They used to sit close to Burmese kings and guard temples and pagodas’ entrances. The country’s most historically famous animal, however, is nearly non-existent in modern-day Myanmar, as Burma is now known.
When Burma attained independence in 1948, the gorgeous, glossy smooth Burmese cat, which comes in colours of blue-grey, chocolate, and champagne and has huge eyes, vanished about the same time as the British. The silky-haired pedigree lost its purebred status after years of breeding with inferior animals.
However, one local woman believes the cats are an important part of her country’s past and is desperate to recover them.
“You’ll laugh, but I despise cats,” Yin Myo Su adds, her gaze falling on the pussycats scurrying around her legs.
“When I was a kid, kittens would come close to my house and hurt my puppy’s nose.”
“I don’t like cats,” she states emphatically.
Misuu (Yin Myo Su) and her 40 cats dwell on an island in the midst of Inle Lake, a popular tourist destination. They reside in a bungalow created in the manner of the Mandalay Palace, much like the ones that existed in regal history, in isolation from strays on the mainland.
Pedicures are given to the kitties. They have their own staff, and Chaw Su, the cat breeding program’s manager, laughs when she is referred to as their mother.
“She’s also their wedding planner, honeymoon planner, and family planner,” Misuu explains.
Since Misuu, a local hotelier by trade was approached by a Chinese preservation group about bringing the Burmese cat back in 2007, they have made significant headway. The effort to reintroduce the species was devised after negotiations with the China Exploration and Research Society.
Initially, only seven cats from throughout the world were brought to Myanmar by collectors. Four of them came from Australian breeders, while three were purchased at a high cost from Harrods’ pet section.
“It was a massive responsibility,” Misuu explains. “Vaccinations, transportation, vet bills… these kitties are expensive.”
The cats were separated on various islands once they arrived at the lake to ensure that family members would not interbreed and ruin the show. “But guess what?” Misuu asks. “For affection, a tom cat will swim…”
The breeding effort has been a success, growing from seven cats to dozens after a few changes to the island security.
Burmese cats are supposed to have existed for over 1,000 years, to have appeared in stories as reincarnated monks, and to have been held by the last monarch of Burma before the British exiled him in 1885. The cats, known for their beauty and intellect, are now breeding under Chaw Su’s cautious observation. She chooses a promising couple and arranges for them to spend the weekend in the “honeymoon suite.”
The plan is to give the kittens to Burmese people, many of whom have only heard about Burmese cats from old stories. One of the inmates was given his own Twitter account (@phyuley) to promote the initiative, and he introduced himself to the cyber world with the Burmese greeting: “Mingalabar, internet.”
Although many people in this underdeveloped country consider keeping a pet to be a luxury, several of the cats have now been handed away to local families. Foreigners can adopt these wonderful felines as well, but they must pay $600, and both types of potential owners must pass a Chaw Su interview.
The team presented Aung San Suu Kyi, Burma’s democracy hero, with a cat, but the gesture did not go down well. “She also has a dog, and he is very possessive,” Misuu explained. We gave it back because the dog chased the cat and it had to hide.”
But, as Misuu points out, the endeavor is about more than just finding excellent homes for these kitties. “I see Burma losing the things we have, like jade,” she adds, adding that as the country opens up, “we could do something to protect our legacy.”
“People ask, ‘Why cats?’ but why not?” says the author.
Misuu hopes that the project would teach Burmese people that their legacy is something to be proud of, even if it is difficult to remember the recent past.
“It’s critical to return to your roots. “A tree with deep, strong roots is unlikely to fall,” explains Misuu.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Misuu says, “I adore Coke, hamburgers, and jeans.” “However, we must not forget the priceless heirlooms we inherited from our grandmothers.” One of these tales is about how she overcame her aversion to cats.
“My grandmother always taught me not to go to extremes. It isn’t the Buddhist method of doing things. When you declare you despise something, the world has a way of teaching you to respect it and love it,” Misuu explains. In her own house, she has two Burmese cats.
“These kitties are actually my guardian angels,” she explains. “These kitties have taught me how to love,” says the author.
