The History of the Asian Cat Breed

THE ASIAN STORY by Miranda von Kirchberg
In retrospect the summer of 1981 seemed a succession of golden days before the threats of cata-napping, builder’s mates and rapidly mutating viruses made it necessary to confine the cats. 

Our Russians lolled languidly in the garden in the shade of the peony bushes.  Zatasha Silver Sparkle, a ravishingly pretty silver tabby, swiped hopefully but unsuccessfully at passing butterflies; our adolescent Burmese sisters, Bambino Lilac Faberge and Bambino Azurhazy raced vertically on the ancient wisteria which held the house together, weaving in and out of the giant blue cascades to peer with whiskery curiosity into fourth floor windows; and Jamari Sanquist, a Chinchilla kitten, (intended as a future mate for Zatasha Silver Sparkle) pursued the dashing Burmese as fast as short legs and smitten pounding heart would allow him. His particular love was Faberge who teased him unmercifully and stole his spider, dangling it tantalisingly on the dizzying heights of inaccessible branches.

The whole feline Garden of Eden was presided over by the benevolent presence of Hengist Busby, the senior Russian Blue, who ran a finishing school for kittens. This may sound idyllic and, at the time, I was convinced that the happy ‘Co-existence Tree’ could be maintained by love and vigilant care—not so. . Some breeds are simply not compatible and exacerbated by the burgeoning sexual impulses, this happy state was not to have a ‘happy ever after’ ending. . As Aldous Huxley said, “Where the hormones there Moan I” – all too true in the case of foreign queens – but he neglected to mention in addition “there fight I” – a disturbing manifestation of philoprogenitive instinct which, fortunately in most humans is masked by the conventions of polite society. ..

Sadly, war did break out in our paradise and the carefree innocence of that magical summer was never to be regained. . Because of the competing for dominance the Russians and Burmese had to be kept in separate quarters. So Zatasha Silver Sparkle was eventually rehomed with a neighbour after being bullied unmercifully by the foreign cats. 

Only Sanquist, blithe and equitable spirit, move tranquilly amongst the others without provoking hostility… People frequently say “and they were such sweet cats too” in bewildered tones when they realise the cats they love do not necessarily love each other. Particularly en masse. But back to the golden summer, the mise en scene for ‘the accident that was waiting to happen’. Faberge, the lilac Burmese, began to come into call, so I put her and her sister into the study and rang to confirm the assignation with the Burmese Champion stud, Bambino Kandibarkid.

When I noticed that Sanquist was missing I was told by my housekeeper that he’s been crying so pathetically outside the study door that she had let him in. I rushed upstairs Sanquist and Fabergé were, to my great relief, sitting sedately in front of separate windows looking out over the square as if they had never been introduced, let alone anything more torrid. Of course, Sanquist was really only a baby, wasn’t he?

The rest is history. Faberge went off on her honeymoon, came back silky and sleepy and as the roses bloom so did she, until that momentous day in September when she went into labour, with Sanquist keeping his vigil outside the door and her four beautiful, healthy, female kittens were born.