Living with the Lama (1964)

CHAPTER TEN

“Heigh Ho!” sang Miss Ku, “So off again we go. We travel round the world so large, like a Tomcat on a barge. We motor to this Windsor City, to move again would be.” “Ah! Be quiet, Ku,” said the Guv, “A fellow can’t think with you trying to sing. Resign yourself to it, you are no more musical than I am.” I smiled to myself. It was morning, and Miss Ku was greeting a long-past dawn with song. As the Guv spoke to her she wandered off, muttering, “You don't appreciate Art, that's what you don't!”

I stretched lazily, soon we would have breakfast. Already Ma was bustling about in the kitchen. The clatter of dishes came to my ears, then, “Ku! Feef! Come and have your breakfast!” “Coming, Ma,” I replied as I felt for the edge of the bed and jumped off on to the floor. It was always an adventure, that getting off the bed in the morning. One's senses and perceptions are not so acute when one is barely awake, and I always had a mild fear that I might jump in the Guv's shoes or something. It was a very mild fear, though, because exceptional care was taken that I should come to no harm. “Feef's coming!” called the Guv to Ma. “Come and get your breakfast, Feef,” said Ma, “you are doping about like an old Granny this morning!” I smiled up at her and sat down to breakfast. “No, a bit more to the right—that's it!” said Miss Ku.

“What shall we take next?” asked the Guv, “I am going to get the mail.” Ma suggested which things were the most fragile, and the Guv and Buttercup carried them to the car. We had a mail box in Windsor, because we found that when people had our address they just called unexpectedly, and that made complications as the Guv would never see anyone who just called and demanded admittance. Miss Ku told me that when The Family lived in Ireland—before I appeared on the scene—a woman arrived from Germany and DEMANDED instant admittance as she “wanted to sit at the feet of the Lama.” Told that she could not enter, she had actually camped on the doorstep until ordered to move by Mr. Loftus, looking very fierce and martial in his smart uniform.

Moving was a matter which did not concern Miss Ku and me. Soon the men from the removal firm had loaded our things and driven off. Miss Ku wandered around the house saying goodbye to the rooms. This was a parting of which we were glad, for this house had never felt friendly. Eventually Miss Ku and I were carried, well wrapped, to the warm car. The Guv locked the house doors and we drove off. The road was bad, very bad, like so many Canadian roads. Miss Ku told me that there was a sign reading, “Broken road, drive at your own risk!” We drove on and came to a crossing. Miss Ku called out, “That is where our food came from, Feef, a place called ‘Stop n'shop.’ Now we are on the main Windsor road.” The going was smoother here. My nose wrinkled at a sudden familiar odor, an odor which reminded me of Mister the Irish Vet and his Irish Cat Hospital. Miss Ku laughed, “Don't be such a sissy, Feef, this is just a human hospital where they take people who are just about finished.” We drove on a little and she said, “And here is where motor cars are made, we are passing the Ford factory. I'll tell you all, Feef, I'll give you the gen.”

“Miss Ku!” I called, “What a strange smell, in some vague way it reminds me of the French vineyards, yet it is a DIFFERENT smell.” “Sure it is,” said Miss Ku, “Here is a factory where they make drink stuff. Grain which could feed starving people is mashed up to make a drink of sorts which people would be better without. But we are going over a railroad bridge now, every train from anywhere to Windsor passes under this bridge.” We drove on a little and then there was such a resounding CRASH! that I leaped straight into the air. “Don't be a slob, Feef,” said Miss Ku, “that was just an engine shunting.” The Guv turned the car, and stopped. “Home, Feef,” said Ma. Miss Ku and I were carried across the snow-covered path, through the front door and up the stairs.

There was the strong smell of fresh varnish and soap. I sniffed the floor and decided that it had recently been well polished. “Never mind that,” said Miss Ku, “you can deal with the floor later. I am going to take you from room to room and tell you about the place. Pay attention because we have some new furniture.” “Sheelagh!” called the Guv, “We are going to deliver the keys to the landlord, Shan't be long.” The Guv and Ma went out, I heard them going down the stairs, get into the car and drive off. “Well, now come with me,” said Miss Ku.

We went all through the Apartment, Miss Ku pointing out obstacles, and the whereabouts of chairs. Then we went out to the back porch. “Open up, please!” yelled Miss Ku. “Do you want to go out, Ku?” asked Buttercup, “All right, I will open the door.” She walked across the kitchen and opened the door. A blast of cold air rushed in and we rushed out. “Here,” said Miss Ku, “is the upstairs sun porch. Screened on three sides. Shortly it will be Monkey Hall. It will be heated. Brrr! Let's get out, it is too cold here.” We wandered into the kitchen, and Buttercup shut the porch door with a sigh of relief and another sigh for silly cats who wandered around—to her—aimlessly!

“Here is the bedroom you will share with the Guv. It looks out over the railroad, over the Detroit River and Detroit City. In the summer, so I am told, ships from all over the world come past this window. We shall see, we shall see!” Miss Ku was in her element, describing the view. “Slightly to the left of us is the place where some men dug a hole beneath the River and made a roadway to America, further left is the Ambassador Bridge. Guv says the word Detroit is a corruption of the French for ‘The Straits’. Guess you'll know all about that, Feef!” Miss Ku suddenly swiveled round so fast that her tail swept across my face. “Golly!” she breathed, “some horrible looking man is staring up at me, he is carrying an official looking briefcase, too.”

That night we slept fitfully, disturbed a lot by the rattle and crash of trains past the window. In the morning Ma went down the stairs to collect the milk. She returned with the milk and a letter which she handed to the Guv. “What's this?” he asked. “I don't know,” said Ma, “It was in the box.” There was the sound of an envelope being ripped open, and then silence as the Guv read. “My goodness!” he exclaimed, “Is there NO limit to the foolishness of Canadian officials? Listen to this. This is a letter from the Department of National Revenue. It starts:

“Dear Sir,

Information received by this office indicates that you are making rental payments to a non-resident of Canada and are not withholding tax. Since you have failed to withhold tax since May 1st, 1959, you are required to withhold sufficient monies from your next rental payment to cover the amount of tax which should have been withheld.

“If you fail to withhold tax as required by the Income Tax Acts, you will be penalized in accordance with...”

“you see?” said the Guv, “we moved in yesterday and already we get threats. I wish we could wake up as from a nightmare and find that we were back in dear old Ireland. WHY do these immature Canadians threaten and bluster so? I think I will take the whole matter up with officials in Ottawa.”

Miss Ku nudged me, “You see, Feef. Just as I told you, that horrible man yesterday was a tax spy. I saw him.” We listened, the Guv was still talking about it. “Can't understand this country, they threaten me with deportation in the very first letter they sent me. Instead of asking me to go to the Medical Officer of Health they THREATEN me with deportation if I don't go. Now, the very day after we move in, they threaten all sorts of penalties. People of this country have not the wits to know that the Wild West days are over.” “The Guv is getting wild,” whispered Miss Ku, “we should hide under the bed!”

The days slipped smoothly by. Gradually we became accustomed to the noises of the trains. The Guv made an awful fuss about the threatening letters, and received apologies from the local Tax people and also from the Ottawa government. A piece appeared in the newspapers about the Canadian officials who tried to intimidate settlers! The weather became warmer and Miss Ku and I were able to sit on the balcony and play in the garden downstairs.

One morning the Guv came back from the Walkerville Post Office with quite a lot of mail, as usual, but this day in particular he brought a very nice letter from Mrs. O'Grady. “I miss her,” said Ma, “I wish she could come out and see us.” The Guv sat still for a time, then he said, “She was a good friend to us. Why don't we get her to come?” Ma and Buttercup sat, silent with amazement. “Guv's gone off his head at last,” whispered Miss Ku, “that's what Canada has done to him.” “Rab,” said the Guv, “how about writing to Mrs. O'Grady and asking if she would like to come? Tell her if she comes next month she will be here the same time as the Queen of England. Think of that, the Queen of England, and Mrs. O'Grady of Eire here at the same time. Tell her the Queen will pass up the River right in front of us. Tell her FOR PETE'S SAKE let us know soon!”

Miss Ku, with quite unconscious humour, said, “Well Feef, now that we have finally got rid of the monkeys we are going to have Mrs. O'Grady.” We all LOVED Mrs. O'Grady, and counted her as a very true friend. I laughed, and pointed out that Miss Ku made it appear that ‘Ve O'G’ was in the same class as the monkeys. Miss Ku, with her usual wit, turned it back on me with, “Nonsense, Feef, anyone but you would realize that after the storm comes the sunshine. Mrs. O'Grady is the sunshine after the monkey storm.” The monkeys had been a ‘storm’ as I heartily agreed. Soon after we had moved into the Riverside Drive house, Mister the Dutch Carpenter had arrived with a truck and the cage. “I vant vor do bring mine Vife vor do see der monkeys, yaas?” he said. Buttercup, the Monkey Queen, said yes, he could bring his ‘vife’ for to see der monkeys when they were installed. Mister the Dutch Carpenter and Mister the Dutch Carpenter's son carried up all the pieces and worked mightily, well, not TOO mightily, to assemble the affair. Then they rubbed their hands, stood back, and waited for the dollars. That settled, they went off after assurances that Missus the Dutch Carpenter's Wife should be invited to Monkey Hall . . .

A day or so later two monkeys arrived, in a big basket of course. Buttercup, all agog to see them, incautiously opened the lid a fraction too much. “OW!” yelled Miss Ku, “DIVE BENEATH THE BED, Feef, WILD MONKEYS ARE LOOSE!” We dived beneath the bed so that we should not be in the way or impede the monkey hunt. The Guv, Ma, and Buttercup dashed around the rooms, shutting windows and doors. For a time all was madness. It seemed that hordes of monkeys were racing around. Miss Ku said, “I will stay near the wall, Feef, and then I shall be safe to grab you and pull you back if a monkey reaches in for you.”

At last one monkey was caught and put in the cage, and then after further struggles, the second. The Family sat back and mopped bedewed brows. Soon Buttercup rose to her feet and formed herself into a one-woman Sanitary Corps to go round the house and remove Monkey Trademarks which were distributed everywhere with amazing profusion. As Miss Ku wisely remarked, “My Golly! I'm glad these things don't fly, Feef!” The Guv and Ma went round straightening things and helping to restore the place to its pre-monkey state.

The Monkey Experiment was not a success. The noise, the smell, the general commotion which the creatures caused was too much. A frantic plea went out to the man called Heddy. “Yes,” he agreed, “these wild monkeys from the South American forests were not really suitable for private homes, but only for zoos.” He would take the monkeys, he said, and let us have a tame one, one bred in captivity, and suitable for a pet. A pale and shaken Family said, unanimously, “NO! Just take these back. Take the cage too as good measure!” So, two monkeys and one very large specially made cage went back. Miss Ku and I now strode about the house with greater confidence, no longer constantly on the alert for monkeys which might have escaped. When the smell had abated, and after the sun porch had been thoroughly washed several times, we spent much time out there. It was a pleasant spot, where the sun shone upon us in the mornings and where we could smell flowers and growing things from the gardens nearby. We had many laughs about the monkeys, but only in retrospect, only in retrospect!

Our joy at the departure of the monkeys was soon increased by a letter from Mrs. O'Grady. Yes, she would come, she wrote, her Husband was glad she would have such an opportunity to travel. “What was he?” I whispered to Miss Ku, “He was a very important man,” she whispered back, “he used to be the Voice of a Ship and used to speak so that all the world could hear. Then he was called Sparks.” Miss Ku thought a moment and then added, “I think he was something to do with radio, yes, it must be, he makes all the electricity for Dublin now, it figgers—it figgers!” “Have they any family, Miss Ku?” I queried. “Yeah, sure,” she replied, “they have a girl kitten called Doris—she will be coming as well—and Mr. Samuel Dog who looks after the place. He is nearly as old as you, Feef.”

The weeks slipped by. One morning the Guv called Miss Ku and me and said, “Now Cats, the next week is going to be busy and noisy. The Queen of England is coming to Windsor, there will be bands and fireworks. Mrs. O'Grady and Doris will arrive today. You, Ku, you must look after Feef; I am going to make you responsible for Feef's safety.” “Okay Guv, Okay!” said Miss Ku, “Don't I always look after her as if she were my own great great grandmother?” There was much preparation, Ma and Buttercup used extra elbow grease on the place, the Guv and we cats used extra energy keeping out of the way so that we should not be swept up. “Let's go up in the attic,” said Miss Ku at last. “These women with their flap make the place dangerous to live in.”

The weather was hot, terribly hot. Miss Ku and I found it hard work to even breathe. Just as our first winter in Canada was exceptionally cold, so was this, the hot season, exceptionally hot. As Miss Ku said, “Golly! Feef, you just can't have raw food now, everything is cooked by this weather.” Ma had gone to Montreal the day before so that she could fly back with Mrs. O'Grady. At about one o'clock of “arrival day” the Guv got out the big car and drove off to Windsor Airport. Buttercup bumbled around and kept looking out of the window. Miss Ku said there was much to see. Within a very few days there would be processions, bands, and aeroplane fly-overs. Not for Mrs. O'Grady, Miss Ku made clear, but for the English Queen who was in the district. There were going to be firework displays, which I knew meant many big bangs. But now we were waiting for our friend Mrs. O'Grady.

Miss Ku and I were having a light lunch in order to fortify ourselves. Buttercup was peering out of the window. Suddenly she said, “Ah Here they are!” (she said it in English as she did not speak Cat), and then she ran down the stairs to open the front door. “You keep out of the way, Feef,” said Miss Ku. “Young Daughter Kittens may be a bit clumsy with their feet. ALL humans are,” she said as an afterthought “You keep close to me and I will see you are all right.”

There was much commotion on the stairs, chattering and laughing, and the sound of cases being dropped on the floor. “Golly!” whispered Miss Ku, “Poor old Ve O'G is looking as hot as a newly fried rasher of bacon. Hope she survives!” At last they reached the top of the stairs and Mrs. O'Grady flopped in the nearest chair. When she had recovered somewhat Ma said, “Come out on the balcony, it may be cooler there.” We all trooped out, and sat down. For some time the talk was of Ireland, a subject dear to the heart of the Guv and Ma. Then the talk swung to the English Queen, a subject dear to the heart of Buttercup, but which left the Guv unmoved. Miss Ku said, “If you want to talk of Queens, WE are the best Queens you will ever meet!” Mrs. O'Grady was looking hotter and hotter. At last she retired to the lower Apartment where she cooled off in Best Windsor City Water and eventually returned looking a little refreshed.

Ma had arranged for Mrs. O'Grady and Daughter to stay at a very good Hotel, the Metropole, and after they had stopped long enough to see the lights of Detroit, the Guv and Ma drove them to the Hotel. Miss Ku went to show the Guv the way, and tell him the best way to drive. I suppose they were gone for half an hour, then the Guv, Ma and Miss Ku returned and we all went to bed to rest in preparation for another day.

In the morning Ma said, “We will collect them after breakfast, when we go for the mail. I think we should drive them round Windsor so they know what sort of a place it is.” We had our breakfast, then Miss Ku and I helped the Guv dress. He is very sick, you see, and has had enough troubles to finish anyone. Now he has to rest a lot and take great care. Miss Ku and I have devoted our lives to looking after him. Soon he and Ma went down the back stairs and across the garden to the garage. Our Landlady lived in Detroit, but in Windsor her affairs were well looked after by her cousin, a very pleasant lady who always spoke most politely to Miss Ku and me. We all liked her a lot. Our car was too large to enter the garage of our house, so Miss Landlady’s Cousin let us keep it in her garage which was very very large indeed. Yes, she was a very pleasant woman indeed and talked to us a lot. I remember that one day she told us that within the lifetime of her father all the settlers worked with guns beside them because of the very real threat of Indian raids. Her father, she told us, took his cattle to drink from the River, where now the railroad tracks run. She had another house a very few miles from Windsor which was a real Log Cabin made of walnut logs. Miss Ku went to see it once and was very impressed with the strange creatures living beneath the steps.

“Glorious Grasshoppers!” said Miss Ku, “they ARE a long time!” We thought that it was a waste of time to sit and wait, so we went up into the attic and did our nails on the beams and had a nice cool dust-bath. From the topmost ridge of the house Miss Ku looked down into the street, some forty feet away. “They have come,” she called, and dropped lightly to the attic floor. Racing down the stairs we were just in time to greet them as they came in. The Guv picked me up and put me across his shoulder and carried me up the stairs. Miss Ku ran ahead up the stairs, calling to Buttercup to come and say “Good morning, Visitors.”

“We went down to see the British Destroyers,” said the Guv. “They are moored down by Dieppe Park. We also took a trip round the city. Now Mrs. O'Grady wants to sit and recover from the heat.” We took chairs and went out on to the balcony. Mrs. O'Grady was very interested indeed in the sights of the River, with ships from all over the world passing along before her eyes. The Guv talked about some Seaway and said that that was the reason for the presence of the ships. I did not at all understand it, and Miss Ku was very vague, but it appeared that some humans had dug a ditch to let water from the Great Lakes flow faster to the sea. As certain American cities were taking too much water, locks were installed and some Canadians kept the keys. They had to unlock some water in order that a ship could float in, then they locked a door behind and unlocked another in front. It was all mysterious to Miss Ku and me, but the Guv knew about it and he told Mrs. O'Grady who seemed to understand what it was all about.

A few days went by, with The Family taking Mrs. O'Grady about to see the sights. It appeared to me to be a waste of time as Miss Ku said they passed by our window. “Gee! Feef!” she would exclaim, “Look at that woman, isn't she a sight?” There was much activity about in front of our house, men were putting up decorations and putting down containers for litter. Little boats with officious men roared along the water, yelling loudly in order to show their importance. Crowds of people came and sat on the railroad tracks, looking out across the water, and throngs of stationary cars jammed the roads. The Family sat on the balcony. The Guv did a lot of photography, and on this day he had a three-legged thing with a camera on the top. On the camera he had what Miss Ku called a telephoto powerful enough to photograph a cat in Detroit.

Mrs. O'Grady was fidgeting about on her chair. “Look!” she exclaimed with great excitement, “all the American shore is lined by red-coated Canadian Mounties!” Miss Ku stifled a laugh as the Guv replied, “No, Mrs. O'Grady, they are not Mounties, that is a train loaded with red-painted farm tractors which have been exported from Canada.” As Miss Ku said, it DID look like red-coated troops, so anyone at all could be excused from such an innocent mistake.

More ships were coming up the River. The noise of the crowd was temporarily hushed, then a babble of talk and a few cheers broke out. “There she is,” said Ma, “standing alone on the after deck.” “And there is the Prince,” said Buttercup, “more towards the centre of the ship.” “I got a fine photo of that helicopter,” said the Guv, “a man was leaning out and photographing the ships below him. That will make a good picture.” The ships went away up the River and as the last vessel moved out of sight the cars on the road started up again. The crowds dispersed and, as Miss Ku said, all that was left to remind us was about half a ton of litter. Once again the train ferries crossed and recrossed the River, and trains thundered and hooted along the tracks before our windows.

While there was yet light, some barges were towed out into the River and positioned on the water where Canada became America, and America became Canada. Apparently if the fireworks were to be discharged from that position, both countries, and not just one, would be responsible for any damage caused. Once again the crowds collected, bringing eatables and drinkables—particularly the latter—with them. All the trains stopped, and someone must have told the ships that they could not come any further. At last the Firework Hour arrived. Nothing happened. More time passed; and still nothing happened. A man called out and said that one of the Set Pieces had fallen in the water. Eventually there came a few weak bangs, not really loud enough to frighten a new-born kitten, and Miss Ku said there were a few strange lights in the sky. Then it was all over. The Guv and Ma said it was time to take Mrs. O'Grady back to the Hotel. Ma said “We will get a taxi, we shall never get our car out of the garage with a crowd like this.” She called the taxi companies and was told that all taxis were held up in traffic jams. “There are a million people or more on the water front,” she was told, “and traffic is packed solid.” The Guv got out the car, and he, Ma, and Mrs. O'Grady disappeared into the crowd. More than an hour later the Guv and Ma returned and said that they had taken an hour to do two miles.

The next day the Guv and Ma took Mrs. O'Grady to see the sights of Detroit, they drove around a lot and then came back to Miss Ku and me. Mrs. O'Grady said she wanted to do some shopping over there so she, Ma and Buttercup all went together, leaving Miss Ku and me to look after the Guv. This was a very full, a very busy week, with two or three weeks sightseeing crammed into one. All too soon the aeroplane people had to fly a plane back to Ireland, to Shannon from whence we had set out.

The Guv and Ma drove Mrs. O'Grady and Daughter to the Airport at Windsor. As we heard Ma tell Buttercup later, they waited until the plane actually took off. The O'Grady's were starting off on a journey, back to Ireland, which we wished we could do. The Guv had tried hard to get work in Windsor, or in Canada. He was willing to go anywhere at all in the country. All he was ever offered was a job as a manual labourer, and that was just too silly for words. Canada, we are agreed, is a most uncultured country, and all of us live for the day when we can leave it. However, this book is not a treatise on the faults of Canada, that would fill a complete library, anyway!

Miss Ku and I were often able to go out in the garden now, never alone of course, because of the many dogs in the district. Siamese cats are not afraid of dogs, but humans are afraid of what WE could do to the dogs. We have been known to jump on the back of an attacking dog, sink in claws, and ride him like a human rides a horse. Apparently it was permissible for humans to strap steel spikes on their heels and then tear a horse's sides with them, but if we sank our claws into a dog in self defense WE were termed “savage.”

This afternoon was a pleasant one; we sat together beneath the Guv's chair—he is very big, weighing two hundred and twenty five pounds and needs a big chair—when a whole collection of cars went by with horns shrieking the place down. I had never bothered about it before, thinking it was just Canadians, so there did not have to be any sense in things they did. I happened to say, “Miss Ku, I wonder why they make all this noise?” Miss Ku was very erudite, and being sighted she had a great advantage over me. “I'll tell you, Feef,” she replied. “Over here when a Tom and a Queen human gets married, they stick ribbons on the cars and then drive in procession with horns blaring all the time. I think it is meant to say, ‘Look out! A gang of crackpots is coming!’ ” She settled herself more comfortably and added, “And when a human dies and is being taken to be shoved into a hole in the ground all the funeral cars keep their headlights full on and have blue and white flags marked ‘funeral’ flying from the side of the cars. They have right of way over all traffic and do not have to stop for traffic lights.” “That is MOST interesting, Miss Ku, MOST interesting,” I said.

Miss Ku chewed a blade of grass for a few moments, then said, “I could tell you a lot about Canada. Here, for instance, when a human dies they take the body off to a Funeral Home, fix him or her up—embalming they call it—do up the face with paints, and put 'em on show in their coffins, or caskets as they are called over here. Then a party calls to pay the ‘last respects’. Sometimes a body will be half sitting up in the casket. The Guv says these Funeral Homes are the biggest money making racket ever. Then when people are going to get married their friends give them a shower.” Miss Ku stopped and chuckled. “When I heard that first, Feef,” she smiled, “I thought the friends gave them a bath—you know, a shower bath. But no, it means they are showered with gifts. Mainly things they don't want, or things which EVERYONE gives them. What would a bride do with half a dozen coffee percolators?” She sighed, “It is a crazy country, anyhow,” she said, “Same with the children. Don't do a thing to the dear little children, don't be cross with them, have special Guards to escort them across the roads. Treat 'em as if they have no brains of their own, which is fair enough, but the point is—the day they leave school for the last time, they are on their own. No one looks after them then. Over here, Feef, there is the unhealthy Cult of the Human Kitten. They can do no wrong. Bad for them, Feef, bad for the country. They should have discipline, or in later years they will fall into crime through being treated too softly when young. Kids here are creeps, punks, BAH!” I nodded in sympathy. Miss Ku was quite right. Indulge a kitten too much, and you laid the foundation for a dissatisfied adult.

The Guv stood up, “If you cats want to stay here longer,” he said, “I will go upstairs and get the camera. I want to photograph these roses.” The Guv was a very keen photographer, and had a wonderful collection of colour slides. He turned and went up the stairs to get his good Japanese Topcon Camera. “Pssst!” whispered the cat from Across the Road, “Psst! I got sumting to tell you, Lady Ku'ei, will ya come to th' fence?” Miss Ku rose to her feet and sauntered across to the wire mesh fence at the side of the garden. She and the cat from Across the Road whispered for a time, then Miss Ku returned and sat by me again. “He only wanted to brief me on the latest American slang,” she said, “nothing important.” The Guv came out with his camera in order to photograph the flowers. Miss Ku and I retreated under some bushes, for we HATED to have our photographs taken. We hated to be stared at by curious sightseers, too. Miss Ku had a mortifying memory of a stupid Canadian woman poking her nose in the car window, pointing to Miss Ku and saying, “What is it, a MONKEY?” Poor Miss Ku went hot all over every time she thought of it!

That night, it was a Saturday, there were many people about. There was some sort of a party on at the Drink House a little distance up the road. Cars were roaring around, and there was much loud talk and discussion as men tried to bargain with women who were waiting on the streets. We went to bed, Buttercup in a room to the side of the house, where she had photographs of monkeys and human kittens and the statue of a Bulldog named Chester. Ma and Miss Ku had a nice room facing the front of the house, and the Guv and I slept in a room facing the front too, facing Detroit and the River. Soon I heard the Guv click off the light, and the bed creaked as he settled down. I sat for a time on the broad window sill, picking up the sounds of the busy night, thinking? What was I thinking? Well, I was comparing the hard past with the lovely present, thinking that, as the Old Tree had said, I was now Home, wanted, living in peace and happiness. Now, because I knew I could do anything, or go anywhere in the house, I took particular care to do nothing that could offend even Mme. Diplomat in far-off France. I remembered the Gov's motto, “Do as you would be done by.” A warm glow of happiness engulfed me. The Guv was breathing gently and I walked across his bed to make sure that he was all right. I curled up at the foot of his bed and fell asleep.

Suddenly I was acutely awake. The night was still except for the faintest of scratchings. A mouse? I listened for a time. The scratching continued. There came the muffled sound of breaking wood. Quickly I jumped silently off the bed and crept across the room in search of Miss Ku. She entered the room and whispered, “Sa-ay; I got noos for ya, ya'd better believe it! I learned that today from the Cat Across the Road. There is a BURGI.AR downstairs, shall we go and rip his throat out?” I thought for a moment, Siamese Cats do do such things in defense of property, but then I thought that we were supposed to be civilised, so I said, “No, I think we should call the Guv, Miss Ku.” “Oh goody, yes!” she exclaimed, “He will soon knock Seven Bells out of a burglar.” I jumped on the bed and gently patted the Guv on the shoulder. He stretched out a hand and rubbed my chin. “What is it, Feef?” he asked. Miss Ku jumped up and sat on his chest, “Hey, Guv, a BURGLAR is breaking in. Beat him up!” The Guv listened a moment, then silently reached for his slippers and dressing gown. Picking up a powerful torch that stood nearby, he crept down the stairs, Miss Ku and I following him. Buttercup came out of her room, “What's happening?” she asked. “Sssh! Burglars,” said the Guv, continuing down the stairs. Beneath us the scratching had stopped. Miss Ku shouted, “THERE HE IS!” I heard pounding footsteps and the crash of the garden gate. By now Ma and Buttercup had joined the Guv. We all went through the lower Apartment. A stiff breeze was blowing through an opened window. “Gerhumping Golliwogs!” exclaimed Miss Ku in awe, “The guy has broken out the window frame!” The Guv dressed and went outside to nail up the broken woodwork. We did not call the Police. Once before a gang of children had stolen the back gate. Ma phoned the Police, and when at long last a policeman came he said, “Aw, you're lucky they did not take the roof from over your heads.”

We Siamese Cats have a high sense of responsibility. In Tibet we guard the Temples, and we guard also those whom we love even when it costs us our life. Here is another of our legends.

“Centuries and centuries ago there lived an old man who was the Keeper of the Wilds to an ancient Lamasery in the far far East. He lived deep in a forest, sharing his cave home with a small Siamese Queen cat who had seen much of the sorrows of life. Together the old Keeper, who was venerated as a Saint, and the little Siamese Cat trod the forest paths, she keeping a respectful distance behind him. Together they went in search of animals who were ill, or hungry, bringing comfort to those afflicted and aid to those with broken limbs.

One night the old Keeper, who was a Monk really, retired to his bed of leaves, exhausted by an unusually tiring day. The little old cat curled up close by. Soon they were fast asleep, fearing no danger, for they were the friends of all the animals. Even the savage wart-hog and the tiger respected and loved the Keeper and the Cat.

During the darkest hours of the night, a poisonous snake, with evil intent, crawled into the cave. Jealous, and with the insane evil that only a poisonous snake could display, it slithered on to the sleeping Monk's leafy bed and was about to strike him with poisoned fangs. Leaping to her feet, the Cat jumped on the back of the snake's neck, distracting its attention from the now awakened Keeper. The battle was long and fierce, with the snake writhing and squirming across the length and breadth of the cave. At last, almost collapsing from exhaustion, the Cat bit through the spinal column of the snake which soon became still in death.

Gently the old Monk disengaged the little Cat from the monstrous folds of the dead snake. Cuddling her in his arms, he said, “Little Cat, for long you and your kind have guarded us and our Temples. You shall always have your place in the homes, the hearths, and the hearts of man. From now on our Destinies shall be joined.”

I thought of all this as we trooped back to our bedrooms and lay down to sleep. The Guv reached out and lovingly tweaked my ears, then rolled over and fell asleep.