Frodo and How Cats Came to the Shire

It was mid-November of Shire-year 1421, The Year of Great Plenty, following the Fellowship of the Ring’s return from their perilous adventure in the east. Everything had bloomed abundantly that year because of Samwise Gamgee’s prodigious use of the box of the soil of Lorien. Not only the fields had produced bounteously but also many beautiful, golden-haired hobbit children had been born. Everyone had been joyful and no one had been ill... but for one.

The one who least deserved any more suffering since it was he who had carried the heaviest burden and bore the most indelible scars on body, heart and mind. Frodo had been ill on October 6, the anniversary of the attack upon him by the Nazgul on Weathertop.

This had greatly distressed his friends and one of them decided to do something about it. There was no curing of Frodo’s ills but it might be possible to brighten his days and bring warmth to the coming winter.

Gandalf rapped his staff on the door of Bag End and momentarily Sam opened the door.

“Mr. Gandalf! Oh, Mr. Frodo will be glad to see you.” Then Sam noticed the basket in the in wizard’s hand and that the small quilt that covered it appeared to be moving. “Now what have you got there, Mr. Gandalf?”

“Now, Samwise it’s a surprise for Frodo. Where is he?”

“He’s closeted up in the study writing, as he is usually most days. He don’t get out and about enough, Mr. Gandalf... except at nights when I don’t believe he sleeps much.. He wanders round who knows where till dawn then disappears back into the study. I don’t like it, Mr. Gandlaf, I don’t.”

“Nor do I, Sam. That’s what this present is all about. I hope it will cheer Frodo up a bit.”

“Oh, where is my head! Come on in, Mr. Gandalf.”

Sam opened the door wide and Gandalf entered the familiar hobbit-hole.

“I’ll fetch Mr. Frodo.” Sam said.

“No, no.. I know the way, Sam. I should like to surprise him.”

Gandalf wound his way through the passages to the study and after a brief knock went inside.

Frodo was seated at Bilbo’s old desk at work on his additions to Bilbo’s book. He turned around and smiled brightly.

“Gandalf! I wasn’t expecting you!” He cried and went and embraced the dear old man.

“You know me, Frodo, I arrive whenever I mean to. And I’ve brought you something. Or rather two somethings. And they come from Tom Bombadil and Goldberry, none-the-less!”

“Really! You’ve seen them?”

“Indeed. I’ve just come from visiting with them.”

“How are they?”

“Well......always well..... of course.”

“Of course.”

“But they are worried about you, as are all your friends.”

“But I’m fine, Gandalf, fine.” Frodo asserted but the shadow that threatened to cloud his brilliant blue eyes belied his words.

“As you say, Frodo, as you say. Nevertheless Tom and Goldberry and I thought these merry little creatures would bring you some cheer.”

Gandalf put the wiggling basket on the table in the middle of the room.

“Whatever are they?” Frodo asked.

“Lift the cover and see for yourself.”

Frodo with much curiosity gently removed the quilt and was greeted by four wide eyes. Two were as golden as the morning sun on the yellow daisies that bloomed by the front door. The other two were as nearly as bright a blue as Frodo’s own. The eyes belonged to two small, furry creatures- the first striped in brown, black and grey.the second a fluffy light saffron-yellow. The four eyes fixed themselves on Frodo with instant adoration as both animals sat down sedately and studied him intently, claiming him as their master.

“Gandalf.. They.. they are cats!”

“Yes.. Indeed they are!”

“But there are few if any cats in all of the Shire. Hobbits tend to mistrust them if they don’t go so far as to fear and despise them.”

“Well, much their loss then. There is nothing to fear from the creatures. Certainly not THESE creatures who were bred and born at Tom’s and are the descendents of generations of his own cats. There are no finer, kinder animals to be found in all Middle Earth and no better mousers either! I guarantee you that no mouse or rat will dare cross Bag End’s threshold with these two ‘mighty’ hunters in residence.”

“Well, they don’t dare cross Sam either!”

“No.. No.. Of course not. But I really brought them to you to be your companions.”

“I have more than enough of those, Gandalf!”

“But none like these two shall prove to be! Come now and get to know them. I see they already have sized you up and more than approve of you.”

Frodo saw the looks of love in the feline’s eyes and reached into the basket. At once both young cats, barely more than kittens really, climbed softly into his arms, carefully keeping their claws well tucked in so that Frodo would suffer nary a scratch. Instantly they began purring rapturously as they gently kneaded his chest.

Frodo smiled with delight and looked up at Gandalf.

“They’re wonderful, Gandalf, wonderful!”

Frodo carried the kittens out to meet Sam and Rosie who were pottering about in the kitchen preparing some light refreshments, Hobbit style, for Frodo and Gandalf.

“Sam, Rosie, look what Gandalf has given me!” He announced merrily.

The Gamgees looked up at the bundles of fur staring pleasantly at them from Frodo’s arms.

Sam’s eyes went very wide and he took several steps backwards.

“Mr. Frodo... They’re cats!!!!” Sam cried with alarm.

“Yes, Sam. What are you afraid of?”

“Well, Mr. Frodo... I’m not afraid.. really....” He continued to edge backwards. “It’s just that.... Well, cats are KNOWN to be evil. Don’t you know the old tales?”

Frodo looked up at Gandalf with that .. we must humor Sam again, smile.

“Samwise.” Gandalf began patiently,” there have been evil cats as there have been corrupted creatures of all sorts. even hobbits. But that is no reason to condemn all of a race to disgrace. These cats are of Tom Bombadil’s breed and are as pure of spirit as any creature can be. And they are wise and affectionate and will make excellent companions for Frodo. They also are great mousers”

“Ahh.. well. If you say so, Mr. Gandalf.” But Sam did not look convinced.

“Sam, Sam, m’dear,”Rose said in her lilting musical voice, “look at them! May I, Frodo?” She asked. She had never felt the need to add the Mr. before Frodo’s name as she had never been accustomed to it as had been Sam.

“Of, course.” Frodo told her and she took the fluffy saffron colored kitten in her arms and brought it over to Sam. The kitten was content with her and accepted her handling but gazed longingly back at Frodo.

“Now look, Sam.” she said, “what a sweet little creature it is.”

“Yes.. I see it, Rose.” But Sam was still not at ease.

“Now you take it.” Rose told him.

“No... I can see it fine, as it is.”

“Sam......... really, what a baby you can be. Now take it, and don’t be silly.” And with that Rose put the kitten in Sam’s hands and Sam, with a grimace on his normally cheery face, held it out at arm's length.

The kitten was not at all comfortable and squirmed a little though it never thought to scratch Sam.

Frodo, with a shake of his head, came over to his friend.

“Sam, you would wiggle if anyone held you like that. Now hold it to you as Rose did. And you,” Frodo said to the cat, which instantly settled down and looked at him attentively, “This is Sam my dearest friend who saved my life. You can trust him.”

The cat almost seemed to nod and began to purr once again while Sam clumsily tried to cuddle it.

“I hope, you can hold our babe better than that once it arrives.” Rose chided her husband.

Sam blushed to the ears as he always did at mention of their expected child. But then he made a better attempt and the cat settled down peacefully. And momentarily a look of calm came over Sam’s face.

“Well, Mr. Frodo, I expect they’ll be all right.”

Frodo who still held the striped cat reached out and patted the other and it’s purring seemed to grow to a roar in the quiet room.

“Of course they’re all right, Sam.”

“And they do like you, don’t they.” Sam added, more reassured as anything that liked Frodo met with his approval.

The cat Sam held seemed to want to return to Frodo but he whispered to it to stay with Sam awhile and it acquiesced.

“What will you name them, Frodo?” Rose asked.

“I’ve hardly had time to think. And actually we don’t yet know what they are.. I mean....”

Gandalf who had been standing chuckling in the corner offered the required information.

“This fellow here,” he said indicating the kitten Frodo held, “is a young male and that one is a female.”

“Ah. “Frodo said. “That helps.”

Then he gave the matter a few moments thought.

“Well,” he said at last, “he shall be Tom and she shall be Goldberry as I feel that is most fitting considering that they are their gifts.”

“It’s a good choice, Frodo.” Rose said. “Isn’t it, Sam?”

“Aye... it is. She does have the look of that lovely lady.” And it was plain that the little purring ball of fluff now entranced Sam.

So it was that the cats were fully welcomed into Bag End.

Their devotion to Frodo touched Sam’s heart and Sam often rewarded their loyalty with many tasty tidbits from the larder. Though they would only take polite nibbles of the offerings to please him while all the time they grew bigger and plumper. Sam wondered at this for a time till he realized that he had not needed to remove any mice from the premises since the cats’ arrival. Yet no one ever noticed when the cats caught the mice since they seemed always to be with Frodo and followed him everywhere he went, even on his night-time rambles. Though these grew less frequent as winter set in and Frodo felt more content to remain at home.

Then in the evenings they sat with Frodo in the study ‘helping’ him with his writing by perching one upon each side of the desk carefully watching all that Frodo did. If one of his quills ran out of ink Goldberry seemed to know and he soon found the ink well nearer at hand. And Tom always seemed to be ‘playing’ with a fresh quill’s feathers right by Frodo’s hand when his first quill’s nib became too dull for writing.

When Frodo was done with his work he would sit by the hearth in the main room and read with Goldberry warm and cozily purring away on his lap and Tom perched upon the cushioned chair-back with front paws resting softly and weightlessly on top of Frodo’s head.

By the turn of the year Goldberry was noticeably plumper. While this puzzled Frodo and Sam, Rose soon knew that she and the young cat were in the same condition. And the two ‘ladies’ became very companionable whenever Goldberry was not occupied with watching over Frodo, who, once he knew of Goldberry’s condition would not permit her to accompany him on his walks through the snowy Shire only allowing Tom to join him. So the two Bag End mothers-to-be spent cozy hours commiserating in the kitchen.

Early in February Goldberry proudly and seemingly effortlessly produced an astounding litter of twelve kittens. A great rarity in the feline world. They were of a great variety of of colors and patterns and furriness.

All were healthy and bright-eyed. Within a matter of weeks they were everywhere to be found getting into any and every kind of playful kitten mischief.

Once when Frodo returned from a trip to Buckland he found a very flustered looking Mr. and Mrs. Gamgee scooping climbing kittens from the tops of bookcases and kitchen shelves, out of the wood bin, from the pottery, and one particularly adventurous one whom they had already named Pippin, from the highest beam of the ceiling. Tom and Goldberry looking on all the while with parental pride.

Once Frodo could stop laughing he had a serious word with the cat-parents that seem to hang their heads at his words. Then with a little whistle Frodo caught each and every kitten’s attention and they all scampered to his side and followed him down the hallway with Frodo giving the Gamgees a smug little smile as he went.

“Rosie, I need some ale!” Sam exclaimed as he sat down sighing with exhaustion.

From that time on the kittens, while still frolicsome as kittens should be, were much better behaved and would look at Rose and Sam with perfectly innocent little wide eyes as if they had never caused a moment’s trouble.

On March 13, two years to the day from the time that Shelob had poisoned him, Frodo fell ill again and barely felt strong enough to get out of bed. He did not wish to worry Sam and Rose who were expecting their child at almost any time.

He struggled feebly to the kitchen where he made himself stand up straight and attempted to look cheerful.

“I... shall be very busy.... writing today.” He told the Gamgees. “Don’t worry about meals and such. I shall fend quite well for myself.” And he tried to give them a reassuring smile. He then returned to his study and shut the door behind him.

Sam was not fooled. He knew Frodo better than anyone and could tell something was very wrong. He made to follow after him but Rose rested a hand on his shoulder

“Sam let him be.”

“But he’s ill and thinks he can fool his Sam!” Sam was nearly in tears.

‘I know, Sam, dear. But can’t you see he doesn’t want to trouble us.

Frodo is stronger than anyone thinks. He will recover. Leave him his pride.”

“I .... suppose you’re right, Rose.”

But Sam was miserable and worried and fretted all that day and night.

By early afternoon Frodo knew he could no longer keep up the pretence of writing and feverish and almost too dizzy to walk he snuck back to his bedroom, shut the door, and falling on the bed was instantly lost in a world of dark and terrible dreams. He never noticed the fourteen felines who trailed after him almost as concerned as Sam and Rose.

The sun was sending long red rays in through his window as it sunk below the horizon and night was falling when Frodo again could open is eyes. He found that someone had placed the coverlet over him and tucked him in, lit the fire and some candles and left warm milk , broth and fresh bread and butter for him on a table nearby.

He also saw scattered all over the coverlet the twelve kittens and Tom and Goldberry watching him more closely than any nurse or healer from the house of Elrond ever had. Goldberry who was quite near his face gently reached out with a paw and touched his nose then nuzzled him and proceeded to give his cheek a thorough ‘bath’ with her rough tongue as if he were one of her kittens. Tom approached and ‘supervised’ attentively. Then snuggled down close to Frodo’s side. Then each kitten examined him in their own individual ways and when satisfied that he was on the mend they all settled down, mostly on top of him, and fell purringly to sleep. All except little yellow Pippin who insisted on playing for at least a half an hour with the fingers on Frodo’s good hand.

Frodo smiled and felt better than he had all day and by the morning felt quite himself again much to the Gamgee’s and the cats’ relief.

When baby Elanor was born to Rose and Sam a few weeks later Frodo had a chance to play nurse for awhile as Sam was a nervous but beaming wreck. The cats all seemed to know something very special had taken place and not one of them.. not even Pippin.. misbehaved.

By April two things were clear. Goldberry was expecting again and it would be necessary to find homes for the kittens that were all very self-sufficient by this time. This was not very difficult as all visitors to Bag End became enchanted with the little creatures and soon twelve hobbit holes around the Shire had a ‘Baggins-cat’. Little Pippin being delivered personally by Frodo to Big Pippin who very much deserved the little namesake. Merry of course claimed one who he decided resembled himself most closely. And thus both Buckland and Tuckborough became virtually mouse free.

On a bright, blue June day Goldberry effortlessly produced 14 kittens! All just as wondrously adorable as the first ‘batch’. This was quite an event round the Shire and each kitten was instantly claimed by Boffins, Bolgers, Bracegirdles, Proudfeet, assorted Took and Brandybuck relations and many disappointed others who had to be turned away.

As the kittens grew and were allowed by Frodo to play outdoors they became the centers of attention for most of the Hobbiton children who spent the long summer days romping about the gardens of Bag End with the little cats. This of course caused Sam some consternation and he had frequently to shoo children from the vegetable patch or out of the tall hollyhocks.

Once those fourteen kittens had been taken to their new homes Golderry produced another litter of 12. Meanwhile, news came in that the females from the first litter had begun imitating their Mother and had produced their own kittens with litters just as well populated.

The legends of the Baggins-cats had begun. Later these cats became known as Shire-cats and could be found everywhere from Bree to the far South Farthing and rumor had it that the King in Gondor and his Lady had a number of the creatures about Minas Tirith; and also that were in Ithilian with Faramir and Eowyn due to their being ‘gifts’ from the Tooks and Brandybucks.

When Frodo was ill again on October 6 he was again tended by the current fourteen felines.

It was now, Frodo knew, time for him to journey to the Grey Havens and over the sea.

Among the parting presents to the Gamgees were two of the last litter’s kittens that most strongly resembled their parents and were given the same names. After Frodo had a word with the latest Tom and Goldberry the two cats never left little Elanor’s side nor stopped their protection of any of the many other Gamgee children who came along later.

When at last he boarded the ship Frodo was followed by the original Tom and Goldberry who would not under any circumstances be separated from him. Nor would he ever have left them behind.

As the ship sailed away they nuzzled up against his ankles and then peered through small openings in the railings toward the distant shore where Sam, Merry and Pippin stood weeping.

Frodo wept too for he would never see his dear friends again. Or perhaps only one at some far distant time.

Tom and Goldberry stood on their tiptoes and reached their paws up to him begging to be picked up. Frodo reached down and scooped them up and held them close and as they licked the tears from his cheeks he turned from the now vanished shoreline of Middle earth and went to join Bilbo and Gandalf below.