You might think me mad, but I’m not embarrassed to admit that, having spent many years devoting myself to rescuing and caring for animals in need, I invest a large amount of emotion even in animals I’ve never met: Elsa the lion; Knut the polar bear; Dolly the sheep. In fact, I don’t believe that there’s ever been an animal that didn’t capture my heart in some way, and nowhere is that more true than with Street Cat Bob. If you don’t know who Street Cat Bob is, now would be a good time to familiarise yourself with his story. Reading owner James Bowen’s book, A Street Cat Named Bob, will bring you up to speed.
It was June 2020 that Bob met an untimely demise after having been struck by a car. I never met Bob, but like millions of other people around the globe, I fell in love with that ginger tabby who rode buses with Bowen all over London, keeping him company whilst he spent his days busking, or selling the Big Issue. Bob seemed to turn up in Bowen’s life just about the time James was trying to overcome a heroin addiction, and Bob’s own need for medical attention gave Bowen the impetus he needed to wean himself off methadone. Once they were both healthy, James and Bob made a formidable team that tourists couldn’t resist. People from near and far paused to take pictures of James and Bob high-fiving each other. Eventually, word spread, the right person wrote an article about them, and the rest is the stuff of legend.
Over time, there developed a level of intimacy between them that only comes around once or twice in a lifetime. I’ve loved many cats in my day, but only with two did I experience what I call a “love affair,” a state of being in which souls become intertwined, words are unnecessary, and the depth of that emotional intimacy is only truly realized once that animal is gone. Indeed, my only thought, when my own beloved cat died two years ago, was that I wished I would hurry up and die so that I could be with her again. I’ve no doubt that Bowen experienced a similar state of agony upon hearing of Bob’s death.
That death gutted millions. I, myself, vacillated between two of the five stages of grief: anger and denial. How was it possible, I wondered at the time, that such a beloved figure could be hit by a car and meet with what the Daily Mail called an utterly unfitting end? It was, in its own way, as unbelievable as the death of the Princess of Wales had been: some people simply aren’t supposed to die before their time, and never mind that life was unfair long before those two passed.
I spoke with Mr. Bowen recently. I wanted to mark the anniversary of Bob’s passing, and talking with his human seemed a good starting point. When I asked James how he had spent the day, he replied saying he had a small “Bob shrine,” in his home where Bob’s ashes reside, and he spent some time reflecting on the impact that ginger tabby had made on the world. Indeed, he mentioned a shelter in Japan for homeless people with cats. The shelter was named Bob’s Place, after that famous British tabby.
For reasons I can only guess, there became a sort of fad, when Bob was alive, in which people around the world knitted Bob-sized scarves and mailed them to Bowen, who says that Bob enjoyed wearing them. With that in mind, I asked James how many countries he heard from after the news of Bob’s death broke.
“It would be easier to name the countries I didn’t hear from,” he said with a small chuckle, “North Korea, for one. Antarctica.” Can you imagine that – a cat, a homeless cat who chose Bowen to be his friend, ended up making such an impact on the world that some person in, say, Guatemala, felt compelled to send condolences? Amazing.
Because he himself had once been homeless, Mr. Bowen began a platform of bringing attention to the plight of the homeless back when Bob was still alive, and his efforts continue to this day. He hopes to make a documentary on how homelessness is dealt with in countries around the world. He’s also focused on two of his other passions – cats, and music. If you go to Youtube and put And Then Came Bob* in the search line, you’ll find James singing a very endearing song about his life before and during the Bob years. It sums up their lives together better than anything I could say.
Perhaps the most lasting legacy to his life with Bob is the statue that’s been cast in bronze by sculptor Tanya Russell, to be unveiled 12 July in Islington Green, near the Angel tube station where James and Bob sold the Big Issue.
“Is the statue of Bob wearing a scarf?” I inquired.
“Of course!” James replied.
“And how did you teach Bob to high-five?”
“Love, perseverance, and lots of treats!” I’ve no doubt that Mr. Bowen has all three in abundance.
If you wish to donate to help pay for the license, landscaping, and statue of Bob, please visit Bowen’s GoFundMe page at https://gofund.me/39397b2c
* © D.Ferris/G.Macari/R.Ferris. Proceeds from the song are donated to The Big Issue Foundation, supporting homeless people across the UK. Mr. Bowen hoped I would also mention Angel’s Rush, a poignant song he penned detailing his feelings of isolation and invisibility whilst on the streets trying to sell the Big Issue.
