IT was most graphic, revolting – this cruel and inhumane treatment of live cows that I saw on the Australia Network the other night.
Just because of the poor supervision of 11 out of some 700 abattoirs in Indonesia, the lucrative trade in live cattle between the two neighbouring countries is in a lose-lose situation. For mutual interest, a solution to this problem must be found as soon as possible.
Meanwhile, in suspending the shipment of cattle to those abattoirs, I’m in with my Indonesian and Australian mates in their uproar against such a scandal.
I was so worked up that I was greatly tempted to write more about cruelty to animals in this country but for the timely advice from Auntie Di: stick to something much less violent – during the Gawai period – such as the naming of cats.
Cooling off, I rushed to Padungan to take a snap of the big cat there – a serene, peace-loving one with an extensive wardrobe to suit our many festivals. Come the Chinese New Year he wears the Chinese dress, during Hari Raya he puts on the kopiah or songkok and for the Gawai he wears the appropriate warrior’s dress. Armed with a baby-sized shield, he welcomes tourists to Kuching.
What’s that cat called?
Go nearer and you cannot tell whether it is male or female. I had a good look; it is a neuter all right, without the tail. But has it got a name?
Apparently, the city fathers considered the naming of this landmark a small matter as they have not given it a name. But children want to know what to call the cat.
If nobody objects, then I shall call it Sipadu. It stands for the cat of Padungan minus the tail.
Apparently, according to TS Eliot, the English poet in his book ‘Old Possum’s Book Of Practical Cats’ (Faber and Faber, London):
“The naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
“It isn’t just one of your holiday games”
“There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
“But I tell you, a cat needs a name that’s particular,
“A name that’s peculiar, and more dignified,
“Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
“Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?”
The name ‘Sipadu’ for the icon of Padungan is not as dignified as my cat’s: he’s ‘Dato Sri’ (and he sure acts like one!). The poor chap has been neutered to prevent unwanted pregnancies in the neighbourhood. Dato Sri must be on to his third or fourth life by now out of the nine he has. He is 16 years old – in human terms, that would be about 80. More about DS later.
My first pet
I used to own a cat called Nyeng when I was four or five years old. One day she suddenly died, suspected to have accidentally taken rat poison. I cried and buried her by the riverbank in my village. The bank has since eroded and my Nyeng mouldering away in a watery grave.
Since then I have made it a policy to have a cat for a pet in memory of Nyeng.
On the day Jimmy Carter was elected President of the US, a kitten was being chased by a dog outside my house (someone could have left him there on purpose). My children called the new family member Jimmy. Strange to relate but it’s true: the poor puss was run over by a car years later, exactly on the day his namesake in the US lost his bid for re-election!
Jimmy was a talented cat by any standard; he could even talk in Bahasa with my son and nephew, the boys assured me.
I asked them what the cat said.
We asked, “Jimmy mahu makan?” and he answered, “Mauuu.”
Well, I took the boys’ word for it.
I remember Jimmy sitting on the piano while our Lulu was happily curling nearby. The cat on his pedestal snarled incessantly at the dog below, as if the latter had no customary right to be inside the same house. Lulu, being Lulu, a peace-loving border collie, moved slowly away in order to avoid a nasty confrontation with the king of the castle.
Jimmy has gone to his ancestors; our new cat hails from Miri.
Dato Sri
He was air freighted in a cage and entrusted to the care of a kind Datuk (a real Datuk, that one, not the feline kind). He got the name ‘Dato Sri’ because he is truly a dignified cat, though slightly corpulent. He is selective with whom he associates: he chases away any of the neighbours’ chickens stupid enough to stray into our compound but he does not mind sharing his food with the keruak (swamp hen) infiltrating his territory through a little hole in the fence.
One day the cat’s plate was completely clean. It was a bubut (crow pheasant) which had had a good feed while our Dato Sri did not even raise a paw. Between them they must have worked out a scheme whereby the visitors should also taste the food recommended by the local vets. As it transpired, however, at 80 years old, DS prefers soft canned stuff. He doesn’t care how much it costs! But I’m determined despite the hard times that he will not end up at the SSPCA’s Home for the Aged at Kota Sentosa or (stuffed!) in the Cat Museum.
Across river, in another city, there is such an institution. Such is the measure of our love for the cats that we keep mummified ones and photographs of many more of their relatives around the world to be displayed and showcased. A visit to the museum is highly recommended. You would not appreciate these beautiful pets until you’ve been there.
Sarawakians so love the cats that they call their capital city Kuching and the politicians split her in two halves, the north and the south. We don’t quarrel any more about the origin of the name – from a fruit tree called mata kuching or from an animal the local Malays call pusa.
It has not been a political issue. Not yet. The honourable ministers are still busy doing their maths – is it 80,000 teachers or just a fraction of that number coming to Sarawak next year. Let the ministers do the sum right before they can solve more urgent problems.
Meanwhile we go and cuddle the cats.
A touristy cat
Sipadu has been a tourist icon since he was installed as a landmark to commemorate the first Hari Bandaraya on Aug 1, 1988. Foreign and outstation visitors to the city would invariably stop and have their photos taken by his side for their Facebook page.
My grandchildren whenever on holiday in the city would insist on my taking them to Padungan to see the famous cat and see how he is dressed up. Last time they were here the cat was dressed in Chinese costume.
This time around he is appropriately attired for the Gawai.
In August, he will put on a kopiah or songkok to mark the Raya Aidilfitri.
A suggestion
We also call a town in the Sri Aman Division Pusa. If I may suggest to the tourism people – why not hold an exhibition of cats to liven up the town a bit? Call it ‘Majlis Bersama Pusa’ and invite cat lovers to the town. You will be surprised that the Pusaan may produce their own pedigree pusa.
If you can have a festival of durians in Serian and a Pineapple Fest in Sarikei, why can’t you organise an exhibition of cats in Pusa? I’m sure Pusa people will show off their cats at the exhibition.
Have I sufficiently diverted my readers’ attention from the gory photos of the cruel treatment of the cattle from Australia?
Now that the cats are being well looked after, let’s fight for the welfare of the cows and the others under threat of extinction by human hands.
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