Pussi-Cat, Pussi-Cat-Where

Have You Been?

By F.P.A

RECENTLY on Yame Island we cap tured a Siamese cat that had been running wild in the plantation since mid-1942—nearly six and a half years.

Seemingly, it is “Letchi,” one of Giwa’s prewar pets, and is surprisingly well preserved after its war-time experiences, which could be classed as varied. The island was bombed, machine-gunned, oc cupied by Japs and even shelled by US destroyers, so a few of Letchi’s nine lives may have been used up during the period!

It has, however, quickly settled again to “home” life, and now sleeps on chairs, sits by me at meal times and drinks its morn ing tea from a saucer! Giwa treats it as a returned prodigal.

The Siamese are pretty cats, great noc turnal wanderers, a little fierce in their ways, and with a habit of following the person they prefer—they are “one-man” cats (or “one-woman” cats as the case may be!). They have a creamy body, with chocolate coloured mask, ears, feet and tail, and with very blue unwinking eyes. They are supposed to be “Royal” cats in Siam, and, so legend states, one followed a Siamese Princess to the bath ing pool, where the Princess, before bath ing, took her finger-ring off, slinped it onto the cat’s tail and tied a knot therein!

Hence the broken joint in every Siamese cat’s tail!

There used to be quite a large family of them on Yame, and they were the special care of Giwa, wife of Sarawa the Boss Boy. She loved them all. separately and collectively, and they apoeared to re ciprocate, and half a dozen of them would follow her along the sandy, lily bordered path, to and from the house. They would chase each other round the lilies, scrambling up the palms and pounce on lizards or anything that moved, whilst young Eima shrieked in delight.

At feeding time Giwa would ladle their food onto a platter—fish, rice, coconut, etc., all cooked in “saucepan belong Pussies” —and would talk to them all the time as they sat in an expectant group— “ Yes. me Auntie true belong all you fella Pussies!—Me cook ’im kai-kai belong you —me makim plenty work! Now. you fella no say ‘Thank you’ along me, eh? What’s matter, eh?”

When the food was ready and Giwa stood back the cats would fall upon it as one cat, and Giwa would sigh, shake her head and remark: “Yes. fashion be long you fella, eh? You no can go easy— you mus’ hurry-up too much—you fella kai-kai all same puk-nuk! No got shame I think! Tch! Tch!”

When the plantation was abandoned the cats were left too. They followed Giwa to the beach as she was leaving. She gathered heaps of them up and said “Good-bye,” and they stood mewing on the sand as the canoe pulled out and Giwa mingled her salty tears with the salty ocean. Eima waved and called “Good-bye, altogether Pussies.” Sarawa said gruffly: “You cry along what name?

All ’e pussi, that’s all —’e no man!”

GIWA grieved for her pets all the time she was in the Bougainville hills, and during her sojourn in the British Solomons. She had other cats but they never came up to the standard of “Pussi belong Siam.” When Eima would recite: “Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat. where have you bqen?” Giwa would often wipe away a

tear and say: “Tch! Now me think again along all pussies belong me —now me sorry too much!”

Once, when in Bougainville bush, a let ter came from a native who had visited Yame and sent me the news of the day and he did it well. One paragraph read: “Re cats. I sorry to tell you, Sir, your cats are all gone to the forrest.

First time they wait at house about one moon, then a bomb she fall down and make big hole and big noise. Then, I tell you, an airplane she come and shoot house very much and all about too. Now, I tell you, I think all cats cross about this fashion.

They dont like this way so they go.” (I felt that the cats could hardly be held blameworthy for taking this atti tude).

Giwa got a coloured picture of two Siamese kittens from a magazine, pasted it on some cardboard, and would tell en-

quirers: “Me been havim this kind pussie along Yame—before!” It came back to Yame and is still stuck up in her house.

Now that Letchi has been miraculously restored to her “Auntie,” and as there are reports of others having been seen, all is joy—the more so because Letchi will undoubtedly have a family ere long. So, without much imagination, I can see thr landscape, in the near future, bestrewn with Siamese cats!

And now, when Letchi sleeps luxuriously in the sun and Eima strokes her and en quires: “Pussi cat, Pussi cat where haf you been?” Letchi merely opens one eye then closes it again, and purrs, but, other wise, maintains a discreet silence!

This is Eima and her mother, Giwa. taken in Bougainville in 1945. Eima is already known to “PIM” readers as FPA’s nursery-rhyme girl. He also told us something of their adventures when they were escaping from the Japs in 1942.