It’s a “gata” eat fish world

The Greek word for cat is gata. The word is feminine so you would refer to a cat as e gata, as opposed to the masculine o skilos for dog.

Pretty much all dining takes place outdoors in Greece, at least in the summer, which exposes you to constant assault by felines scrounging for a meal. They’ll sit quietly waiting for something to drop from an itinerant fork, or nuzzle your shins under the table. The more brazen ones might hop on your lap in search of affection, or just to beguile you into sacrificing more of your dinner.

In his book Mani, Patrick Leigh Fermor commits a few pages to a discussion of Greek cats: “Eastern European cats bear little resemblance to the ribboned pussies of the West,” he writes. “They are a completely different shape.….their ears grow to the size, proportionately with their bodies, of bats; their bodies, their necks and their tails are longer. They are more alert, intelligent and enterprising, above all, wilder and distinctly more raffish.”

I’ve never been much of a cat person but I have been known to surrender to the charms of these little Greek scoundrels. Rather than shoo them away, I’ve even welcomed them on my lap. One recently took a snooze on my belly and I was reluctant to wake him when I needed to use the bathroom. I guess I’m just a sucker for a cute face.

On a recent morning stroll to the Kalamata port, I came upon a fisherman dangling his line from the edge of the pier. He reeled in a bony little fish, yanked out the hook and tossed it to a waiting cat, who toyed with it as the poor thing writhed in its death throes.

I felt bad for the fish but hey, a gata’s gotta eat.