In the fall of 1878, the family of President Rutherford B. Hayes watched as a Wells Fargo crate was pried open to reveal its long-awaited cargo: a Siamese cat, the first of its kind in the country, that had endured two months of travel by land and sea before arriving in the White House. Though much beloved, the new pet (rather unimaginatively dubbed “Siam”) by all accounts did not take well to its new home. Not long after its arrival, Hayes’ daughter reported that the cat’s health had suddenly taken a turn for the worse, and a veterinarian’s prescribed diet of “beef tea and milk every three hours” was not enough to save it.

The president’s pet may not have been long for this world, but love of Siamese cats is eternal: since the Ayutthaya period (1351–1767), manuscripts extolling the virtues of auspicious breeds have circulated in what is now Thailand, though the examples that come down to us today all date from after the sack of the former capital by the Burmese in 1767, during which numerous manuscripts and artworks were destroyed. Cat treatises, called Tamra Maew, were part of a category of Siamese manuscripts — often created on mulberry bark and bound in a concertina format — that sought to taxonomize animals with royal or religious significance, such as horses and elephants. In addition to enumerating types of lucky cats, many Tamra Maew also warn their readers against unlucky cats: cats with a tiger-patterned coat, cats that ate their own young, cats with bloodred eyes that stole food, and cats that would sit on their own curled-up tail.

Though relatively simple, the paintings in the nineteenth-century Tamra Maew featured below nevertheless capture each cat’s sense of mischievousness and evince a loving attention to fur texture and coloration. The artist has placed each specimen — including one with a fish in its jaws — on a pedestal like a deity before a crowd of adoring worshipers. Other examples in the genre show the cats sticking out their tongues, licking their bellies, or sporting a chunky belled collar.

Tamra Maew manuscripts pair illustrations of these auspicious pets with poetic descriptions and notes on what mystical benefits the owner might hope to accrue, which may range from riches to good health. Translations of a Tamra Maew published in Cabinet magazine gives us a sense of what these breed descriptions were like: one cat has “eyes like dewdrops on a lotus”, while another’s are “lit like fireflies, applied liquid gold”. One has a “body colored as a conch shell”, while another is “white as cliffs”. Even the names of the different subtypes have poetic charm: Dark Sapphire, Excellence, Jeweled Cloth, Lao Flower.

It is to the breed called Wichien Maat, or Moon Diamond — better known to Western audiences as the Classic Siamese — that Hayes’ ill-fated pet belonged. Rama V, Siam’s king at the time, reportedly enjoyed giving them as diplomatic gifts. A carefully selected Wichien Maat presided over the coronation ceremony of Thailand’s current king, Rama X (though conspiracies swirl about whether or not it may actually be a doll), but many other breeds featured in the Tamra Maew have not fared as well: of the seventeen included in most versions of this treatise, only a handful are known to have survived until the present day.

For slightly creepier specimens, see this other Tamra Maew manuscript held by the Library of Congress.