 He was on most accounts an unusual fellow, with a big head and a crab-like  walk (Rochelle 1991, 97). Peter Geach (1971, 10) reports that, “To the end of his days he walked down corridors with a curious shuffle, back to the wall, as if expecting a sudden kick from behind.” Unlike F.H. Bradley, whose feline-directed nocturnal activities were not so benign, McTaggart saluted cats whenever he met  them (Dickinson 1931, 68; Rochelle 1991, 97).  (F.H. Bradley preferred to shoot cats; see the entry on   F. H. Bradley.) His preferred method of transportation was a tricycle, a fact which led a Cambridge paper to publish the following poem about him: