Of all the assignments I have covered as a journalist, the one that gave me the most enviable claim to fame was my role in the appointment of Larry the Downing Street cat.
I was working for The Times in 2011 when our lobby team got wind that David Cameron was about to give the go-ahead to recruiting a new Chief Mouser to the Cabinet Office.
The “pro-cat faction” within No 10 had overcome the naysayers and were about to send a staff member to pick one out at Battersea Dogs & Cats Home. I got there first.
Ros Davies, one of the cat “rehomers” at Batttersea, proudly showed off five cats that she thought had the hunting instinct and statesmanlike charisma to succeed in the job.
I noted that Larry was top of the list. “Ms Davies’s favourite for the job is Larry,” I wrote, “a four-year-old tabby and white cat with an imposing presence lent by his larger than normal head. His affable manner belies his background as a mouse-bothering stray on the streets of south London. An appointment to high office would represent not only a leap up the social ladder worthy of a Disney film, but also a reward for his stoicism yesterday after being castrated.”
Two weeks later, I was in Downing Street to witness the Battersea van drive up to the door of No 10 and deliver the new mouser. To my delight, I recognised the cat in the cage as Larry.
The truth emerges
For years, I would tell anyone who would listen that it was surely my description of Larry that led to his appointment. It was not until 2022 that I learnt that there was a far more convincing reason why Larry had beaten the others on the shortlist. Incidentally, the other candidates were Crockett (a panther-like beast, I noted at the time), Bart (more of a lover than a fighter), Spencer (small but vocal) and Trixie (sprightly and a deadly hunter).
The truth emerged after a woman describing herself only as “Helen from Upminster” contacted Times Radio to recall meeting a man from No 10 while she was standing in the queue to see the late Queen’s coffin lying in state. Helen said that she got chatting to David, an Australian staff member, who told her that he selected Harry because he was “calm and unbothered about whether he was picked up or not, unlike other more needy cats, who miaowed and wanted attention”.
What David may not have known was that Larry’s subdued state was almost certainly caused by the operation the previous day to remove his (Larry’s) testicles.
In any case, David chose well. Larry, now 19, celebrated 15 years in office by catching and devouring a mouse in front of the cameras in Downing Street.
What happened to the other candidates who might have been chosen in Larry’s stead? It was a feline Sliding Doors moment.
I was able to trace Spencer to Highgate, north London, where he was having a comfortable life with his owner Vicki Gibbs and her family. They invited me to visit him. The Times also dispatched Jack Hill, a photographer best known for his war photojournalism, to snap the cat.
Crockett went to live in Forest Hill, southeast London. He was renamed Bobby after the footballer Bobby Charlton and died at the age of eight or nine. Trixie found a home in Hackney, east London, before moving to Hampshire and dying in 2015.
Only Bart eluded me. If anyone should know of his fate, please let me know in the comments below.








