Pussy Galore: Cat show judge has his claws out

"I see myself as a kind of salesperson for pedigreed cats. I probably would've done very well selling cars," laughs Walter Hutzler.

Regardless, the gay 71-year-old New Yorker has done quite well for himself: After struggling as an opera singer ("I always wanted to do the romantic roles, and all I got were comic characters because I was thin and lean and kind of effeminate") and retiring as a hair colorist, he continues to judge cat shows in his spare time. Hutzler spoke with Just Out about his "pet project" in anticipation of a Portland appearance.

On a judge's role

He's the referee. He decides which is right, which is wrong, which is good, which is perfect. It involves knowing the standards and knowing the breeds and having a clear mental picture of what you want the cats to look like.

I think of this as an athletic event because these cats have to be in prime physical shape: They have to be beautifully proportioned, they have to be well-balanced, they have to be muscular. All of those things combine with your own subjectivity.

It needs quite a bit of tact, as well. A lot of people who breed cats — they have an umbilical cord attached to these cats, and their blood and their sweat and their tears sometimes get diminished by rejection.

On the psychology behind pets

Humans get involved with animals because they want to replicate themselves in their animals. When I went to my first cat show in 1959, my friends were saying: "You like this kind of stuff? It's a bunch of old ladies in tennis sneakers!" That probably was so! Because women think they're dominated, and therefore some of the traits that we have in cats — the kind of sweet, expressive, doll-like innocence that some of the cats have — that's a very feminine kind of psychological thing that people want with their animals. It's why people like those cute little dogs and why we like cute little cats.

On the truth about cats and dogs

There's not much difference between a lion and a tiger and a domestic cat, except for small little genes. I would tell my friends: "When you lie down with a dog, it's just like a personality. When I lie down with a cat, it's a lion and a tiger I'm lying down with, and it's still there." I think that's the beauty of it.

The big difference between us and dog shows is that cat shows are a lot fussier, prissier, fancier. It's like a beauty contest. The cats are housed in dollhouses. I call it American froufrou. They have little furniture in there. People go nuts about those things!

The only thing that we don't do is we're not that enamored with obedience. So cats are fairly free to do whatever they want to do, and we don't expect them to heel or to stand perfectly still.

On his personal preferences

I tend to like very flashy cats, cats that have beautiful color. I think that's one of the things that mesmerize people and myself.

I actually live with two Maine Coon cats because I'm in that element that likes Where the Wild Things Are. I like a cat that looks like a cat. I'm looking for a great predator.

I don't think I have a favorite breed, but I think I have a "desert island cat." Maine Coons are completely lovable, but they're like Fred Flintstone: They're kind of big and Jurassic Park and "duh." A Burmese cat has a great sense of humor, and I think if I was on a desert island, I would like a cat that would make me laugh at least.

On his first feline memory

I always had cats at home. I grew up at a boarding school. These were all cats that lived outdoors on the grounds of the school. I befriended them and used to come out with some food that I had saved from meals and feed them.

I was a very lonesome and withdrawn youngster because we came over from Europe during World War II, and I was separated from my parents. I'm a child of the Holocaust. I was born in a small town near Nuremberg, Germany. My father was in a camp, and my mother had a tough time with two young children. We went off to England after that and came to America; we didn't speak English. The first time we tried to cross, our ship was torpedoed.

I had this kind of relationship with cats right in the beginning. It sort of eased the pain of withdrawal of being away from my family. I think that had a lot to do with my appreciation of cats.

I don't even call them pets; I call cats "companions." I identify with them. They're the survivors.

Originally published in Just Out, Feb. 6, 2009