1. JUMMY THE HOMING CAT
Just look at him: a sleek and superior black cat looking his admirers straight in the eye, as if asking them: “When did you last walk from Hampstead to Rugby? Well, when did you, peasant?”
The story is that in 1904, Mr Mark Robinson moved from Overslade near Rugby to 9 Belsize Grove, Hampstead. He brought with him his family and belongings, including his wife’s black cat Jummy. Mr Robinson thought that Jummy did not care much for London life, preferring his old country surroundings. He also thought that this extraordinary cat objected to some furniture being moved into the house: taking great affront at this, Jummy simply vanished, and did not return home.
Two weeks later, Jummy was found in Rugby, looking a little thin and rough-coated, but otherwise quite unaffected by what was presumed to have been an 85-mile (137km) tramp through the perilous countryside. By some stratagem or other, people recognised him as Mr Robinson’s cat, and he was returned to Hampstead. There was immediate newspaper interest in this remarkable cat, for it was of course thought that Jummy had wanted to return to his old neighbourhood in Overslade. The cat must have been guided by some mysterious homing instinct during its long journey, since it had never exhibited any nomadic tendencies in the past, and since it had been brought from Overslade to Hampstead in a closed basket.
Jummy’s great feat was described in the London evening newspapers, some of which included a photograph of the cat, and the story even spread to the United States,
Australia and New Zealand. The cat’s walking feat was considered as one of the wonders of the feline world of 1904. This was the height of the Edwardian postcard craze, so Jummy was of course depicted on one of these cards, with a caption celebrating his 85-mile
walk; this card may well have had limited circulation, and is today uncommonly met with.
Unbelievers in newspaper yarns about homing animals, and scoffers at tales of feline hyperpedestrianism, may well point out that the Grand Union Canal is just a comfortable stroll away from Belsize Grove, and that back in 1904, there was a plentiful supply of canal boats, some of which were destined for Rugby. It was marvelled that Jummy did not seem at all footsore or worse for wear after his presumed walking feat, and the reason for this is likely to be that he had travelled in comfort as a stowaway on a canal boat.
Only the inscrutable Jummy himself knew the truth about his presumed homing tendencies: did the postcard celebrating this extraordinary cat carry a true statement of facts, or should its inscription instead have paraphrased Pope’s Monumental musings:
Where London’s feline, pointing at the skies
Like a tall bully, lifts the head, and lies?
For further accounts of feline hyperpedestrianism, see FT61:46-49, 158:22, 159:10, 199:14-15, 282:24-25, 255:6, 360:8-9.