Cats go to battle in hats

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 11/07/2018 (2958 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

With all the thrilling news stories generating headlines around the world, I’m guessing most of you are champing at the bit to hear what I did during my weeklong summer vacation.

Well, prepare to become insanely jealous, because I agreed to spend the first day of my holiday judging the Cats In Hats competition at the Manitoba Cat Club’s annual show at St. Vital Centennial Arena.

Naturally, they don’t let just anyone do this. Judging cats in hats is the kind of swell thing you get invited to do when, as a big-shot newspaper columnist, you achieve the lofty title of “Outstanding Local Personality.”

When I strolled down to ice level at the arena, the first thing I discovered what that — YIKES! — I was about 90 minutes early for the big competition, meaning I had to spend that time wandering around and forming professional journalistic thoughts about show cats and their owners.

The organizers felt I was qualified to be their “celebrity judge” on the grounds that three years earlier, I judged the Cat/Owner Pyjama Contest, which attracted precisely four contestants, including a woman with a stuffed-toy cat and another woman who said her unclad kitty was wearing “invisible pyjamas.”

If you have never been to a cat show before, it is exactly like a dog show or a boat show, except instead of dogs and boats they have more cats than you can shake a rubber mouse at.

Ice level was crammed with tables groaning under the weight of dozens and dozens of highly decorated cat carriers, which look exactly like little mountain tents, except they are stuffed with extremely pampered show cats instead of overly enthusiastic campers wearing plaid shirts and cargo pants.

I spent about five minutes standing behind one cat groomer who used a tiny brush to painstakingly apply makeup that transformed her pet from a normal show cat to a show cat with professionally applied makeup. Not that I personally could tell the difference or anything.

There were also tables festooned with every manner of cat-related product you could imagine, including cat toys, cat portraits, cat blankets, cat mugs, cat T-shirts and cat jewelry, to name just a few.

As I wandered around, I bumped into St. Vital MLA Colleen Mayer, who had set up a table where she was handing out cat treats along with bottles of water and fridge magnets adorned with a photo of her smiling face.

In an effort to fritter away some time before the judging began, I pressed Colleen on the hot-button issue of whether cats actually enjoy wearing hats. “I like the book The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss,” she pointed out.

I also spent some time observing the judging process, which involves a judge plucking a cat from a cage, then subjecting it to a vigorous full body exam on a viewing table under what appears to be a table lamp, while the owners sit on folding chairs and applaud wildly when their cat is being poked and prodded.

Dalmar Matheson, president of the Manitoba Cat Club, explained the owners are pretty serious about winning ribbons because that earns their pets points toward awards and regional championships.

The cats compete in a wide variety of categories, including kittens, household pets, long-hair, short-hair, non-neutered and neutered.

“We had 82 cats registered for the show this year and people from all over — Newfoundland, Florida, Saskatchewan and Indiana, just to name a few,” Dalmar told me. “They’re working toward grand champion status. I will tell you, everyone wants to win. They’re very serious.”

On the internet, there are probably more photos of cats wearing hats than there are photos of Pamela Anderson wearing her Baywatch bathing suit, which does not say a great deal for the future of western civilization.

“If you go on the internet, there are some folks who design special hats for cats,” Dalmar noted. “The owners think it’s cute, but you get the funniest looks from your cat.”

The last thing I did before judging was witness something I had never seen in my life — a display of cat agility, wherein a trainer got her felines to go up and down ramps, balance on the soles of her feet, navigate traffic pylons, jump through suspended hoops, scoot through collapsible tunnels and sniff out someone’s car keys that had been hidden in one of three glittery silver boxes.

I imagine it is only a matter of time until cats are helping the police investigate complex crimes, but that is not the point. The point is I had to pick three winners from a field of 11 cats whose owners had decked them out in a flamboyant assortment of feline chapeaux.

There were cats in pirate hats and devil hats and damsel-in-distress hats and, well, you get the thrust of my judging gist.

I was going to have the audience pick the winners via applause, but the contestants said that would freak out their cats, who were already somewhat stressed by the indignity of being forced to don dorky headgear.

The grand prize (a cat bed and mug) went to Leo, a stern-faced, two-year-old Himalayan, whose owner had decked him out in a Viking-style horned helmet and a bright orange beard.

“I’m surprised we won,” Leo’s owner, Brittney Maskewich, a 26-year-old certified feline master groomer from Regina, said with pride. “There were a lot of fun hats. He doesn’t try to shake them off, so I don’t think he’s unhappy about wearing them. He’s just chill. This breed is laid-back.”

Brittney explained Leo is her only show cat, though she owns 13 other felines. The Viking gear was a costume bought for one of the other cats.

“It was the only hat we had,” she confided. “We also had a little axe and shield. It looked good on him.”

Which is when I headed outside to resume my vacation and, of course, I put on a hat because it was a hot day. Also, I licked the sunscreen off my hairy arms, so there’s that.

doug.speirs@freepress.mb.ca