I have had many dogs over the course of my life, but no cats. After living in Istanbul for a month, the felines have my heart, too.
Any visitor to Istanbul will appreciate why Istanbul earned the moniker the City of Cats. It is believed that Ottoman sailors brought cats aboard their ships to control the rat population. The cats made it onto land and proliferated. I saw not one rodent during my four weeks ambling on the streets of one of Europe’s largest cities. I saw hundreds of cats, however, including in restaurants, atop cars, on windowsills, on barstools, and more. They own this city.
Cats were considered to be sacred creatures in ancient times, with magical powers, protecting from evil spirits and bringing good luck and prosperity. In this predominantly Muslim city, the cats are treated not as strays, but as communal pets. One imam is quoted as calling cats the “mute servants” of Allah. Any mistreatment of cats here is met with outrage. The Turkish saying, “If you kill a cat, you need to build a mosque to gain God’s forgiveness,” originates from a folktale about the Prophet Mohammed’s pet cat. Ubiquitous cats are a unique and beloved part of the city’s culture.
Cat houses, installed by municipalities or residents, can be seen on numerous wall ledges and apartment building windowsills. Some are like fancy oversized dollhouses; some are no more than lined cardboard boxes. Food and water bowls are seemingly peppered everywhere. Horizontally sliced plastic bottles seen along the sidewalks and filled with water are meant for the cats.
Animal welfare organizations and informal community groups work to improve the lives of Turkish cats, and employ vaccination and sterilization programs. Many of the street cats are adopted by residents. The country has a no kill, no capture policy. Istanbulites’ affinity for cats seems universal and social media videos featuring some of Istanbul’s cats have gone viral over the years.
One such famous cat, Tombili (Turkish for chubby), was honored post-mortem with a sculpture that recreated his reclining pose, leaning back casually propped up on one arm against a step as he gazes at passersby. A change.org petition asking for the municipality to commemorate Tombili’s contribution to public life garnered 17,000 signatures, resulting in the monument’s creation. The bronze statue’s inauguration on 2016’s World Wildlife Day was aired on Turkish television.
In Kadıköy’s Moda neighborhood, on the Asia side of Istanbul, lifelong resident Burcu Taskiran has provided care for decades for the cats and dogs in her community. She and a group of Moda residents work together to provide individualized care for street animals, taking them to veterinarians or finding homes for them when necessary. Taskiran has adopted many of the street animals; she currently houses one cat and three former street dogs in her apartment, one of which has cancer. Taskiran and her neighbors try to raise money when the street animals need medical care. She recently established a GoFundMe page for the beloved ailing dog’s expensive chemotherapy treatments.
I took a cat and dog tour in Moda, which Taskiran led. It was unlike any tour I have taken in the 67 countries I have visited around the world. She knew by name every cat and dog we encountered. They clearly recognized her and often greeted her with affection. She knew their temperaments, packs (in the case of the dogs), and fiefdoms. Her presence seemed to make the animals believe we were safe to approach. One cat in particular won my affection when she crawled onto my lap after Taskiran guided me to sit on a certain wall.
A Russian visitor who became aware of Taskiran’s work nominated her in 2024 for an international award for people who have distinguished themselves in the protection of wildlife. She was flown to Zelenogradsk, Russia, for the award ceremony.
None of the cats or dogs I encountered appeared to want for food in the four weeks I spent traversing the city. Many were quite plump from the generosity of their neighbors. The communities’ inhabitants regularly feed the animals. I also observed restaurant workers leaving food out for their furry friends.
One can scarcely walk a block in this enormous city without spotting a cat curled up on a car hood or other warm spot. It was not unusual to see cats sitting on chairs or tables in restaurants or on barstools in pubs. Almost every café has a resident cat who typically, if not sleeping, looked upon those entering with imperious eyes. I was startled by a cat sleeping on a shelf among the Turkish towels I was perusing in a shop. The store owner was bemused. Cats also can be seen stealing fish from the fishermen’s buckets on the bridges around Istanbul. They stole one from a friend of mine and he did not bat an eye. I observed a cat run across a stage at an opera in Istanbul, as well as during prayers at mosques. Even the historic Hagia Sofia had a famous resident cat, Gli, who delighted visitors for 16 years, including President Barack Obama. No one but foreigners appear surprised by cats’ presence everywhere.
The garden at the apartment building at which I resided had an orange tabby that ruled the premises. She allowed only one calico cat to spend any time in the small garden. When we fed the cats, she often hissed away the others that came running when aromatic food was offered. She rewarded us with daily shows on our windowsill.
Kedi, a 2016 documentary about the hundreds of thousands of stray cats in Istanbul, won critical acclaim. John Powers of National Public Radio said of the film, “We see that these cats aren’t merely wondrous creatures in themselves, but that they enrich the whole city. They give people around them a vision of another freer, wilder, more spontaneous form of life, one that can be easily lost in a huge, stressful, rapidly modernizing place like Istanbul.” Cats are indeed accepted and embraced as part of the social fabric of life in Istanbul.
A legion of cats lounge on the large rocks lining the Marmara Sea and Bosphorus Strait on the Asian side of the city that straddles two continents. They will share their spot with you, especially if you have a tasty snack for them. Istanbul’s cats are, in some ways, a symbol of the city’s hospitality.