By Team Purranormal

Good evening, Li Shou. Would you like to give my guests a little information about where we’re starting out?

I believe I shall, as I was merely playing with the falling leaves. It will be simple enough to return to it later. Honored guests, welcome to 500 BCE China. I am the eldest feline you will meet today, but there are those older than even myself. Cats are thought to have been domesticated in Egypt in 7500 BCE. Since then, we have spread dramatically, across the lands, over the years, due to our clever hunting and simple adorableness. Felines spread to China in -

Ahem, sorry Li Shou, but you’re getting a bit off track.

Oh! I apologize for my carelessness.

Quite alright. Now, would you mind moving on to telling us about your life?

That is a wonderful tale! My story is considered part of the Chinese 'creation myth,' as I was

made when the world was new. While I am a goddess, I have always been more of a minor one. When the great gods had just made the world, they found they needed someone to watch over their creation in order to make sure it didn’t fall into chaos and disorder. You see, the gods' timescales are not the same as our own. So they entrusted the task to me and my fellow felines. To aid us in this task, they gave us the gift of language and communication. For a while, we wandered the world and watched diligently. Everything seemed to be going well. The world was quite beautiful, and there was this nice cherry tree with just the perfect amount of sunlight and the softest, springiest grass at the base and -

Li Shou, I think you’re getting a little distracted.?

Yes, well, anyway, I fell asleep. The gods returned after a while and woke me, and showed me that the world was falling into

chaos. They chastised me, but they reset the world and allowed me another chance. Again, my compatriots and I patrolled tirelessly, finding the world had no disarray in it. And, once again, I found a lovely cherry tree with irresistible falling leaves and blooms, and I could not help but bat and frolic and enjoy the wonderful scents of the flowers and grasses, and -

Li Shou, please.

Right, so the gods returned again. They showed me the chaos the world was succumbing to while I played, but once again only told me to keep abreast of my duty before restoring the world and leaving. I was determined not to fail this time! I assiduously walked the world, keeping watch of the creatures and spirits. But, to my great shame, I caught sight of a butterfly. I was unable to look away from its simple grace, and I stalked it, taking in every detail of its ethereal wings, mesmerizing colors.

I found it quite fun to keep with its erratic pace, and I chased it for quite a while, and -

...Li.

Yes, so I had been distracted again. The gods returned, and I realized that felines were not the right creatures for this responsibility. I told them as such, and they wondered who would be better for the job. I told them of a creature I had seen that looked to have great ambition and caring, one that you guests might find familiar. This creature was the human, of course. The gods told me I had chosen well, but that they needed to give the gift of language to the ones that were protecting the world from chaos, so cats would no longer be able to speak. They gave the humans their communication instead, but thehumans were deaf to the gods commands. The gods turned back to us, the cats, and saw by our knowing looks that we could still understand them. So we were appointed to be the bridge

between the humans and the gods, and to keep watch over time. These lesser responsibilities meant that we could sleep and play and frolic without remorse, though we were still held in regard. Additionally, due to our new responsibilities to keep track of time, humans would be able to tell what time it was by looking into our eyes!

And that’s Li Shou’s story, folks. Next we’ll be jumping ahead nearly two millennia to the Celtic nations in the 1300s to meet -

Oh! That reminds me of another story! There was this one time that -

Bye!

Why, hello there Scampy, it’s so nice to see you again! Have you brought me some fresh souls...?

What a shame...

Why of course I wouldn’t mind! Hello humans, I’m a cait sidhe, also known as a cait sith. This translates to your language as 'cat fairy', and if you know anything about the Celtic fae you may have an idea of what we’re all about... Mostly clever wording and strict rules on favors, so if you want to be safe, simply don’t deal with the fae! Hmm, what more should you know... some people believe that we’re witches who can turn into a cat only nine times in their lifetime - should they turn into a cat the ninth time they’ll never be a human again! What else should I tell them, Scampy?

No, Cait, today’s the Purranormal tour. These particular humans aren’t for snacking.

Some other time. Would you mind telling my guests about yourself?

How about some tales about the cait sidhe?

Quite, let me think... Of, a good one is the story called The Farmer's Cat! So, once there was a farmer, and was out and about when he saw one of our funeral processions, eight of us carrying a coffin with a long line of more behind. Of course, the cait sidhe there were just carrying on, because our king had died! The farmer could tell because the coffin was draped with the royal seal - oh, and because the cait sidhe were chanting about it, saying "Poor Tim Toldrum has died!" - so he went home and told his wife about it. So their housecat sat up and said "Old Tim is dead? That means I, Tom Tildrum, am the new king!" Then he went up the chimney and was never seen by the farmers again, because he had been a cait sidhe in disguise.

Where am I in the line of succession, Cait?

You’re not in it. Oh, and another tale I know is called Irusan, King of the Cats! First, you have to know about the main character, Senchan Torpeist. He was a poet with great ability to insult people with his words. Once, he rhymed at some mice so well they dropped dead of shame! Anyway, Senchan went to visit the human King Guaire, and simply would not eat anything the king offered. He found something wrong with every bit of it! Finally, he agreed to eat an egg, but a rat came and stole the egg before he could eat it. This made him so mad, he started criticizing in rhyme all the cats of the land, including the cait sidhe King Irusan. Well, King Irusan immediately showed up and was going to give Senchan a beating, but St. Kieran stopped them. Of course, Senchan showed his appreciation with more scathing poetry!

Your stories sure are... interesting, Cait. Why don’t you finish up by telling the humans more about what you guys do in the Celtic nations?

Well, when we’re not hunting or pretending to be house cats, we usually spend time looking for funerals. We like souls, so those sitting around before funerals happen are ripe for the picking! Even if we can’t get the souls, the humans like to distract us with games, riddles, music, catnip, and warm fires. So it’s really a big party! Another thing we do is celebrate Samhain. If everyone doesn’t leave out a treat for us like a saucer of milk, we trick them by making their cows dry up for a year! It’s great fun.

You have to invite me down for Samhain sometime. That's everything Cait Sidhe has to share with us, so next we'll be going to the Edo period in Japan. Make sure you have all your items and friends before we leave!

Greetings, Bakeneko-san! It is nice to see you again. Why don’t you tell my honored guests a little bit about yourself?

Only for you, Scamp-san. You know I don’t care for humans. My kind is that of a housecat that has transformed into a yokai, a class of supernatural monsters from Japanese culture. We can transform in one of two ways. Either we are attracted to and drink enough of the lamp oil that humans used to use, which contained fish oil, or we simply live long enough to transform.

There’s another kind of cat yokai from Japanese lore, though, right? Could you tell me how you differ?

You speak of the nekomata. True, we tend to be very similar, and many believe that a nekomata is simply an older and more powerful bakeneko. However, one can easily tell the difference between us when looking at our tails. Bakeneko have a single long tail, while a nekomata’s tail has split into two.

Then you can very clearly be told apart. A cat’s tail is quite important, after all.

This is true, and part of the reason I revile humans. You see, our tail growing long was thought to aid in the transformation to a bakeneko, so superstitious humans would cut them short when we were young. This is why bobtail cats are so common in Japan. Additionally, many years ago, humans would designate a time period they would allow us to live and then kill us after this period so we wouldn’t grow old enough to transform. They believed we would haunt and kill them after we changed, though many times it has simply been revenge for poor treatment.

Some humans can be quite awful. I’m sorry for your kind’s loss. Would you like to talk about kinder humans?

Of course. While the nekomata is always malevolent in folklore, we bakeneko can be quite kind when not offended. There are many tales of us coming back to repay the humans who took us in and loved us. Additionally, one of the symbols of Japan, the maneki-neko that can be seen waving from many shops, is a bakeneko.

The maneki-neko brings luck, and depending on the posture and fur color can bring many types of fortune, though the most common is supposed to bring in wealth and customers.

How elegant of you! If simple statues of you can bring luck, what other mystical powers do you have?

Ah, yes. My kind has many abilities. We can shapeshift, generally into humans, speak the human tongue, stand on our hind legs, curse people, raise the dead, and even control fire. Of course, not all of us have all these abilities, but they all exist in the bakeneko kind.

Hey, is it true that when you guys shapeshift into humans, you get so happy you put a napkin on your head and dance?

I think we’re done here.

Alright guys, time to move onto Russia in the late 1700s! Quickly now!

Welcome to Russia, home of the mysterious storyteller, Kot Bayun!

You’re kind of ruining my introduction.

I just wanted to tell you Kot, please don’t put them to sleep and eat them. I know they signed the waivers, but my company needs good reviews.

Fine, but you owe me a snack later. Anyway, as Scamp said, I am the Kot Bayun, which essentially translates to 'cat storyteller.' I live on top of an iron post in the empty and dead forest on the edge of the afterlife, guiding souls over the river Smorodina to the afterlife. Those that come alive seeking passage, however… I tell them stories, legends and fairytales, and sing in my magic voice as they approach, and if they fall asleep I eat them. However, if they are able to resist sleeping or best

me in combat, they have my aid, either in healing or wisdom.

Gee, who could best you, Kot?

Don’t take that tone with me. I will tell you humans this as you cannot get to my river, but a human has beaten me before, but only by preparing. Once a human came with iron armor, including iron gloves and several iron caps. I was able to break many of them with my great strength and iron claws, but it exhausted me, and because of that he was able to capture me before I ate him.

Some stories speak of you differently, though, don’t they?

True, some tales place me on a golden chain in a live oak that is part of the World Tree, but that is a later invention brought about by people seeing me wandering. Also, many know that I am the companion of Baba Yaga, the woman who lives in the house that stands on chicken legs, and I visit her sometimes.

There’s another thing you want to tell them, right?

Scamp would have me inform you that I have a 'soft side'. Over the years, I have been known to help soothe restless children into sleep for only a small gift of pie or milk. However, I have never been the ruthless monster some make me out to be. Simply do not fall asleep when I tell stories, and nothing bad will happen!

That’s true, Kot. Well, with that story by the narrating cat over, it’s time to head to the deceptively named Iceland, just a few years in the future, the early 1800s. Iceland may be green, but we’re headed there at Yule time so keep yourcoats on!

Hello Jo- Jolaka- Jokala- YULE CAT! How are you doing?

Still can’t pronounce my name, can you? That is alright, and I’m well, little one. Merely watching which of the farmhands are shirking their duties.

Ooh, they’re in for a fun time. So... Yule Cat, you can see I’m hosting a tour here. Do you mind telling my guests about you?

That wouldn’t be a problem. Listen well, humans. I am the Yule Cat of Iceland, though many know me as Jólakötturinn (Scamp does not, however). I show up at Yule and see which of the children have not received new clothes, and I EAT THEM.

Yep, a fun time! Please, go on.

Well, many years ago, the people of my land farmed a great deal of wool. If the wool was not harvested and processed in time, there would be no warm new clothes for the Yule celebration and oncoming winter. Therefore, I am truly around to punish those who are lazy. I’m not the fashion police.

And sometimes I don’t eat people, I just take their Yule feast and presents, which might be a worse fate for humans.

That would be a worse fate for me too, and even if my human is lazy you can’t take my Christmas ham. Anyway, could you tell me more about your life and powers?

Well, I do have my own family. I live with Grýla the giantess, an ogre who goes out and catches naughty children in a sack around Yule to make into stew. Her husband, the troll Leppalúði, and their many children including the most famous thirteen known as the Yule Lads, help her in this.

As for powers… I am simply a very large cat. I have no special abilities beyond my amazing reflexes, flexible body, powerful senses, and all the other things every cat possesses.

And those powers would be enough for anyone. Okay, one last thing. Is it true that you have a poem written about you?

Yes. I can recite some of it for you, if you would like. Of course, it was originally written in Icelandic, but I can translate it to English for your odd guests.

Absolutely!

You all know the Yule Cat
And that Cat was huge indeed.
People didn’t know where he came from
Or where he went.

He opened his glaring eyes wide,
The two of them glowing bright.
It took a really brave man
To look straight into them.

His whiskers, sharp as bristles,
His back arched up high.
And the claws of his hairy paws
Were a terrible sight.

He gave a wave of his strong tail,
He jumped and he clawed and he hissed.
Sometimes up in the valley,
Sometimes down by the shore.

He roamed at large, hungry and evil
In the freezing Yule snow.
In every home
People shuddered at his name.

If one heard a pitiful "meow"
Something evil would happen soon.
Everybody knew he hunted men
But didn't care for mice.

Someone should write a poem about me. Are you humans ready for the last stop? We’re headed to Washington D.C. in the civil war era! Prepare yourselves for a final fearsome feline!

Well hallo, Scamp, have you come to jaw with little old me?

Me and the tourists, yeah. How are you doing?

Mighty fine, mighty fine, bit of a hankering to fill my bread basket but it can wait. You want me to teach these fresh fish here?

That’s the plan.

Let’s set to it! We don’t want Scamp here to have to show his teeth, hah. Call me Demon Cat or D.C. for short. I’m an old hand in this here city! So the big wigs were having a rodent problem in the tunnels under the city and needed us cats to play smash them. Those graybacks didn’t know what hit them!

D.C.’s an amazing mouser, and loved his work so much he kept going after he died. But then the guards found him around, and...

Yup, those coffee coolers saw me mousing and thought I should go boil my shirt!

All those "you are growing in size alarmingly" and "your glowing eyes are unnerving". Yellow bellied bad eggs spouting complete balderdash! They said I was hard-looking, but those hacked guards just had too much hot stuff and were on the jim jams if you ask me. They were always peacocking about, so I’d be a bit of a muggins and give them a bluff, just lunge at them or pretend to explode, so they had something of a mule with me.

Well, you still like to freak out the guards, but I know you have other stuff to do with your time.

Well, I don’t show up much anymore, just around the hard knocks like when the President’s change places, to try and get more people to use their horse sense instead of having conniption fits. I appear before national tragedies to knock people into a cocked hat, but they always think I’m just doing a humbug. Also, I spend my summers in Washington’s high-falutin tomb at Mount Vernon.

Nice to know you’re doing well.

You too. Say, you’ve been scarce as hen’s teeth lately. We should grab a root sometime and don’t you dare take any French leave on me!

Of course D.C., I’ll see you around soon. Alright humans, that does it for the Purranormal tour. I hope you enjoyed your stay on this adventure through times and places, and appreciated all the wonderful felines you’ve met. Don’t trip on the way out and please tip your tour guide well!