De-meow-crat-ya: Taking my cat to vote in municipal elections - comment

Elections in Israel always means lots of pictures of families at the voting booths, parents with their children, and sometimes dogs with their humans. But what about cats? Do cats ever go to vote?

I decided to find out by going to vote with my cat, Medici – full name: HaRav Medici di Cuddlebutt Reich.

Now, I can already hear the objections. Cats can’t understand politics, cats can’t go outside safely, cats bother some people – I’ve heard it all before. But Jerusalem is home to hundreds of thousands of the furry felines, so it makes sense that they would want to be involved. Plus, at the mature age of seven, Medici is more than old enough – and smart enough – to understand the intricacies of municipal politics: He just doesn’t care (probably because he’s not allowed to vote). 

That’s not to say he’s apolitical – rather, he is a staunch supporter of the Sephardi haredi party Shas, having more than once been impressed seeing a picture of Arye Deri on my computer screen (as good a reason as any I suppose, although I must emphasize that Medici’s political opinions are his own). As for going outside, he is a veteran indoor-outdoor cat, experienced at traversing the mean streets of Katamon.

So with that in mind, I put him on his leash, got him into his cat backpack, packed some treats, and off we went.

Feline political: Voting with a cat in the Jerusalem elections

I wasn’t sure if they would let him in at first – after all, he didn’t have a teudat zehut (Israeli ID card), despite his keen wisdom and feline age. I was hoping that this wouldn’t turn into a catastrophe, but to my pleasant surprise, my arrival to vote with my cat was a delight to everyone around.

I got on line. At first Medici was hesitant and so took a short paws, but then he got on the feline. He was rather quiet at first, so much so that it took time for people to notice he was even there. Until he started his famous meowing that is, no doubt reflecting his anxiety about voting (even though he couldn’t), and also no doubt it being a cry for democracy – short for “de-meow-crat-ya.”

Soon, everyone cooed and swooned over his first visit to the polls as his big kitty eyes surveyed the room. Surely he was wondering if any fellow Shas supporters (who could actually vote) were in attendance.

When it was my turn to vote, I headed on into the room where the booth was. As I gave my ID card to the voting workers, they smiled at Medici as his meows echoed throughout the room.

“Don’t tell me,” one worker said: “He wants to vote for Meowor Moshe Lion.”

While not his political affiliation, it was no doubt a purrrfect paw-litical pun, a downright claw-ssic.

But as Medici jealously looked on as I voted, I also realized that bringing a cat to the polling station could perhaps make a difference – by influencing others. I remember what the person behind me in line said as I went in: “Yeah, I’m voting after the cat,” he said. “If [he mistakenly thought] the cat can vote, then clearly I have to vote, too.”

A victory for de-meow-crat-ya, indeed. 

Natan Rothstein catributed to this article.