9 lives, 3 terms, at the Capitol

SACRAMENTO —  We are standing outside the Capitol’s east door, early one misty morning in December. Very Important People are rushing by, juggling cell phones, Palm Pilots and coffee cups.

Just off the pathway, behind a thick hedge, a shadowy figure lurks, watching the human parade with a look of practiced disdain. She has seen this all before, the hustle-bustle that accompanies the dawn of a new legislative season at the California statehouse. She is not impressed.

Politicians come and go in this age of term limits, but one constant remains at the government building with the big white dome: Capitol Kitty. The People’s Cat.

For 13 years, this portly black feline has patrolled the political sidelines here, tended by a loyal cadre of state workers who buy her food and cart her off to the vet every once in a while.

Now Capitol Kitty is enjoying a rare moment of celebrity, starring in a children’s book written by no less a luminary than the governor’s wife.

Last week marked the official launch of “The Adventures of Capitol Kitty.” At a festive ceremony, First Lady Sharon Davis read the book to some third-graders and spent almost two hours signing copies. Capitol Kitty puppets were hawked as well, with proceeds -- from the book and the toy -- going toward school libraries.

Just up the street, the real Capitol Kitty seemed oblivious to all the fuss, spending her day as she always does -- contemplating squirrels, catnapping and eating.

For the cat’s devoted fans, however, the book and attendant publicity are a big deal. They are buying up copies for friends and relatives, and eagerly sharing anecdotes about the real kitty’s real life. Capitol Kitty has finally been discovered, and her caretakers couldn’t be more thrilled.

“She’s an icon around here,” says Bernadette McNulty, a Senate clerk who has the challenging job of catching Capitol Kitty for vet visits. “We’re all very protective of her.”

Ernie Wright, who runs a shoeshine stand in the Capitol, agrees that the now-famous feline possesses a special something that draws people to her. Not that she’s drawn to them, of course. Wright, who feeds the cat every day, says that in nine years, she has deigned to rub against his leg exactly twice.

“Not real generous with affection,” Wright says with a grin. “But I love her.”

Political animals

It is not surprising that someone finally decided to immortalize Capitol Kitty in print. Animals and politics, after all, seem a popular combination.

Former First Lady Barbara Bush wrote a bestseller about first pooch Millie, and Hillary Rodham Clinton penned a tell-all about letters written to her family’s White House pets. Photos of presidents and their dogs are a staple of White House imagery.

California’s first couple is currently pet-less, though Mrs. Davis grew up in a household filled with animals and is a devout cat lover. These days, she says, she’s away from home too often to give a pet the attention it needs.

The first lady’s first encounter with Capitol Kitty -- whom some call Sen. Kitty because she favors the Senate side of the statehouse -- came early in the governor’s first term, when the cat appeared on her office window ledge.

“That was the first and last time the cat ever came to see me,” Sharon Davis says with a laugh. But it was inspiration enough.

She has always wanted to write a book, Davis says, and lit upon the idea of a children’s story to help raise money for the Governor’s Book Fund, which buys books for school libraries.

Like many first-time authors, Davis found the writing a struggle. Her first draft was rejected by the publisher, Scholastic Inc., and the second draft met a similar fate. Scholastic gently suggested a ghostwriter, but Davis insisted she could pull it off.

Her third story -- about Capitol Kitty’s plot to scare off an intruder feline she sees as a threat to her status as top cat -- was a hit.

The book has drawn favorable reviews and sold well, making a second printing of 10,000 copies likely. Kids particularly enjoy the disruption of official business during the cats’ wild romp through the Capitol.

Said Shawn Ivory, 9, of Sacramento: “I like the part when the cats slide off the table into the governor’s lap. It’s pretty funny.”

In Capitol offices, aides are chuckling as well, but not just over the story. Some of the illustrations, by Daniel San Souci, bear a striking resemblance to certain legislators, and aides have made a game of guessing who’s who.

Sharon Davis insists that the drawing of the governor is the only one intended to look like the real guy. And she can’t resist adding a political aside: “It’s a good thing Gray won a second term. That picture of the governor in the book doesn’t look a thing like Bill Simon.”

A kitty with clout

Like all savvy strays, Capitol Kitty is firmly nonpartisan. She ignores Democrats and Republicans equally.

But she is forgiven her aloofness, because she has been through a lot.

In 2001, a trucker slammed his big-rig into the side of the Capitol, right next to Capitol Kitty’s favorite patch of plants. Frantic e-mails buzzed through the statehouse, seeking news of her whereabouts. A few days later she surfaced, hungry but unscathed.

Not long after, Capitol Kitty came perilously close to death when a bite from a male cat caused a nasty infection in her leg. Surgery was required, and she now walks with a limp that seems to enhance her mysterious allure. That close encounter led to a $300 vet bill, but it was covered easily by donations.

In addition to generous supporters, Capitol Kitty has clout.

Not long ago, someone decided her three cathouses nestled in the shrubs were an eyesore and had them removed. Within hours, the cat’s fan club had put them back, and state officials well up the food chain ordered that the houses not be tampered with again.

Randy Hammer, a gardener who has tended the flower beds favored by the feline for eight years, called the episode astounding.

“That cat has some serious juice in this building,” he marveled.

Wright, the shoe-shiner, knows that to be true.

“When I’m reincarnated,” he said recently, standing beside a 15-pound bag of kitty food someone had donated, “I want to come back as that cat.”