There Must Be Something Esoteric About
the Cat, to Judge from Her
Astounding Performances.
However cozily she may sleep upon the rug, however certain her knowledge
of the quickest route to the milkpans on the closet shelf, the cat is ever
but a guest in the house. Though occasionally she permits herself to be
stroked, it is only when a stroking accords with her own desires. She
never makes concessions as the dog does; she is selfish and independent;
so canny in her policies as to be almost uncanny; aloof, full of
indirections.
The late Professor Shaler spoke of "the almost human dog"; and surely we
are able to trace the associational processes of mind by which Fido has
drawn close to his master. We are convinced that Fido does not know that
he is a dog. He does what his master pleases. But Tabby does what she
herself pleases.
If any animal approximates human consciousness, it is the common Tabby.
Perhaps she embodies some force unknown to, or misunderstood by, mankind.
The Chicago _Inter-Ocean_ argues that she does, for we read:
There is never any telling what a cat will do. Everybody who
has kept house, or who is keeping house, or who is an inmate
of a house that is kept, as all well-regulated houses are,
for the partial convenience of the cat, will agree to this
proposition.
The cat, to all appearances, as far as any member of the
family is able to see, has been put out for the night, and
yet she is found to be in at 4 A.M. as usual, pleading with
all the inmates, individually and collectively, to have the
door opened for her so that she may go out.
On the other hand, she is safely locked in, as far as
anybody can see. Witnesses are always willing to testify
that they have seen her locked in. Nevertheless, at about
4.30 A.M., she is heard outside under the bedroom windows,
pleading as usual to be let in.
Again, the cat has been taken to the river in a flour-sack,
and comfortably drowned. The small boy of the family,
accompanied by one of the boarders, who has given the small
boy a quarter, has seen the bag, with the cat inside of it,
sink below the surface.
The news is somehow rumored about the house, and all the
boarders go to bed early that night, feeling that there is
really more in life than they had any right to hope for. Yet
in the morning the voice of that cat is heard on the front
door-step, and the cat herself comes in when Mr. Johnson
reaches out for his morning paper.
And, again, a terrible noise is heard in the dining-room. It
sounds as if the contents of the sideboard had been emptied
on the floor. When sufficient time is given for the burglars
to escape, the procession comes down-stairs, headed by Mrs.
Johnson.
There is not a single thing disturbed in the dining-room or
elsewhere, and the cat is sleeping snugly on the best rug.
It is always a mystery how the cat makes that kind of noise.
The days of superstition are long since passed. Few are
superstitious now, and these are generally the ignorant. But
there are very many people in every community who do not
understand many things about the cat.
It is not going too far to say that many millions of people
who pass for intelligent believe that every cat has two
personalities--one that is just an ordinary cat and the
other an intangible something that can penetrate solid
matter like the X-ray.
This theory would account for the fact that a cat which you
have seen run down by an automobile will be found next
morning chasing squirrels across the lawn, and for the fact
that the cat which you expressed, charges prepaid, to your
brother's wife in Trenton, New Jersey, is heard running over
the piano-keys in your own house a few nights later.
We are far from knowing everything that is worth while about
the cat, much as we may boast of our advancement in general
education.