Breed Profiles

I did not believe the swimming-cat story until I watched a Turkish Van jump into a garden pond and paddle, entirely unbothered, after a leaf. Most cats treat water like an enemy. The Van treats it like a swimming pool he's been denied. That single odd trait is the reason the breed has a reputation, and it's also the reason I fell for a cat I was only supposed to be catsitting.

The Turkish Van comes from the Lake Van region of eastern Turkey, and the story goes that the cats there learned to swim because the summers are fierce and the water is the only cool place. Whether that's true or not, the instinct is real in a way I've never seen in another breed. Not every Van swims, but a great many of them will, and almost all of them play with running water the way other cats play with string.

They're a striking-looking animal. Mostly white, with colour only on the head and the tail — the "Van pattern" — and those famous almond eyes that can be amber, blue, or one of each. The body is solid, not dainty. This is a big-boned cat with a broad chest and a tail like a fox's brush. When a Van launches off a bookshelf you feel the weight of him.

Living with a water thief

The first lesson is that no glass is safe. A Van will drink from your cup, knock the tap on if he can reach it, and sit in the sink with the pride of a landlord inspecting the property. Mine learned to hook the bathroom tap with a paw and got soaked on purpose. We stopped leaving water glasses out and bought a heavy ceramic bowl he couldn't tip.

Personality is confident to the point of rude. A Van is not a lap cat in the typical sense; he's a cat who wants to be where the action is, on your shoulder, on the desk, in the middle of whatever you're doing. He's bright and he's busy and he gets bored fast. A Van with nothing to do will invent trouble, usually involving a cupboard you thought was closed.

They're good with people but they are not pushovers. Strangers are inspected, not welcomed. Children who respect the cat do fine; children who grab get a studied look and a retreat to high ground. They get on with dogs who understand cat rules, and they will absolutely enforce those rules if tested.

Grooming is easy, which is a relief after some of the long-haired breeds. The coat is single, not dense underwool, so it doesn't mat the way a Persian's does. A weekly brush in summer, a bit more in the shed, and he's tidy. The big seasonal moult is real, though — for a few weeks the white fur is everywhere and you learn to check your coffee before you sip.

Health is mostly good. The breed is old and robust, though the odd eye condition and the usual white-cat deafness risk in blue-eyed lines are worth asking a breeder about. The one thing I'd flag is the energy. This is not a flat cat. He needs climbing space, puzzle feeders, a window with a view, and preferably a safe water source he's allowed to use. A Van in a small flat with no outlets goes stir-crazy.

One thing I didn't expect was the appetite for climbing. A Van isn't a lap cat, but he is an up cat, and he claimed the top of the bookcase within a week. I learned to leave the breakables low and the perches high, because he would have the height one way or another. He also turned out to be a talker, not a loud one, but a cat who carries on a running commentary in a soft chirp, especially near water. Visitors found it charming; the dog found it suspicious. If you want a silent, decorative pet, this isn't him. If you want a cat with a voice, a strong body, and a fondness for the bath that you'll never quite get over, the Van is the most surprising animal I've looked after, and the one I'd take back in a heartbeat, pond and all.

Feeding a Van is unremarkable except for the water habit. He'd hook the tap, soak the sink, and then act surprised by the puddle, so I learned to keep a heavy bowl he couldn't tip and to shut the bathroom door unless I was watching. The appetite is healthy and the coat stays good on plain food, but the drinking circus is a Van trademark you sign up for whether you like it or not.

I gave the catsit-back cat to his owner with real reluctance. He'd turned the house upside down and taught me that some cats, against all feline law, would rather swim than sulk. If you want a cat who sits still and looks pretty, the Van will disappoint you. If you want a cat with opinions, a strong stroke, and a habit of climbing into the bath, there is nobody better.