Open Writing

Bangkok 1969

My friend Miriam had decided that my three daughters needed a pet. 'I know a lady who has kittens for sale,' she said. 'We'll visit her today and find one.'

Melanie, the cat lady, lived in a sprawling bungalow in a laneway off Ploenchit Highway. The front entrance was hidden behind bouganvillea vines in all colours.

Melanie bred and sold Siamese, Burmese and Khorat cats. The Khorat cat had the aristocratic looks and intelligence of a Siamese, but not the jealous nature.

'I can't afford a purebred cat,' I protested. But Miriam waved my protests aside. 'She'll have a kitten for you,' she said.

We opened the gate and walked through the garden to the front entrance, where we were greeted by Melanie elegantly attired in traditional Thai sarong and blouse.

The front room of the house was full of cages containing cats of all breeds and sizes, all expressing their annoyance at being cooped up.

'I keep them in their cages when I have visitors,' Melanie explained. 'At other times they have free run of the house.'

I explained our predicament and emphasised the smallness of our apartment. 'I have a kitten that would be perfect for you,' she said. 'She's the result of a naughtiness by one of my prize Khorat cats. You wouldn't be able to show her in cat shows or breed from her, but she'd make an excellent pet.'

It appeared that the kitten's mother had been in her cage ready for showing at an important cat show in Bangkok.

'We were staying at a hotel, and because the evening was so warm I had let her out of the cage and had opened the window for some fresh air. While I was away from the room, some naughty tom cat from outside managed to get through the window and my prize cat had a litter and is now ruined for breeding or showing for some time.

'Now I'll bring in the kittens from the litter, three males and a female. Please sit quite still in your chair. Whichever kitten jumps into your lap, you may buy.'

I knew Smokey was the kitten for us as soon as she walked into the room. She had a devil-may-care attitude about her walk as she approached me, rubbed against my legs and then jumped into my lap and began to purr loudly.

'Ah,' said Melanie, 'she approves of you, so you may buy her.'

I nodded my agreement, and then three other kittens jumped into my lap.

'They all love you,' said Melanie. 'You will have to take them all home with you!'

I explained we only had room for one small kitten and Smokey, the little girl, would be fine. She was so pretty, with the beautiful blue-grey markings of her mother, big blue eyes, and the cheeky little face of a tabby cat.

At home in the apartment she inspected everything from the kitchen to the bedrooms, pronounced her new living quarters to be satisfactory, drank a saucer of milk and some mashed up cereal, curled up on the most comfortable lounge chair and went to sleep.

When the girls arrived home from school Smokey was smothered with affection. Never was a cat so pampered, stroked and brushed. Because she was part purebred Khorat she loved to climb up the drapes, play skydiver from the curtain pelmets and leap up on top of cupboards.

She very quickly learned how to manipulate the buzzer we used to summon Boon from the servant quarters, and delighted touching it with her paws to hear the noise it made.

I didn't realise how clever she was until one morning at 3 am a half-dressed Boon rang the front door bell. We looked at each other, perplexed. Then we both noticed Smokey hiding under the couch. Boon burst out laughing.

'Damn cat!' she said, and went off to her room to snatch another few hours sleep.

When Boon was working in the kitchen, Smokey loved to tug at the hem of her sarong until she managed to bring it down around her ankles, eliciting a stream of Vietnamese curses.

We had managed to obtain a weekend rental of a beach house at Pattaya, and of course Smokey came along too—but more of those adventures in my next story.

© Peggy Mitchell

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Peggy writes for Bonzer! magazine. Please visit www.bonzer.org.au