A Cat Is Still a Cat

On a quiet afternoon in the countryside, a man sat on his porch. In his lap lay a plump tabby cat, half asleep. The man looked down at his cat and swelled with pride. This cat was so clever, its fur so sleek, and even the way it sat was grand. The longer he looked, the more he felt that calling it a cat was far too ordinary. It seemed unfair to such a precious animal. It needed a big name, a name with a real ring to it. So begins a funny tale that people long ago passed down for later generations to laugh at.

This is a Vietnamese folk fable, told and retold over many generations as one of the country's funny stories. It has no date and no particular place. There is only a man, a cat, and a name that keeps changing back and forth and never settles.

Long ago, there was a man who kept a cat and doted on it. He thought it over for a long time, then decided he would no longer call it a cat. He gave it a truly grand name. He called it Sky. To his mind, nothing was higher or greater than the sky. So his precious cat deserved to bear that highest of names.

One day, a guest dropped by. They sat talking for a while, and the guest heard the host call the cat Sky. He found it strange. He asked why the cat had such a lofty name. The host puffed out his chest and answered. His cat was very precious, he said, and calling it a cat was too ordinary. Only Sky was worthy of it.

The guest smiled at this, then gently asked a question of his own. The sky was high, certainly. But whenever clouds rolled in, they covered the whole sky, and the sky could no longer be seen at all. So clouds turned out to be even greater than the sky. Why not call the cat Cloud and give it the better name?

The host nodded slowly. That made sense. Clouds could cover even the sky, so clouds had to be mightier. From then on, the cat was renamed Cloud.

But the guest went on, smiling to himself. Clouds were impressive, true. But whenever the wind rose, it blew the clouds apart, and they drifted off and vanished until nothing was left. So the wind turned out to be stronger than the clouds. Why not call the cat Wind and make it greater still?

The host nodded over and over. Quite right. The wind could chase away even the clouds, so the wind had to be stronger still. So the cat was renamed once more, and this time it became Wind.

The guest took his time and carried on. The wind was strong, certainly. But however hard it blew, when it met a wall it had to stop. A wall standing across its path left the wind nowhere to go. So a wall turned out to be sturdier than the wind. Why not call the cat Wall and make it steadier still?

The host was delighted to hear it. Of course. A wall stood tall and firm, and no wind could get past it. So his cat, which had been Sky only a little while ago, now carried the name Wall.

But the guest was still not done. He laughed again and spoke up once more. A wall was sturdy, true. Yet a wall that big needed only one tiny mouse, gnawing and nibbling and boring away night after night, and in time the mouse would make a hole right through it. So the tiny mouse turned out to be greater than the wall. Why not call the cat Mouse?

Here the host hesitated a little. Calling his beloved cat Mouse sounded rather odd. But the more he turned it over, the more he saw that the guest had a point. A mouse that could bore through a whole wall was quite something, after all. Oh well, then. Let it be changed. The cat took on another new name, and the name was Mouse.

The moment that name was given, the guest slowly asked his last question. Now then, a mouse could bore through a wall, that was true. But what happened when a mouse met a cat? One pounce from the cat, and the mouse could run to the far ends of the sky and still not get away. So in all the world, to a mouse, nothing was more frightening than a cat. In the end, then, the finest name, the truest name and the grandest name for the host's pet turned out to be Cat.

Hearing this, the host sat stunned for a moment. Then he burst into a hearty laugh. It was true. After going round and round, giving it one name after another, Sky, Cloud, Wind, Wall and Mouse, the best name of all was still the plain old name from the very start. His cat had been renamed again and again to sound grand, and in the end it was still only a cat. Calling it Cat was the most fitting thing of all. All this time the tabby had been sleeping in its owner's lap. It had no idea it had just been given so many lofty names. It only stretched its legs a little, gave one long yawn, and curled up to sleep again, exactly itself from beginning to end.

From that funny tale comes a saying that the Vietnamese still pass on today. A cat is still a cat. The saying means that however many grand names people drape over something, and however much they paint it up to look dazzling, in the end it returns to its own true nature. A cat is still a cat, and no grand-sounding name can make it anything else.

People once wanted to call a cat Sky, and Cloud, and Wind, and even a great wall. Yet in the end, the name that fit best and was dearest of all was still Cat. A cat is still a cat, and that is just right.