The history of cats says, “Ten thousand years ago, people living in the Fertile Crescent began farming. They stored wheat and barley in their granaries. Detecting the chubby rats that infested the barns, our wild cat ancestors immediately took action, eating both the rats and human-provided food, thus obtaining a new source of nutrition for themselves. Our wild cat ancestors were never domesticated, but when they saw how much humans needed cats, they agreed to help humans by making the universal cat-human contract. Later, they migrated to other countries with people from Anatolia, and were brought to the high position they deserved by the respectable people of Egypt (see Cat Goddess Bastet).
According to historian cats, the Agricultural Revolution was successful thanks to cats. If rats ate all the grain produced, farming would have no meaning or benefit. As a result of the Agricultural Revolution, people settled down, established cities and states, and started to deal with art and science. In short, human civilization was founded by cats."
(Source: Official Cat History, recorded in the memory of all cats)
Aka, his wife Acha and their children planted wheat again, and for the first time they had a good harvest by luck. They filled two barns: First, they filled the big barn inside the house to the brim and closed the door. Aka had built the house with two rooms, with a wheat barn on one side and a large room where the family would live.
For the surplus wheat, Aka dug a man-sized round hole under the tree opposite the house, spread clay over its sides, filled it with the wheat and covered it with a large stone. There was still quite a bit of wheat left, which they piled up in a corner of the kitchen for daily use. In one side of the great room, on the stone kitchen counter, were large bowls carved from stone. The hearth between the stones turned into an oven when it was covered.
Aka was exhausted but content; they would no longer have a shortage of food on cold winter days. For days he enjoyed life lying on the animal hides on the floor. He didn't have to go out hunting for food anymore. Most of their children had died, and three daughters and a young son survived. His life of hunter-gatherer, struggling to raise them, was over because now they had wheat. For that, he was thankful to the stout Mother Goddess statue on top of the tree stump he had placed in the corner of the room. While he was sleeping, Acha was grinding the wheat in the house between heavy stones, making flour and baking bread in the stone oven.
Days later, when the wheat in the kitchen was finished, Acha opened the door of the barn in the house. But she cried out at the sight she saw. The wheat was gone. The floor of the barn was covered with little black mice, tawny voles, and mouse droppings. There were also insects and small reptiles. When Aka saw the situation, his world fell apart. They would have to go through the winter hungry. Again, their children would starve to death. How hard they had worked! They had dug the ground with sticks and hoes, planted the wild seeds they had gathered with great effort, and gathered them one by one after the harvest so as not to lose a single grain of wheat.
They rushed to the barn outside, lifting the heavy stone. To their astonishment, the wheat was there, just as they had left it, none of it was missing! Thanks to this barn, there was enough wheat left to feed them in the winter. Aka was somewhat relieved, but also very surprised: Mice could have easily entered through the gaps around the stone's edges. Why didn't they eat the wheat here?
It started raining. They decided to take the wheat out immediately before it got wet and take it home, then they would look for ways to drive away the mice in the house. They drove the rats out of the house, beating them with sticks and sweeping them off with bushes. They covered the mouse holes with clay. They put all the wheat they had in the barn. But the next day, Aka opened the door and saw that the barn was full of mice munching on the wheat. No matter how hard they tried, they could not get rid of the mice.
So why hadn't there been any rats in the barn outside? Aka studied the area to understand this. He looked around, in the grass, the bushes and the trees. There were no animals. When he finally looked up, he saw the wildcat lying in all its splendor on the high branches. She looked down at him, her graceful body adorned with sand gray and tawny lines, her lush green eyes surrounded by black lines, proudly showing the world that she was a masterpiece of nature. Aka had seen lions and tigers before. This animal was similar to them, but small and more beautiful, even cute.
That night, after everyone was asleep, Aka stood guard outside and saw the wildcat move in the morning. The cat was patiently waiting for its prey on the branch, and if the slightest insect, mouse or reptile wanted to approach the wheat barn, she would jump on it with lightning speed. She could see everything that moved and hear the slightest creak. After hunting many animals, she was full, but for a while she caught and played with mice, just to have fun by throwing them in the air and pressing on their tails. With such a skillful and ruthless hunter there, the rats did not dare to approach the barn.
Aka now knew the way to get rid of the rats: the wildcat had to come to their home. After that day, he left the door of the house ajar; hoping that the cat would hear the sounds and smell of the mice in the house.
The cat got tired of waiting on the tree, the rats wouldn't come because there was no wheat in the barn outside now. He decided to enter the house where the mice were plentiful. Aka had left the hatch door open as well. In the twilight towards morning, the cat crept silently inside. Aka watched him from his bed, and saw that he was indeed a very skilled hunter. The cat was able to locate mice with its ears, nose and whiskers, and caught them with a single claw stroke.
Aka thought he could use this cat just as he used his dog for hunting. Behind the cat stood a large, fat mouse. He yelled with excitement: "Catch, catch!" But the cat was now full. She turned to Aka and gave him a dignified look. She didn't like being interfered with. She began to lick her paws. Aka said "Come!" , she did not come. "Sit down!" he said, she did not sit down. "Lie down!!" he said, she did not. She was mumbling and purring lightly. Aka didn't understand her, but she was proclaiming the Universal Human-Cat Convention that all cats knew:
“Article 1: The cat does not have to obey the human.”
Then she got up and left, as if to say, "That's enough for today," which showed that she didn't care about them at all.
The next evening, while the family was eating the bird that Aka had hunted, they saw the cat sitting at the open door. She was staring at them. Aka gave the cat a piece of meat to make her come closer. The cat ate the meat with pleasure and for a while cleaned her whiskers with her paw. She muttered again:
“Article 2: When humans are eating something, the cat will be given her share.”
Then she went into the barn to do her cat duties and stayed there for a long time. The mice had dug deep tunnels under the house. They had fled into the tunnels because they felt there was a cat in the barn. The cat crouched over one of the holes and waited, not moving. Not long after, she pounced on a mouse as soon as he poked his head out. Neither Aka nor any other human could move so fast. The number of rats in the barn was decreasing day by day.
The wildcat would come and go home whenever she wanted, according to her own schedule. She didn't care much for people, but one day when she saw the dog inside, she got very angry, fluffed up, arched her back and turned sideways to look much bigger. With her ears tilted back, her big wild eyes, she snarled with the most frightening facial expression, jumped suddenly towards the dog, and slapped his nose with a sharp claw. She struck again and the dog screeched out in pain. Aka decided to keep the dog outside after that day. The cat rubbed against his legs and purred:
“Article 3: The cat marks her territory and no other animals can enter unless she approves.”
The mice in the house were gone and the wheat was saved. The family was so grateful to the cat that they let her do whatever she wanted. They presented gifts, toys and pieces of prey such as liver and heart as rewards. They even let her eat the fresh herbs that stood in the big bowl and then throw up. The cat had scratched Acha's favorite leather clothes, and had been tearing up the animal hides they had spread on the floor. Aka brought the cat pieces of softwood that she could scratch at. The cat also recorded this item in the contract:
"Article 4: Humans will provide the necessary scratching tools for cat nail care."
When it got cold, Aka closed the door. The cat was constantly changing her mind between staying inside or going outside. Sometimes she would bring a lizard she had caught outside and when the door opened, she would enter and leave it in the middle of the room. She would want to go out again soon. Sometimes she sat right on the threshold, neither coming in nor going out. She worked independently, free to come and go whenever she wanted. That's why she added the door-opening clause in the contract:
Article 5: Humans will open the door every time the cats want to come in or go out.
There were no rats in sight in the house, because rats would not enter a place that smelled of cats. The cat was still waiting patiently in front of the barn, catching a few stray mice if they came. If Aka had been a skilled hunter like a cat, they would never suffer from a shortage of food. If only the cat had helped him in the hunt! But she ate everything she caught.
Aka went out hunting before winter came. If he could hunt a large animal it would last them all winter with the wheat. But he struck an angry deer, and before he could shoot the arrow in his hand, the deer attacked and badly injured him with its antlers. His stomach, chest, and arms were punched with holes, and he was so badly injured that he could not go hunting all winter. He crawled his way home and lay in bed for days.
When the harsh winter began, the cat began to spend more time at home. She hunted at night, and during the day she curled up in the large stone bowl on the counter. She seemed to like the warmth from the stove. But disagreement arose when Acha wanted to use the bowl. She would try to throw the cat out of the bowl to make soup, but the cat would growl at her.
In the end, the cat won. Aka carved a large stone and made a new bowl for her. He was very afraid that the cat would get offended and leave, and rats would invade the house again. As the wildcat settled in the bowl, she reported her sixth condition:
Article 6: The cat can sleep wherever she wants. Humans cannot disturb a sleeping cat.
Snow covered everywhere. The fire was constantly burning in the pit which contained the stone hearth in the middle of the room. Aka spent months in bed, recovering. When he woke up one night, he felt a weight on his stomach, the cat was lying on him. She had located herself right on the spot where he was wounded. The warmth and the murmuring vibrations emanating from her soft little body were like a healing power for Aka's wounds. He stroked her lightly, the cat purred louder in satisfaction. The happiness of the cat relieved Aka and made him forget his pain.
Acha used wheat sparingly, crushing it with stones in a mortar, and cooking it in a big bowl with root vegetables and herbs. She brought snow from outside and melted it, and made wheat soups with different herbs. The best was the bread. She ground the flour between heavy stones and baked bread in the stone oven. Bread was tastier and more satisfying than anything else. As soon as it came out of the oven, all the children ran and grabbed the crispy hot pieces and ate them with pleasure. For the first time in history, people who had faced the danger of starvation for millions of years were provided with satisfaction every day and they regarded bread as a sacred blessing. Aka and his family survived the winter with the wheat in the barn, even if they could not find anything else to eat. The cat had brought abundance and prosperity.
When the wildcat couldn't find a mouse, it would play with an acorn or a small round stone at night. She would run up and down the room like crazy while everyone was sleeping, showing that she lived life to the fullest and that she didn't care about anything. There was a mischievous joy in her mysterious and charming eyes. Sometimes she would sit still for a long time and stare at a point in space, as if contemplating something deep and meaningful. She seemed to know vital truths and universal teachings. She pricked up her ears if she heard something important, but did not give the slightest reaction because she considered many things unimportant. Since she had found the security she needed in nature in high tree branches, she wanted to sit in high places at home too. So she jumped to the top of the tall tree stump in the corner, next to the Mother Goddess statue. Aka, afraid of the goddess's wrath, tried to put the cat down, but the cat growled angrily:
“Article 7: The cat can jump, sit and lie down wherever she wants. All items are for the use of the cat.”
Aka removed the Mother Goddess statue from the log so that the cat could sleep more comfortably, and set it aside in the kitchen. If the cat seemed a little sluggish or did not eat, Aka was worried. He was always trying to please her so that she would not leave the house:
“She looks like she's not happy. What's wrong, what should we do?"
What else could he do? He filled a small bowl with water and placed it next to the large bowl where the cat was lying. He brought acorns, which the cat played with at night and he brought the grass she liked to eat. He placed the piece of log she had been scratching next to the bowl. He made a bed of the softest animal hides inside the bowl. The cat should see its home as a hunting quarter, a safe and comfortable shelter, and a source of food.
Thus, the cat had taken possession of them and made them accept her whims and wishes. She continued to enumerate the basic principles of the human-cat relationship:
“Article 8: Humans are the chosen servants of cats, not their owners. In return for this service, cats honor the house with their presence.”
Aka was tired of opening and closing the door for the cat. Finally, he cut out a window at the bottom of the door, small enough for the cat to pass through. But he had not thought that a dangerous enemy could enter through this opening.
While Aka was lying in bed, his little son was sitting on the floor opposite him, playing with small stones. Acha and her daughters had gone to pick vegetables. The wildcat was dozing in its high place on the tree stump. With a hiss, the cat and Aka were startled: a huge viper was just behind the little boy, his head held high, looking at the boy. This was the only son Aka cherished and protected from all dangers.
Like the cat, the snake had come to the house to eat the mice. Aka couldn't move. The snake was so close to the little boy that it would bite him at the slightest movement. When the child saw the snake, he would want to reach out and hold it, and the snake would instantly put its venomous fangs on the child's soft hand. Aka knew that this would result in certain death. He had seen people who were paralyzed and died in agony from snake bites before. Suddenly he felt old and powerless, with no hope of saving his son. There was nothing he could do.
In the following seconds, everything happened so fast that Aka couldn't even understand how. The cat had jumped down from the log, faced the snake, and struck a paw in its eyes. The snake instantly went blind. As it curled up, the cat hit with her sharp claws. She jumped back with every strike, never permitting the snake to bite. The snake wanted to wrap itself around the cat, but the cat always kept a safe distance between them, hitting nonstop and jumping back as soon as she hit. Aka held his breath, watching this fight as if his heart would stop.
After countless claw strikes, the snake shrunk and coiled, unable to lift its head any longer. Finally, the cat sank her teeth into the snake's neck, dragging its long body across the floor and out through the door.
Aka now understood the value of the cat. “The cat is nature's gift to humans,” he said. The cat, with its soft paws and relentless nails, is a quiet and patient master hunter, a cold-blooded killer and a loving friend, a lazy idler but agile and fearless fighter when necessary, loving to work but not forgetting to have fun, seeing, hearing, knowing everything , but an uneducated sage who only cared about the important things, a unique being who was not humble at all, always seeking admiration from people and highly deserving of them.
The cat knew all this, too, and was purring:
“Article 9: The cat does not need the human, the human needs the cat.”
Winter had passed and nature had come to life. Thanks to the cat, the wheat had helped them to survive. The cat became restless with the spring. She could not stay at home anymore and left.
Aka was now completely healed. Again he prepared the ground, plucked the grass and planted wild wheat seeds in a large field.
The cat was nowhere to be seen, they searched and waited for her, but she did not come. In this season, all animals were making preparations for their offspring. So she too would build a nest to raise her young. Aka said, “She will give birth to her cubs in the safest place she can find, and hide them from other animals, either in a tree hollow or a hole.”
Wheat grew in the field. Again they would be busy collecting and storing the grain in the barn for winter. Aka was afraid, what if the cat doesn't come? She had obviously left the house. “I wonder if we offended her? Maybe she gave up home life for good and went back to the wild.”
If the mice ate all the wheat, all their labor would be in vain. Aka could hunt small animals and birds in the summer, but it was very difficult to hunt in the freezing cold and snowy days of winter. He did not want to return to his exhausting and dangerous hunter-gatherer life. He thought about the hunting attempts he had failed in the past years, the predators he encountered, the nights they couldn't sleep because of hunger, and his children who fell ill and died. They had buried their tiny bodies, shrunk from lack of food, under the house. Aka looked at his little son. He sat on his bed, his head in his hands, sad, crying in despair: Why was it so hard to survive? He remembered how hard he had worked to build this house! He had collected stones, cut down trees, mixed mud with grass and straw to build mud-brick walls on stone foundations, poured them into molds, and dried the bricks in the sun. He had spent days building the walls. He had laid the floor of the house with compacted red clay soil, small tea stones and limestones, and plastered the walls with clay soil. For the kitchen, he had worked to make the stone stove, stone oven, grinding stones and stone countertops. He had turned part of the house into a barn, hoping to store grain. Every year he had planted the seeds of wild grain with hope, but without success. For the first time this year, thanks to the rains, he had obtained enough wheat to store but this time he encountered rodents.
He felt that as he got older, life got harder, and whatever he did was not enough to keep his family alive. He had plowed and sowed the soil again in blood and sweat, but mice and insects would eat the products of his labor. Why wasn't anyone helping them? He was looking desperately at the Mother Goddess statue, the quarry and the empty stone bowl. “Someone help me, someone help me!”
And the cat walked in silently through the door. In one leap, she climbed onto the kitchen counter, dropped the tiny kitten she was carrying in her mouth into the empty bowl, ran outside again, brought all her babies one by one, then lay down next to them and looked into the man's eyes with her green eyes, purring:
“Article 10: People are obliged to love cats. Cats understand that they are loved and act accordingly.”
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