From the first night we arrived in Israel, we noticed the cats. Not because we are Cat People (or even catty people). There was something about them, both different and familiar, much as Israelis appear to visiting Diaspora Jews.

For one thing, they all seemed to be "outside cats." Naturally, these are the only ones we saw. But the sheer numbers of them at liberty to loll around in spaces sacred to humans; to scrounge for eats (as we did) in the shuk; to appropriate monuments or motorcycles as beds; to move about as seekers of warmth or shade, taking their scratches as they came, so to speak, indicated they were a self-reliant breed of felines. Many lived in the rocks of the Tel Aviv sea wall -- the western extremity of Israel -- constantly splashed by the salt waves and hoping (one imagines) for fish. Some might say they seemed abandoned. But like the lanky, free-spirited cat of the Casbah in the lovely animated film by Johan Sfar, "," they might act like they owned the place -- but eventually find their way home to people who love them.   Photos by Laura Paull.

LEGACY CAT. The cats at this historic restaurant near the Sea of Galilee - the first we saw in Israel -- were too timid to come inside. No wonder: David Ben Gurion was among the early Zionists who worked there when it was part of the original Sejera settlement. No doubt there is a ghost or two left behind.

NATIVE CAT. At the Hula Nature Reserve, we learned that there had indeed been a wild cat native to the area. While these were hardly the lions of Judea, it's always possible that the native jungle cat had become a part of the urban cat mix. This is pure conjecture.

NONDENOMINATIONAL CAT. Amid the daily crush of the faithful from around the world, shade-seeking cats exist in their own dimension in Jerusalem's Old City, oblivious to  human delineations of  Jewish, Arab, Armenian and Christian Quarters.

MARKET CAT. One of the scrawnier, scruffier cats we saw, though it had apparently just gotten lucky.

PUNIM CAT. Did you ever see such a face?  Entirely comfortable among tourists and Orthodox Jews alike, he seemed wise and ancient, as if he'd had a past life as an oracle.

TIBERIUS CAT: DOES NOT WALK ON WATER. Strolling along the Kinneret at dawn, I heard a plaintive meow issuing from the rocks along the shore. Fearing that a cat was trapped in a cave by the tide (is there a tide in the Sea of Galilee?) I called out in universal kitty language. Soon this little ginger cat emerged from the rocks to stare at me.

CAT ON THE ROCKS. This denizen of the Tel Aviv sea wall was well-camouflaged, especially at sunset. Not that there seemed to be any natural predators to fear -- only competition. Countless cats live in and on this pier, probably fed by the countless humans strolling and picnicking along the beautiful blue sea.

TWO COOL CATS. Along the Promenade of David in Tel Aviv, I saw these two chill beings regarding one another amicably from a respectful distance.  Noting my interest in the feline, the man asked me, "You want him? Take him home, he's a good cat."  I wish!

LET SLEEPING CATS LIE.  A motorcycle seat is, after all, "off the street."  Smart.  This is why they survive in the hustle and bustle of Tel Aviv traffic.

SCAREDY CAT. The reason this cat looks so petrified (I think) is because he happened to be born into a Bedouin encampment in the desert. And the Bedouins like their dogs. A whole pack of rather noble breeds, including a Dalmatian, freely patrolled the camp known as Kfar Hanokdim, night and day. This cat was always ready to scat.

ARTSY CATS. Cats seem to be a favored subject of contemporary Israeli artists. This fencewalker and several humorous cat sculptures graced a high rent Jerusalem promenade.

SPOILED ROTTEN CATS. In a park in central Jerusalem, a Polish immigrant feeds his feline flock -- daily. "Even on Shabbat," he said. "Especially on Shabbat."

SYNAGOGUE DOG. Somewhere in my repository of Jewish cultural awareness, the sight of a dog at a synagogue set off inner warning lights of impropriety.  But not at this very clean and orderly kibbutz, where an old white lab was clearly welcome.

This post is dedicated to Ariel Goldstein, JCCSF Travel Manager and international cat lover.