The Cat God

Tonight, in some family's kitchen, a rat is probably creeping across the floor. And a cat is probably watching it without a sound. It happens every night, in every home, from one generation to the next. People in Vietnam say it all began up in Heaven, long before there was a single house on earth.

In those days, small things kept going missing from the storehouses of Heaven. So Ngọc Hoàng, the Jade Emperor, looked for a careful guard. Many in his court recommended the Rat God, Thử thần. They said he was hardworking, quick and trustworthy. Hearing this, the Jade Emperor handed the Rat God the whole bunch of keys and made him keeper of the stores. He told him to watch them closely and to report twice a year. The Rat God bowed and promised to carry out his duty in full.

For the first few years, the Rat God kept that promise. Every storehouse stayed exactly as it was, without a single grain missing. But the riches of Heaven were too many to count. However much was taken out, the stores soon filled to the brim again. Gazing at stores that never ran low, the Rat God began to think differently. Just one handful from each store, he thought, and who would ever know? No sooner thought than done. Then one handful became many handfuls. His household grew richer by the day. His wife and children dressed in fine silks, and he carried riches to all his relatives and friends.

But nothing stays hidden forever. The Jade Emperor discovered that the stores were running short. The thief turned out to be the Rat God himself, and the emperor was furious. The old promise had been broken right in front of the one who had trusted him with the keys. The Rat God was stripped of his post at once. He was banished down to earth, and he turned into a tiny creature with a pointed snout and a long tail. The people below called it the rat.

Down on earth, the Rat God kept his old habit. His tiny new body turned out to be handy, for it could squeeze into every nook of people's homes. Night after night the rats rummaged through the rice and grain. They chewed clothes, nibbled books, and gnawed holes in chests and trunks. And the rats bred faster than anyone could count, one swarm after another, until they filled every village, high and low. Every household suffered, and no one could stop them.

So the people cried out to Thổ Công, the god who dwells in every home. Thổ Công took pity on them and went all the way up to the court of Heaven. Standing before the throne, he said, "Heaven's stores are endless, but people's homes have only so much. They are poor, and they work hard and still do not have enough to eat. If the rats are allowed to go on like this, I fear the people will not survive."

The Jade Emperor was taken aback to hear it. He had never thought that the tiny creature he himself had made could cause such harm. After long thought, he summoned the Cat God, Miêu thần. He declared, "Go down to earth and help the people. Tell the rats to keep their paws to themselves and leave poor families' belongings alone. If they will not listen, then deal with them properly."

The Cat God hesitated a little at this. He answered, "Your Majesty, the rat clan is now beyond counting. Every one of them is a wonder at climbing, squeezing through gaps and hiding. I fear they will be hard to handle." The Jade Emperor said at once, "Very well. I will give you a body two or three times the size of a rat. Strong, supple muscles, for running and leaping fast. Sharp claws. And a pair of bright eyes, to see clearly even in the dark of night." The Cat God had long held an old grudge against the Rat God. Delighted, he bowed, obeyed, and went down to earth at once. From that time on, the creature called the cat has been in the world. It was born to solve a problem that even the Jade Emperor had not foreseen.

Once he arrived, the Cat God worked very hard. Whenever he met a rat, he raised his voice in warning. These people are very poor, he cried, so do not ruin what little they have. In Vietnamese, the word for poor is nghèo. The Cat God yowled that word so often that people grew used to hearing it. Then, as the old tale has it, they began to say it a little differently, and it became mèo, the name Vietnamese people still give the cat today. Any rat that listened was left in peace. If a rat stubbornly kept up its mischief, the Cat God charged at once. At the slightest stir of the cat's shadow, the whole pack of rats scattered in a panic. They vanished into holes and cracks, and not one dared look back.

From the day the Cat God came, the rats did far less damage. People were deeply grateful to him, and they treated him quite differently from the other animals in the house. The cat's rice and food were always served in a bowl of its own and set down with care, as if for someone who had earned it.

And ever since, whenever night falls and rat feet creep softly in a corner of the kitchen, the shadow of a cat quietly appears. Its eyes shine bright and pierce right through the dark. At the sight of it, the rats hurry off to hide. And the cat keeps prowling from one corner of the house to the next, keeping watch so the home can rest in peace. Tonight, the Cat God is still doing the task the Jade Emperor gave him so long ago.