My Thai Cat
Pratoomratha Zeng

Sii Sward was our Thai or Siamese cat in my hometown, Muang, a northern village in Thailand. She was a gift to me from my father when I was five years old. She had piercing blue eyes and delicate brown fur which she constantly cleaned with her tongue. I was completely devoted to her. She was also very popular with my entire family, an later was to be well – known in the whole district.

During the drought in 1925, our Sii Sward was a heroine; she had the great honor of being elected the Rain Queen.

We had been without rain for three months that summer. It was hot and dry. Our public well was reduced to mud; the river was at its lowest ebb.

Then someone suggested that we perform the old Brahmo – Buddhist rain ceremony called the Nang Maaw, the queen of the cats. This ceremony had been performed by the peasants since immemorial.

That day my father approached me and my cat seriously. He patted Sii Sward’s head gently and said to me, “Ai Noo (my little mouse), the villagers have asked me to help in the ceremony for the rain. I promised them to use our cat- your Sii Sward.”

I was stunned. How could they use my cat to get the rain? I thought of those chickens that the Chinese killed and boiled during the Annual Trut – Chine, the Chinese ritual days for sacrificing to and honouring the memory of their ancestors. To have my cat killed and boiled like a chicken? Oh, no.

I almost shout to protest, “Oh, no Father, I cannot let anyone kill my Sii Sward rain or no rain. I don’t care.”

In the Thai family, the father is the sole absolute authority of the house; to deny his wish is sinful and inexcusable. My father however, was very understanding man. He looked at me coldly and said calmly: “Son, no one is going to kill Sii Sward. Instead of doing that, an because our cat is the most beautiful and cleanest of all the cats in the village, she was elected by the people to be the Rain Queen of our district. This is a great honor to her and to our family.”

I was reluctant to consent until Father said, “ We can take Sii Sward back home as soon as the ceremony is over.”

Two artists built up a big bamboo cage and the people fastened flowers and leaves to it and dressed it up until it looked like a miniature castle.

At noontime, my cat Sii Sward had her usual lunch of dry mudfish and rice, then my father gave me the great honor of carrying her to the temple ground. Some old ladies brushed and sprayed sweet native perfume upon her proud head. Sii Sward protested vehemently; she struggled to get away, and I had to put her head into the adorned cage.

In spite of the heat and the sun that day, people packed into the monastery to se Sii Sward, the Rain Queen, and to pray for the rain.

In the mid – afternoon the sun was so hot that the villagers took refuge under the shade of the big mango and Po trees on the temple ground. A group of people began to chant the Nang Maaw song, softly at first, then louder an louder until everyone seemed to shout. Long native drums, taphone, began to beat in chorus.

It was a most impressive ceremony which made me feel warm and confident of the Queen’s powers.

Sii Sward slept all the way; she was not impressed by the demonstration. Before we entered the open marketplace there was so much noise; someone fired many big firecrackers. A few women who were traders in powder and perfumes approached the cage and poured cups of sweet – smelling perfume and flowers onto the poor Rain Queen. At this moment, the noise of the frantic shouting, of chanting, of firecrackers, and that perfumed water proved to be too much for the poor Sii Sward. More water and perfume water proved to be too much for the poor Sii Sward. More water and perfume were poured and splashed into the cage. Sii Swward stood up, her blue eyes at the culprits. Her brown and smooth hair was soaking wet. She began to cry and tried to find a way to escape in vain.

Seeing the whole condition going from bad to worse, I was almost crying, asking Father to rescue the poor cat. Howeer, Father said everything would be all right. After a while, everyone seemed to be satisfied giving the Rain Queen perfumes; they stopped the noise completely as if to listen to the tormented noise of the Rain Queen. At that moment Sii Sward stopped crying, too. She was soaking wet and trembling with fear.

People chanted softly as they led the procession back to the monastery, even the drummers and the two men, who ten minutes ago were chanting frantically, now calmed down.

When we reached the Vihara, the men placed the cage in front o the temple, and then all of them wento the Vihara to pray for the rain goddess again. At this moment, I saw the opportunity to help my poor Sii Sward. Having seen the last person enter the temple, I took Sii Sward out of the cage and ran home with her.

It must have been about three o’clock in the morning when a sound like a train running and a big hurricane was heard. Later there was a strong sound of thunder over the mountains, and a few minutes later, a shower, a real tropical shower, came down. Everyone on the village got up from his or her bed. We were happy. The farmers started at once to their farms. It rained for three days, and three nights, and it seemed as if the showers would never stop until the water in the sky would be gone. Our crops were saved.

But Sii Sward ignore the rain. She slept happily the whole three days. Farmers and their families dropped in to see her afterward. They patted her delicate fur and left dry fish and meat for her, her favourite food. That year, the farmers thought that Sii Sward was a heroine.