SOMALI ARTICLES
Here we will continue to add articles written by Patricia N. Warren back in the
mid 70's. Because of her hard work and dedication (and ability to be published), she was instrumental
in the Somalis being recognized in CFA.
I wanted some history behind the author, and who better to tell us then the author herself!!
Enjoy.
MY FIVE YEARS AS A SOMALI BREEDER 1975-80
By Patricia Nell Warren
It was all June and Steve Negrycz's fault. One weekend in late 1974,
they rode the ferry from Patchogue out to Fire Island, with their two Abys
and one Somali in cat carriers. I happened to be on that same ferry, heading
for my own weekend on the Island. Though intrigued by Abyssinians, I had
never seen one outside of cat books. I had never been to a cat show in my
life. And what about that longhaired one?
Hey...who can resist cat magic? So I went over and introduced myself
to the Negryczes.
They lived in Brooklyn and worked for Harper & Row as children's book
illustrators. The longhaair was June's Dancing Moon. The Negryczes
patiently explained about longhaired Abyssinians, called Somalis. Moon had
glorious ruddy color -- deep coppery-orange. He'd been born from a mating
between two registered Abyssinians they'd bought from Lynn-Lee Cattery in New
Jersey. There were a few breeders, they said, who were struggling to pioneer
this new breed in the face of prejudice and paranoia from some established
Abyssinian breeders. They didn't want it known that their shorthairs threw a
"surprise" longhair now and then.
I was intrigued. Having grown up on a Montana ranch, I understood what
the Negryczes were talking about. For several generations, my own family had
helped pioneer "the new" in cattle and horses. My greatgrandfather helped
introduce Shorthorn cattle and Thoroughbred horses to the West. My dad had
been one of the top U.S. breeders of Hereford cattle and Belgian horses. At
home our walls were hung with rosettes from top shows across North America.
My childhood was spent at the show ring, 4-H meetings and stockgrower
conventions. Breeds can come to represent a lot of tradition and
conservatism. Anybody with a new idea can be regarded as a threat.
At the time, age 39, newly divorced, back into horses on a small scale
(a few show jumpers), and involvement in wild-animal conservation, I wasn't
looking for a third critter thing to jump into. But cat magic got me -- the
beauty of these small cats. There was that fox-like appearance of the
Somali, with bushy tail and ruff and ear tufts that enhanced the lithe
Abyssinian shape.
Result: I found myself at the next local cat show, which happened to
be the Brooklyn Cat Fanciers CFF show.
There I met some of the other pioneers, who were exhibiting as a
tight-knit phalanx. Among them were Ina and Marty Rauch of L'Air de Rauch
Cattery, and SCCA vice president Marge Hoff of Margus Cattery. Most notably,
there was SCCA founder/president herself, Evelyn Mague of Lynn-Lee.
Evelyn had been an Aby breeder for many years. She told me the story
of her best Aby sire, Lynn-Lee's Lord Dublin, and how he carried the
recessive gene for long hair, from somewhere back in his pedigree.
"Dubbies," as she called him, sired the Negryczs' cats, so he transmitted LH
to them, resulting in the birth of Dancing Moon. For years, Evelyn had been
the sole U.S. breeder who stuck her neck out and championed the Somali.
Putting up with endless slings and arrows, she had painfully, quietly
collected a few foundation cats from Aby breeders -- the few who didn't
follow the customary practice of quietly "getting rid of" longhair kittens.
One early ally of Evelyn's was Canadian cat judge Ken McGill (Dunedin
Cattery), who started his Somali bloodline with a first-generation longhair
from the May-Ling line of Abys, and began the Somali's acceptance process in
the CCA.
As the Somali Cat Club of America formed up, a few novice breeders had
joined these early veterans. When kittens became available, Evelyn placed
them with SCCA's charter members.
I was hooked.
Joining SCCA, I registered the cattery name Foxtail. This name was
meaningful because, in the Western ranch world, foxtail is a pesky but
beautiful species of grass, whose silky seed-heads are shaped exactly like
Somali tails. Then I put myself on the club's waiting list for a Somali
kitten. One day in early 1975 I drove to the Rauchs' home on Long Island,
and became the owner of a sweet-tempered ruddy half-grown kitten named L'Air
de Rauch's Rocky Raccoon. Rocky was already a 3rd generation Somali, and had
both U.S. and Canadian cats in his background. That show season of 1975-76,
Rocky became 2nd Best SCCA Somali.
It's difficult for young breeders today, whose world is so crowded
with a global diversity of recognized breeds, to imagine the mid-70s. In
CFA, then the giant among cat-fancy associations, a handful of
long-established breeds ruled the roost. Norwegian Forest Cats, Ragdolls,
Tonkinese and many others were still struggling for acceptance. All kinds of
political roadblocks loomed in the way of getting a new breed or color
accepted. But smaller associations, fighting to build their membership,
were blessedly more open to new breeds. Somalis were allowed to compete as
"experimentals," so judges and breeders could get to know them.
So I joined the tiny phalanx. Show after show, we were armed with our
pamphlets and our best arguments why the Somali should be recognized. The
Rauchs always came armed with bags of fresh bagels and pounds of cream
cheese, and kept our energies from flagging.
Many judges and Aby breeders looked at our cats and sniffed. "Poor
quality. Dark roots...light ticking...ugh. You'll never make it."
Yes, quality was a problem. Top Aby breeders weren't letting us have
any top-quality Somalis that they might get. They weren't even letting us
have Aby kittens or stud service, so we could upgrade. Most SCCA members
were novices to the fancy. Established breeders felt they had too much to
lose by getting involved with us. In a word, "Somali" meant "kiss of death."
But our numbers grew. In the East, outstanding novice breeders like
John and Betty Bridges (Santgria Cattery) joined up. In the Midwest, we
picked up outstanding additions like the Harrisons (Winery Cattery) and the
Morrisons (Nephrani Cattery). Then, in the West, the first established
breeder, Ann Kimball of Millcreek Cattery, known for her top American
Shorthairs, joined us. The first British and European breeders got in touch,
the first being Mrs. Jutta Broisch of Cologne, to whom I sold a cat. Then
several Japanese breeders. Australian Somali breeders didn't import any cats
from us, because of the horrendously long quarantine there, but we
established fond links with them.
Meanwhile we pushed into pedigree research. New York breeder Walter
del Pellegrino (Touch of Class Cattery) shared my interest in this. All
first-generation Somalis seemed to have a similar pedigree background,
pointing to post-World War II foundation registrations -- mystery cats like
the ones behind Roverdale Purrkins in Britain and Begus von Orient in
Germany. An unregistered shorthaired foundation cat could easily carry the
longhair recessive, and transmit it down the line to its descendants.
It was sometimes said that Somali breeders became a model for how to
get a breed recognized. And we did it in record time.
Though we had our in-club cat-fights, SCCA members were animated by a
fierce esprit de corps. The SCCA newsletter, first edited by club secretary
June Negrycz, educated its members about grooming, show etiquette, ethics.
We organized big turnouts at shows, so judges and breeders could see large
classes. We created professional information materials, and urged our
members to get professional portraits of their cats, instead of relying on
snapshots. SCCA's monthly ad in cat publications showcased our Best Cat each
year.
Soon we were on a roll -- recognized in ACFA, Crown, CFF, NCFA, ACA,
TICA. And we were closing fast on CFA. We could register in CFA now, and
worked feverishly to get registrations up to quota, so we could apply for
championship status. Evelyn was always urging, working, tracking our
process in half a dozen different associations.
SCCA members knew our cat had to be upgraded, if it was to compete with
the best in its parent breed, let alone the best of other breeds. Our
professionalism was winning support among some CFA judges and board members,
including Dick Gebhardt, CFA president and celebrated show judge. To help us
upgrade, and in recognition that our gene pool was too small, CFA allowed us
to start breeding back to Abys, provided that shorthaired offspring of these
matings be registered as Somalis, never as Abys.
As a writer, I had big dreams for the breed, and accepted Evelyn's
challenge to help promote our foxy-tailed upstart. My goal was do a Somali
propaganda article for every single cat publication. With time my byline
appeared in Cat's Magazine, All Cats, Cat Fancy, CFA Yearbook, Cat-Tab, Die
Edelkatze, and others. It was Cat World that published my article on
Pellegrino's and my pedigree discoveries.
After that, old-time Aby breeders started writing us, to fill in
gaps in our history. From California, the venerable Janet Robertson
(Roverdale Cattery) wrote me to confirm that the mystery mother of Roverdale
Purrkins was a ticked cat that a British sailor brought home from somewhere
during World War II. German breeder Dr. Brigitte Leonhardt wrote me the
wonderful story of the humble Philippine origins of Pilo von Manila, who
traveled back to Europe with her to become the foundation sire of the Von
Orient line in Germany. Indeed, the emerging science of population
genetics, and some intriguing studies done by cat-loving scientists, showed
that Far Eastern streets abounded in cats with agouti (ticked) coats. This
suggested that tales of the Abyssinian's "noble roots in Egyptian temples"
were a myth.
Writing about cats was fun. But I had big dreams as a breeder.
By 1977, I had gotten rid of the show horses, and settled on a 12-acre
rural property in Pawling, New York. The place was located 45 minutes' drive
from my book editor job at the Reader's Digest head office.
Here I teamed up with a friend and noted conservationist, Reg Riedel,
and we plowed our money into a model cat-breeding facility. Under the first
permit ever given to private breeders by New York State Fish & Game, I
assisted Reg's program of breeding endangered species of small wildcats.
This was done under guidelines being evolved in cooperation with the
Convention in Trade on Endangered Species (CITES) by an international task
force of zoos, animal parks, private breeders, biologists, government
wildlife personnel, etc. Our goal was to help keep rare small cats like
tigrinas, Geoffroys cats, etc. from going into extinction.
Around the central building, large outdoor runs were landscaped like
natural habitats, with trees, logs and rocks. This was a new concept, and
Reg helped to pioneer it -- it contributed to his success in breeding
sensitive species. Later on, many big zoos would build this kind of
attractive habitat enclosure.
But I also bred Somalis there, in a different area of that wonderful
facility. (Wildcats and domestic cats did not mix, mainly because wildcats
view domestic cats as dinner.)
Pawling veterinarian Dr. Charles Frumerie smoothed the way for us
locally (we complied with local ordinances, and never had any legal trouble
because of the wildcats). Dr. Frumerie became a loyal supporter and our vet
in attendance. With time, Foxtail became a popular place to visit on
Sundays. We kept the coffeepot on for local folks who wanted to see the
wildcats.
At Foxtail I put into action everything learned as a kid in the
livestock business.
With Dr. Frumerie's help, I started with good animal care and
management. Combination vaccinations against distemper and upper-respiratory
disease had just come on the market. New antibiotics were available to fight
URIs. Catteries were faced with the urgent need to start FELV testing --
feline leukemia had recently been identified, and at that time there was no
vaccine or treatment. Feline infectious peritonitis was also newly
identified. Though it wasn't clear what you could do about FIP, I began a
practice of removing cats from my breeding program and finding pet homes for
them if they weren't 100 percent robust or didn't produce robust offspring.
My inspiration came from Mother Nature, who lets only "the fittest"
breed. Foxtail had a low kitten mortality, because of its rigorous health
policy.
One radical innovation was diet. I fed the domestic cats the same diet
that Reg gave his small wildcats. This was a custom "grind" of raw beef
hearts and chickens (skin, bone and all), with vitamins added. Wildcats
develop osteoporosis in captivity, and wild kittens simply don't survive, if
they don't get raw bone -- cooked bone won't do. With all due respect for
the convenience of canned or dry cat food, domestic cats still have some of
that wildcat need for a high calcium intake, and don't get it from cooked
bone products in standard cat foods. So Reg and I installed freezers and a
restaurant-grade meat-grinder, and made our monthly trip to local meat
wholesalers. (Today, with so much salmonella danger in poultry, this type of
raw grind might not be advisable.)
My domestic cats also got lots of exercise in those big runs. l didn't
believe in keeping show cats caged. Horse breeders know that mares and colts
need big pastures to run in. Human athletes know that exercise promotes high
bone density. There were a lot of light-boned show cats around, and I was
convinced they got that way because of little exercise and a diet deficient
in raw bone.
As a result, our show cats had a recognizable substance.
"God," said one judge, as he thunked one of my Somalis onto his table.
"How do you get bone like this?"
He gently thunked the cat a few more times, so spectators could hear
that satisfying sound of a solid-boned cat's paws hitting the table-top.
Above all, I laid out a 5-year breeding program. To succeed as a
breeder, you have to be honest with yourself about where you are, and where
you want to go, and how you're going to get there. And you can't spare the
cost. It's no different than trying to breed a horse that will win the
Kentucky Derby. There aren't any short cuts.
First I collected the best in existing Somali bloodlines, and mixed
them and matched them to see what happened.
I was after good outcrosses. Enough linebreeding and inbreeding had
already been done in the Abyssinian. Indeed, it was often an Aby
linebreeding or inbreeding that threw a Somali, because the two parent cats
were closely related and both carried the recessive longhair allele. In my
opinion, close breeding had resulted in a loss of vigor in the Abyssinian
itself, and by extension in the Somali. Livestock breeders favor outbreds,
because when you breed too close, you start seeing a rise in congenital
problems and a loss of vitality and good health. Here too, Mother Nature
gave the example -- She doesn't tolerate inbreeding in the wild.
The good ruddy color in Lynn-Lee cats consistently bred true, and
eventually I found the sire I was looking for. This was Tir-Na-Nog's Grand
Canyon, whose pedigree was heavy on Lynn-Lee. He came to me light-boned and
wispy from being caged by his previous owner. After six months of wildcat
living, he glowed with new energy and substance, and went on to tie for SCCA
Best Somali in 1978.
As for females, I had several good ones, including J.R.R. Prairie Rose
and Marron's Long 'N' Silky. But my best queen came from Andrea Balcerski of
Lapinchat Cattery. This bloodline was characterized by a floating silky
coat, not the heavy fleece-like coat seen on some Somalis. The Lapinchat
coat showed off that lithe Aby body without hiding it, with long floating ear
tufts and awesome tail brushes. The line also had consistent clarity,
color, and many-banded ticking. Andy had bred an outstanding foundation
Somali, Sammy Sun, and I told her I wanted a female as good as Sammy. She
sold me Lapinchat's Kat Dancer.
From Grand Canyon X Kat Dancer, I got a litter of two show-quality
males in September 1978. One of these males, Foxtail's Golden West, was
exported to Japan where he helped establish the breed. The other, Foxtail's
Rio Grande, had everything good from the old Somali lines, all in one
outgoing high-energy package.
But Somali breeders were looking to capture genetic material from Aby
"forbidden territory" as well. If we got our hands on that, we could beat
the best everywhere.
As it happened, the leading Abyssinian breeders at that time, Carl
Smith and Rita Rerat, owners of Soketumi Cattery, had recently been won over
to the Somali cause. Carl and Rita owned Anshent-Won's Manani, and had shown
him to CFA Best Cat and Best Aby. Manani had sired Soketumi Samadari, who
had just gone Best Cat/Best Aby. This grand slam was a first in Aby history,
as far as I know. To me, the magnificent Manani, with his fiery ruddy color,
ticking, clarity and type, represented everything outstanding in the parent
breed -- plus he had proven ability to transmit good stuff to his offspring.
Carl and Rita happened to be friends of mine, and offered me a stud
service to Manani. I sent Kat Dancer over to their Long Island cattery. Of
the kittens from that mating, I kept a ruddy female "shorthair Somali" named
Foxtail Shoshone. Carl and Rita also had some amazing red Abys, and offered
to help me with a red Somali program. (At that time, many red Somalis were
not as good as our ruddies.) This was the kind of support that, years ago,
SCCA had only dreamed of.
Meanwhile, in May 1979, the timing was perfect for Rio Grande. He had
just turned 8 months old, ready for the adult division, and CFA had just
opened championship status to the Somali. As I recall, Donna Davis was the
first CFA judge who had the courage to make a Somali her Best Cat. Best Cat!
Music to our ears! We were in the big time now!
After neck-and-neck competition with Nephrani's Kubla Khan, an
outstanding cat bred by the Morrisons, Rio edged ahead, becoming the first
Somali to grand. Khan granded the following weekend.
Those were the days when CFA rules still allowed exhibitors to
"campaign" cats for the national awards. It meant a grueling schedule of
shows every weekend. The practice was already controversial. But Rio loved
motel rooms. No cat I ever showed was such a relaxed performer on the show
table. Carl and Rita encouraged me. So I decided to "go for the Derby,"
and campaigned Rio with some royalty money from bestselling novels.
It went like this: You studied the show schedule, entered two or three
shows each weekend, then called the show secretaries on Friday to see which
show had the most champions entered. Then off you went to the show where you
had a chance of the most points. (Hopefully you remembered to cancel any
alternative motel and travel reservations you'd made.) My driving limit to a
show was 3 hours, and I drove a Vega station wagon into the ground that year.
Farther than that, Rio and I went by air. I would finish my Friday at
the Reader's Digest, drive to Foxtail to pick up Rio and show kit, then drive
an hour to Kennedy or LaGuardia Airport. From there I'd fly to Houston or
Seattle or Louisville or Tampa or wherever, then bathe and groom Rio in the
motel room in the middle of the night. Sometimes I arrived back at Foxtail
at 7 a.m. Monday morning to drop Rio off, shower and drive to work. Reg had
fed my Somalis while I was gone.
At the end of that exciting 1979-80 season, with a growing number of
top judges putting Somalis up, and growing support among top breeders,
Somalis made a big sweep in their first year. Many Somalis made all-breed
and specialty wins. Now and then, I'd notice that happy look in Evelyn
Mague's eyes. Rio wound up Best CFA Somali and 19th Best CFA Cat...the first
Somali to make the national all-breed awards.
Me I was exhausted and broke. In fact my cat was in better shape than
I was. But Foxtail's wall of rosettes looked like the one back home at the
ranch.
My dad was bemused. When I told him I'd just sold a show kitten for
$1000, he grinned wryly. The cattle market hadn't been good, and he was
getting 60 cents a pound for a 1000-pound steer. "Hell, I'm in the wrong
business," he said.
It was a truism that cat fanciers averaged five years in the fancy. One
exception was Evelyn Mague, who'd been there since the Year 1 and was still
going strong, with outstanding cats like Lynn-Lee's Catfish. But June and
Steve Negrycz had already eased out, devoting themselves to Animal Farm,
their new clothing business. Marge Hoff and the Rauchs were no longer
showing.
I had started in 1975 -- now it was 1980. The breeding program was
paying off. My Manani daughter, Shoshone, had been bred to Grand Canyon, and
produced a good litter. The one I had kept was Foxtail's Big Sky.
Big Sky had everything I'd been working to get. As a kitten, at the
National Cat Show in Madison Square Garden, he became the first Somali ever
to make a Best of the Best win, under Dick Gebhardt. By the time Big Sky
entered adult competition in the 1980-81 season and granded in two shows,
many people felt he would be a contender in the national awards "Derby" that
year.
But I suddenly had lost my enthusiasm for the horse races.
Animal breeding takes a lot of time, as well as physical and emotional
energy. I suddenly wanted to put that time and energy into more books, not
more show rosettes. About that time, Random House offered me a lucrative
contract to write a Western historical novel. My health was not good
(eventually I was diagnosed with Lyme disease.)
The choice was clear.
Norwegian Aby breeder Kate Reinert had written me for a couple of
years, telling me she hoped to buy my best cat. She got Gr. Ch. Foxtail's
Big Sky. While he was sitting out six months in a private quarantine station
that Kate built him, I was dispersing the rest of my breeding stock. Rio
Grande went to Debbie and Larry Ritter of Silamos Cattery, who had been
breeding some excellent cats. They showed Rio for a while as a premier (he
never failed to "work" the crowd.) By spring of 1981 -- right on schedule,
five years from when I started -- I was out of showing.
Our Pawling property sold. Reg moved his wildlife breeding operation
(which now included rare birds) to a new property at Carmel, N. Y. I went
to California, and started writing the novel.
There were no regrets. I got my health back, and wrote more books.
Now and then, cat news reached me in the book world. Big Sky won all
over Europe, and sired good kittens for Kate. Grand Canyon became the first
DM sire in the breed, and Shoshone the first DM dam. In 1991, while I was in
Colorado Springs for a writers conference, the Ritters came to visit and
brought 13-year-old Rio with them. He was creaky, but still full of zip and
charm. Finally, one day two years ago, an email message came from Debbie.
Subject: "My Best Cat." Even before I read it, I knew that Rio had died,
after a long life in a loving home.
Times have certainly changed. TICA has grown to giant size.
Campaigning as I knew it is gone. Growing veterinary sophistication, rising
costs, new diseases and congenital problems, zoning regulations, media
coverage, the Internet, DNA testing -- as well as paradigm shifts in how
breeding and animal care are perceived by the public --make today's cat fancy
a different world from the fancy I knew.
What hasn't changed is cat magic. It still pulls me back now and then, to
write about felines for different publications...including SCCA & SBFA web
sites and Newsletters.
Hopefully no one is offended if they find their names omitted from
this brief memoir. It's not for lack of appreciation, just lack of room.
I'm happy to know of renewed SCCA interest in the Somali's early history,
and in the hard work and friendships that got our breed going in those bygone
days.
Copyright (c) by Patricia Nell Warren. All rights reserved.