Liz Foster ’22
One of the most honorable titles I carry is that of a former North Campus resident. I saw things. I had a second floor residence (shout outs to my former room NC215, my former roommate Olivia Zeiner-Morish ’22, and whoever currently occupies the chamber) with a stunning view of the North parking lot. Each morning, afternoon and evening, I would see cars drive in and out of their respective assigned-but-not-really parking spots. Sometimes, the residents of Hartford would stroll through the lot carrying various items and pushing their respective shopping carts. Residents of Allen Place would frequently pass through the lot and more often than not I would know when to leave my room based upon the gaggles of giggling girls crossing through on their migration to Vernon Street. However, the most exciting view I had was that of the North Campus cats. To this day, I still haven’t fully deduced how many there were, but my current estimate is three regular residents: a calico, a ginger, and a tortoiseshell.
A mere few days ago, I saw the tortoiseshell cat prancing in the grassy space between North and Vernon Social as I made my daily stroll from High Rise to the Bistro in search of a caprese pesto. As she scampered across the grass, I immediately launched after it, calling out “North Kitty!” and making weird kissing noises at it. The cat flat out ignored me. This prompted me to consider; who really are these cats? Upon further analysis, I have concluded that the North cats are actually witches put on campus to govern over the student body, acting with more power than the Board of Trustees, the SGA, and the SGA’s soon-arriving tank combined.
However, with their shifty nature, I’ve come to believe these cats work with malicious intent. With their three separate colors, the cats’ appearance is not unlike the iconic witch trios of pop culture such as the high school witch trio of The Craft, the Sanderson sisters from Hocus Pocus, or even the eco-goth rock group The Hex Girls from Scooby-Doo. Every witch trio features three distinct characters with three distinct color patterns, just like the cats’ coloring of calico, giner, and tortoiseshell.
Even more suspicious is that I never once saw a black cat in the North parking lot. Why? Because these bad boys are one step ahead of us. A black cat is traditionally associated with witches, so instead of falling into stereotype, these cats are actually avoiding what would typically implicate their status as sorceresses.
Furthermore, what would possess three animals with a natural desire to survive to live in the archaic and beautiful trenches of Trinity’s North Campus? Because they’re trapped here. It’s well known that up to eleven local accused witches were hung at the Gallows Hill, where the elusive St. Anthony Hall currently sits on Trinity’s campus. Logically speaking, the spirit of these witches has inhabited the bodies of these cats, manifesting as something beyond the traditional idea of a witch’s “familiar.”
By patrolling the north side of campus, these witches are reclaiming the territory they once lost. As cats, they assume an inconspicuous identity, now able to control the land that betrayed them so deeply. These three felines may be friend or foe, but undoubtedly exist to rule over the northern hemisphere of Trinity College to maintain an environment that ultimately benefits their existence and rulership of the kingdom of witches.