| |
Taking
a Flier
In March
of 1990 a materials engineer from Hackensack, New Jersey,
named David Boehm read a magazine article about Siberian cats.
He owned several Norwegian forest cats at the time, but he
was so taken with the Siberians that he resolved to be the
first person to import them to this country. He telephoned
the woman in West Germany who had written the article and
learned, to his delight, that she would be in Orlando, Florida,
in May exhibiting two of her Siberians at the ACFA (American
Cat Fanciers Association) international show. Earlier that
year ACFA had become the first American cat group to accept
Siberians for registration and exhibition in experimental
classes. This despite the fact that there were no Siberians
living in the United States at the time.
After
Boehm had chatted up the two Siberian cats in Orlando, he
began working the phone, but soon he concluded that "it
would be difficult to obtain these cats from known sources."
He decided to plunge into the unknown instead. He left Kennedy
airport on Wednesday June 27 bound for Leningrad, the site
of a cat show that weekend. At nearly the same time that he
arrived in Moscow on an Aeroflot jet, three Siberian kittens
departed the airport on a Pan Am flight bound for the United
States. The kittens, nine to 15 weeks old, were being shipped
to Elizabeth Terrell, a Himalayan breeder who then lived in
Baton Rouge, Louisiana. The kittens were part of a cultural
exchange program between Terrell and Nellie Sachuk, a member
of Leningrad's Kotofei cat club. Terrell had sent two Himalayans
to Russia -- a male and a pregnant female -- in return for
the Siberian kittens. The exchange between Terrell and Sachuk
had been inspired by a 1988 article in a Himalayan breed publication
that asked if any American breeders would be willing to send
Himmies to Russia to help get that breed established there.
And
the Runner-up Is
Although
he had spoken with Terrell by phone a week before leaving
for Russia, Boehm didn't realize when he landed in Moscow
that he was playing for second place in the first-to-import
stakes. He took a flight from Moscow to Leningrad, checked
into a hotel, and asked where to find Siberian cats. He was
told there would be many at the show that weekend. Meanwhile
he might want to look in the markets, all-purpose Soviet institutions
similar to farmers' markets in the United States. Armed with
a note written for him in Russian that read, "I am looking
for Siberian cats," he left for the nearest market, about
an hour's walking distance away. There he bought a young,
red- and-white male, which he carried back to the no-pets-allowed
hotel and sneaked in under his jacket. The hotel staff, intrigued
by this cat- gathering American who distributed pantyhose,
cigarettes and generous tips, quickly became co-conspirators
in the acquisition and lodging of Boehm's growing colony.
After
five days in Leningrad, Boehm left for Moscow with 13 Siberian
cats, a Russian blue, and a white, good-luck cat that had
been given to him by a Russian English teacher. He bought
two more Siberians in Moscow, then was airborne on the Fourth
of July. He didn't find out until he phoned Terrell two days
later that his 15 Siberians were numbers four through 18 on
the U.S. import list.
The
Firstborn Prize
Although
Boehm had been left at the importation gate, he did claim
the distinction of being present at the birth of the first
Siberian kittens born on American carpeting. The kittens were
delivered at 6:45 a.m. on Wednesday October 10 by a black
female named Mary, whom Boehm had bought, with papers, from
a member of Moscow's Fauna cat club. According to registration
rules then in effect, Mary's kittens were eligible for enrollment
in The International Cat Association (TICA), which required
that Siberians born in this country had to be the offspring
of cats with demonstrable Russian origins." (The perceptive
reader will note that TICA did not require Siberians to have
demonstrable Siberian origins.)
The rules
for registration in ACFA were somewhat different. Because
there was no central cat registry in Russia, such as the half
dozen or so central registries in the United States, pedigrees
were issued and shows were sponsored by individual clubs.
There were two cat clubs in the Soviet Union, according to
Boehm, that issued registration papers for Siberian cats:
the Fauna club in Moscow and the Kotofei club in Leningrad.
Each maintained that its Siberians were the true representatives
of the breed, while the other club's were watered-down vodka.
Yet both agreed that cats bred without club sanction and sold
privately in the markets were black-market Siberians.
Earlier
in 1990 the 1,046-member Kotofei club had become a licensed,
international partner of ACFA, which agreed to accept for
registration any Siberians (or the American-born offspring
of any two Siberians) imported from Russia with the Kotofei
seal of approval. This seal was granted only to cats whose
parents were registered with the Kotofei club. That didn't
mean ACFA refused to register cats from the Fauna club or
from the markets, but it did so only on a case-by-case basis.
The Kotofei
club, one should note, was just three years old then. It hadn't
been keeping records on Siberians for significantly longer
than anybody else had, nor had it demonstrated that the cats
in its registry were derived from different, let alone better,
stock than cats selling for a lot less money to Westerners
shopping in the Russian markets.
Shapes
of Things to Come
A cat
association that accepts a provisional or experimental breed
for registration still must be convinced that the breed is
worthy of official sanction before permitting members of that
breed to compete in championship classes. Thus, Siberian advocates
were obliged to answer one pass-fail question: Why do we need
another semilonghair cat from a cold, unforgiving, take-no-prisoners
climate when we've already got the Maine coon cat and the
Norwegian forest cat, both of which resemble your cat?
Siberian
breeders artfully split these resemblances by contending that
their cats are a constellation of circles and curves, while
Maines are a confederation of rectangles, and Norwegians are
triangular in theme. That argument has been accepted by six
of the big nine cat registries in the United States: TICA,
ACFA, the American Association of Cat Enthusiasts, the Cat
Fancier's Federation, the United Feline Organization and the
International Cat Enthusiasts. All of the above currently
allow Siberians to compete in championship classes. Anyone
interested in acquiring and registering a Siberian cat should
ask the breeder of that cat for the names of the associations
in which the cat is eligible to be registered.
Historical
Inaccuracies
According
to most accounts of Siberian cats' history, Russian immigrants
to Siberia brought cats with them; and those cats eventually
consorted with local cats. In time, perhaps owing to the severe
climate or to the liaisons with local cats, or to both, the
original cats from Russia developed longer hair, weatherproof
coats and the ability to defend their households like guard
dogs. At some subsequent point a significant number of these
new-and-improved Siberian cats made the 800- to 1,000-mile
trip across the Ural Mountains to Moscow and Leningrad, the
cities where Siberian cats are most prominent. Finally, the
members of cat clubs in those cities were able to distinguish
these Siberian cats from run-of-the-market, nonpedigreed longhair
cats.
For
all its currency this theory remains a series of dots with
few connecting facts or documentation. This writer spoke with
Elizabeth Terrell in October of 1990 and asked her, "At
what point did people go to Siberia and take their cats with
them?"
"That,"
replied Terrell, "hadn't come up" in her conversations
with Siberian breeders in Russia. "They never told us."
Then
at what point did Siberian cats start coming back to Leningrad
or to Moscow from Siberia?
"They
haven't told us that either," said Terrell.
Despite
-- or perhaps because of -- the lack of historical information
about Siberian cats, people seem willing to accept the most
fanciful stories concerning this breed. Many of those fanciful
stores appear on the mother of all repositories of half-truths
and myths -- the Internet. On one website (www.pets4you.com/pages/croshka.html)
we read that "Siberians then spread throughout Europe
and was noted in Harrison Weir's late 19th century book, Our
Cats and All About Them, as one of the three longhairs represented
at the first cat show held in Europe in the 1700s."
Excuse
me, but the first cat show held in Europe, a show that was
organized by Harrison Weir, occurred in London's Crystal Palace
in 1871. More important, there is no mention of a Siberian
cat in Weir's book. On page 30 of that text is a pen-and-ink
sketch of a Russian longhair, which, said Weir, was "given
me many years ago." Its "parents came from Russia,
but from what part I could never ascertain."
Until
the appearance of substantive proof that Siberian cats actually
came from Siberia, perhaps it would be more accurate to say,
"Siberian is the name given to Russia's native semi-longhair,"
as one website does (www.breedlist.com/siberian-breeders.html).
One
American breeder puts an interesting spin on the Siberian's
history by claiming, "Centuries ago these magnificent
animals made their homes in Russian monasteries, where they
would walk along the high beams as lookouts for intruders."
(www.siberiancats.com)
This statement begs at least two questions. How did the cats
get from the monasteries to the Russian cat clubs? And wouldn't
the cats have made better lookouts if they had sat in windows
instead of balancing on beams?
Dasvedanya
Oftentimes
the hype and happenstance surrounding a breed of cat obscure
its real virtues. When we read, for example, that "Siberians"
are unique in that they do not have the FEL D-1 in their saliva
and do not produce dander on their fur," we are inclined
to wonder how this information was obtained. Then, upon reading
in the following paragraph that "No official study has
been commissioned to date" to study this phenomenon,
we might be tempted to throw the cat out with the caterwauling.
That would be intemperate. Thus, the final words on Siberian
cats should come from the person who was the first to import
them to the United States.
"We
were impressed from the time we got the cats," said Elizabeth
Terrell, who now resides in Maine. "They were two and
three months old when I got them, but they looked like grown
cats. Nobody could believe they were kittens. They were extremely
friendly from the beginning. They never once cowered in a
corner or anything. We've never found anything they're afraid
of.
"I
have a 4,000-square-foot house, we live in 200 feet of it,
the rest is cats. The Russians described the Himmies I sent
them as true cowards. They're people oriented, but they don't
like company. These [Siberians] are the most affectionate
things I've ever seen."
Phil
Maggitti is a freelance writer and editor living in a land
of virtual reality. His forwarding address is: http://home.ptd.net/~heyphil
|