Abyssinian

The Abyssinian does not walk around the house — it investigates it. Every cabinet must be opened, every bag inspected, every countertop gone around from above, because from above you simply see more. This is a cat the color of heated brick, each hair of which has several bands of different shades (the so-called ticking, as in a wild rabbit or a puma), which makes the whole coat look as if it were slightly glowing. And added to this, the slender, muscular silhouette of a miniature puma and great, alert ears set as if it were listening in on the universe. Because the Abyssinian really is listening in — on the world, on you, on the fridge, on everything. It has only one gear, and that gear is curiosity.

And it is a curiosity with a truly ancient lineage — or at least with the best legend in the feline world. The Abyssinian looks like a living copy of the cats from Egyptian paintings: the same slender silhouette, the same great ears and almond eyes that gaze out from the tombs of the pharaohs. For years it was believed to be a direct descendant of the sacred cats of ancient Egypt — and although geneticists today cool these romantic theories (the trails lead rather toward the shores of the Indian Ocean and Asia), the cat itself seems not to know this. It carries itself like a living museum exhibit that has just decided to step down from its display case and check what you have there in the cabinet under the sink. It reached Europe in the 19th century and took its name from Abyssinia, or old Ethiopia — and so it began its second career: conquering homes with the speed of lightning.

Because life with an Abyssinian is life with a well-oiled ball of energy. This is an acrobat that treats the furniture as an obstacle course and the highest point in the room as its natural command post. It opens doors, pulls out drawers, carries small objects in its mouth, and assists at literally every task of yours — not out of a need for cuddling, but out of a pure, insatiable need to know what you are up to again. This is not a cat that will sleep through an afternoon with you on the sofa. It is a cat that will check where all the cables lead, climb onto the wardrobe to investigate the ceiling, and come back to report that the terrain is secured. Boredom is its only real enemy — and a bored Abyssinian can, in half a day, rearrange the apartment according to its own concept.

And yet it would be a wrong to call it only a “force of nature,” because in this breed hides a surprising depth of feeling. The Abyssinian loves through co-participation: it does not nestle passively, it wants to be your accomplice. It is where you are — on the desk during work, on the edge of the bathtub during a bath, on the windowsill beside your morning coffee. It is sometimes called a “dog-cat,” because it clings to its human, follows them step by step, and sincerely participates in their day. This love does not consist of lying on your lap — it consists in the fact that whatever you do, you do it together. For someone who wants in a cat a partner curious about the world, and not an ornament, this is the best deal one can strike.

Because the Abyssinian is a spark in a cat's skin: curiosity, movement, and intelligence bound into one slender, glowing body that every day discovers your home anew, as if seeing it for the first time.

Give it a world full of things to investigate and be its accomplice in that discovery, and you will understand the most beautiful paradox of this breed: a cat that is interested in literally everything, out of all the things in the world, still chooses you.