the harm or abuse of animals in any way.
Sources
"Ask an Expert: Pets and Newborns." Providence Health & Services via Wayback Machine, web.archive.org/web/20151018164114/http://oregon.providence.org/our-services/p/providence-women-s-health/forms-and-information/ask-an-expert-pets-and-newborns. Accessed 5 Aug. 2022.
Bowen, Clarence Winthrop. The History of Woodstock Connecticut. Plimpton Press, 1926: pp. 203.
Bowen, Henry C. "A Cat Story." Courtesy of the Center for Woodstock History (Woodstock Historical Society, Inc.), 1992.001.001.106Ms106.
Osborne, Hannah. "Do Cats Have Nine Lives? The Myth Explained." Newsweek, Oct. 29, 2021, www.newsweek.com/cats-nine-lives-myth-explained-1643381. Accessed 5 Aug. 2022.
