For hundreds of years, sailors brought cats to sea. Officially the ship's cat was there to keep the mice out of the grain. Unofficially, every crew knew exactly who was running the vessel. Navy Cat, the cat at the helm of the Cats collection, is that old tradition finally given the rank it always deserved: a tabby in full officer's uniform, whiskers bristling, holding a beer and looking at you like you are late for inspection. Above and below him, banners spell out I've Got This… Hold My Beer, which is about as close to a compliment as he is going to give you.
Whiskers at attention
He is a big orange and cream tabby with a thick ruff of fur and a stare that could stop a mutiny. On his head sits a white-topped officer's cap with a gold emblem and braid on the brim, tilted exactly the right amount. His dark jacket is buttoned all the way up, finished with a little row of decorations on the chest, and he is framed inside a deep blue circle trimmed with a pair of golden laurel branches. The whole thing looks like an official portrait that hangs in the captain's quarters, and he would like you to notice that it is framed.
Off watch, on his terms
Look down and you will find his paw wrapped around a tall golden beer with a foam head, held right at the center of the design like a ceremonial object. He is not smiling. Cats in charge do not smile. But there is a very slight softening around the eyes that suggests the watch has ended, the ship is sailing smooth and he has decided, graciously, to allow himself one small reward. The banners on either side, black with bold white letters, frame him like a unit crest. If he had a second paw free, he would be pointing at the deck you forgot to swab.
For the one who inspects everything and approves of nothing
This design is for the sailors, the veterans and the officers who still fold the towels in perfect thirds, and for the cat people who have accepted that their cat is the actual head of the household. It is for the friend who walks into your kitchen, quietly straightens a picture frame and says nothing, and for anyone who has ever been judged, silently and completely, by an orange tabby from across the room. Picture your person giving the whole party a slow once-over before deciding it will do, and you will know. The ship is in port and the crew is on shore leave. The cat stayed aboard, because somebody has to be in command.
Written by Liam. Thanks for reading.
