A Cat Named Pancake

I am always constantly amazed at the lack of evident presence of cats here. Mostly because I know there is generally no attempt to spay or neuter and I know that cats, like rabbits like to breed. I suspect that the lack of cats on the loose is a direct result of a number of factors that are not in their favour. They make easy prey for the soi dogs and snakes. Poison as a control method for the dogs, must surely be effective with cats as well. For a short time, we had neighbourhood cats that would wander into the back yard in search of particularly filled dog food dishes, that the bassets had decided that had their fill. I would watch in amazement as the cats would deftly walk along the top of the cement wall, that is topped with broken bottles, hop in, do a survey, eat and hop back up and out. I expected to find one slashed or impaled, but that never happened. I am sure that if I was to actually count the number of cats I have seen, it would not be above 12 in all the time I have been here.

I had noticed one of the visitors coming in for a late night snack, was heavy with kitten and I had not seen her for a few weeks now. So yesterday, as I was working on refurbishing Thunderbird three, as the weather takes a heavy toll on paint, and the salt water and air are pretty good at forming rust in record time. I heard a kitten crying,
and thought to myself, that my previous pregnant cat had indeed had her babies and they were close by. I did a quick survey of the roof tops, as I see them sometimes huddled there sleeping in the shade of the daytime sunlight. But she was not to be seen.

A little while later, Clive had to go to the dentist to get some work done and off he went on his Scoopy. I had gone inside and heard the pedestrian gate open and Clive calling my name. In his hands was a tiny kitten, all matted and looking not very good. As he got closer, the stink was quite evident and I know it would not have been from him, so I could only guess that it was this sad example of a cat. Initially I thought perhaps it had been mauled or someone had attempted to drown it or it had fallen into one of the local running ditches, full of water and garbage. He was not running late for his dentist, so he deposited it in the upstairs bathroom, while I attempted to figure out what I was supposed to do with this thing. Don't get me wrong, I do like cats. But I also know that I have 4 Basset hounds, who take great delight n the occasional spotting of the stray cats who wander into the yard and begin a mad chase and barking their heads off. It seems to me that cats are great fun to chase in their minds. And true to form, they were all quite curious to see what it was that had suddenly arrived and was screeching, hissing and swatting in their general direction. Being dogs, I suspect that they were more interested in what the smell was and if it was edible. I had also run a few thoughts through my brain about what was to happen, now that cat was here, in the house and what that would mean, as I was sure Clive would not be able to just let it go back out to the street. Truth be told, I did not see that as an option either. As I said, survival rates for a kitten would be between slim to none at best. But I was also not sure that I wanted to add to the collection of what we already had. Plus cats have a  tendency to live a long time, and as I am getting older, I tend to think of them in terms of life expectancy. If they are coming to live with us, probably 15 years of commitment and care. The battle of logic is often challenged by our Buddhist principals, in this case, respect for all living things and giving it the best possible chance for survival. I hate these moral dilemmas, but have come over the years to accept it as part of who we are.

So it came as no surprise to me when Clive called from the dentist office to ask me if I could come to the vet and bring the cat. I am sure the hesitancy and my follow-up questions, such as, why?  conveyed to him that I was not perhaps as willing a participant as he was in this potential new family member. After 27 years, I also know that there will ultimately be no option but to take it in. I had deposited it into the bathroom and took no notice or interest in sexing the kitten. So one cardboard box, some cello tape and a bungee cord to the back seat and off I went ot the vets. As we waited, a woman coming into the office told the cat, in great English that it was very lucky to have found him, referring to Clive. So off we went for the examinations, a bath and some injections. We found out that the cat was a girl and probably no more than 2 months old. The vet suspected that she was all matted and smells as she had probably been feeding in the garbage barrels along the roadside. Not s surprise to me, as I have seen the soi dogs perfect the act of being able to balance with their hind legs on the top of a 45 gallon drum and rummage for something to eat. And, as evidenced in this photo, even the chickens seem to find a little something special in there too. While I do not agree with battery farms for chickens, I have a dilemma about eating chicken and eggs that have been pumped with drugs and hormones, or these one, filled with my latest trip to the garbage cans and who's eggs I probably just ate for breakfast from the moo shop.

So with vet bill and baby cat food, we headed back to the house. A completely different looking keiitten, looking all fluffy and smelling like a very nice bouquet of some exotic flowers. She was purring and kneading to beat the band and greeting the bassets, who rushed her box, with swats and hisses, woth a growl that would rival the biggest tiger.

A serious discussion took place regarding this newest arrival. Should we keep her? Where would we put her if we don't keep her? By the time we began to discuss possible names, it was clear that the first two questions had been answered already. We are taken with the Bangkok Post Sunday edition for a number of reasons, not the least being that they have a complete full page of up to the minute gossip on the Thai TV and movie stars. I would accuse Clive of this, but I have found myself looking to see what has been happening and who is doing what with whom or no longer doing what with whomever it was they were doing it with last week. A major star goes by the name of Pancake. And Pancake has been having her boy troubles for sure. Not only does she seem to make it to the Sunday edition, but the glossy tabloid magazines, dedicated to such things seems to have her face splashed on them on a fairly frequent basis. Pancake seemed an appropriate name, in honour of this star of the entertainment industry, and the fact that if any one of the dogs were to step on her or sit on her, she would surely be a pancake. In Thailand people typically have very long surnames and long first names. And they have a nick name. It is fairly normal for people to be known by their nickname, and not so often by their full first name and mostly not known at all by the surname. The nicknames typically are about three letters long. A bar I used to go to in Bangkok has the staff wear T-shorts with their nickname on them. Some of the exapmples I can recall are Nit, Fat, Pat, Nok, Pon etc.... So we decided that Pancake would be her formal name and her common or Thai name would be Siam.