THE CAT.
THE cat is unquestionably a highly intelligent animal, though when
contrasted with its great domestic rival, the dog, its intelligence,
from being cast in quite a different mould, is very frequently
underrated. Comparatively unsocial in temperament, wanderingly
predaceous in habits, and lacking in the affectionate docility of the
canine nature, this animal has never in any considerable degree been
subject to those psychologically transforming influences whereby a
prolonged and intimate association with man has, as we shall
subsequently see, so profoundly modified the psychology of the dog.
Nevertheless, as we shall immediately find, the cat is not only by
nature an animal remarkable for intelligence, but in spite of its
naturally imposed disadvantages of temperament, has not altogether
escaped those privileges of nurture which unnumbered centuries of
domestication could scarcely fail to supply. Thus, as contrasted with
most of the wild species of the genus when tamed from their youngest
days, the domestic cat is conspicuously of less uncertain temper towards
its masters--the uncertainty of temper displayed by nearly all the wild
members of the feline tribe when tamed being, of course, an expression
of the interference of individual with hereditary experience. And, as
contrasted with all the wild species of the genus when tamed, the
domestic cat is conspicuous in alone manifesting any exalted development
of affection towards the human kind; for in many individual cases such
affection, under favouring circumstances, reaches a level fully
comparable to that which it attains in the dog. We do not know the wild
stock from which the domestic cat originally sprang, and therefore
cannot estimate the extent of the psychological results which human
agency has here produced; but it is worth while in this connection to
remember that the nearest ally of the domestic cat is the wild cat, and
that this animal, while so closely resembling its congener in size and
anatomical structure, differs so enormously from it in the branch of
psychological structure which we are considering, that there is no
animal on the face of the earth so obstinately untamable.
As regards the wild species of the tribe in general, it may be said that
they all exhibit the same unsocial, fierce, and rapacious character.
Bold when brought to bay, they do not court battle with dangerous
antagonists, but prefer to seek safety in flight. Even the proverbial
courage of the lion is now known, as a rule, to consist in 'the better
part of valour;' and those exceptional individuals among tigers which
adopt a 'man-eating' propensity, snatch their human victims by stealth.
That the larger feline animals possess high intelligence would be shown,
even in the absence of information concerning their ordinary habits, by
the numerous tricks which they prove themselves capable of learning at
the hands of menagerie-keepers; though in such cases the conflict of
nature with nurture renders even the best-trained specimens highly
uncertain in their behaviour, and therefore always more or less
dangerous to the 'lion-kings.' The only wild species that is employed
for any practical purpose--the cheetah--is so employed by utilising
directly its natural instincts; it is shown the antelope, and runs it
down after the manner of all its ancestors.
Returning now to the domestic cat, it is commonly remarked as a peculiar
and distinctive trait in its emotional character that it shows a
strongly rooted attachment to places as distinguished from persons.
There can be no question that this peculiarity is a marked feature in
the psychology of domestic cats considered as a class, although of
course individual exceptions occur in abundance. Probably this feature
is a survival of an instinctive attachment to dens or lairs bequeathed
to our cats by their wild progenitors.
The only other feature in the emotional life of cats which calls for
special notice is that which leads to their universal and proverbial
treatment of helpless prey. The feelings that prompt a cat to torture a
captured mouse can only, I think, be assigned to the category to which
by common consent they are ascribed--delight in torturing for torture's
sake. Speaking of man, John S. Mill somewhere observes that there is in
some human beings a special faculty or instinct of cruelty, which is not
merely a passive indifference to the sight of physical sufferings, but
an active pleasure in witnessing or causing it. Now, so far as I have
been able to discover, the only animals in which there is any evidence
of a class of feelings in any way similar to these--if, indeed, in the
case even of such animals the feelings which prompt actions of
gratuitous cruelty really are similar to those which prompt it in
man--are cats and monkeys. With regard to monkeys I shall adduce
evidence on this point in the chapter which treats of these animals.
With regard to cats it is needless to dwell further upon facts so
universally known.
_General Intelligence._
Coming now to the higher faculties, it is to be noted as a general
feature of interest that all cats, however domesticated they may be,
when circumstances require it, and often even quite spontaneously, throw
off with the utmost ease the whole mental clothing of their artificial
experience, and return in naked simplicity to the natural habits of
their ancestors. This readiness of cats to become feral is a strong
expression of the shallow psychological influence which prolonged
domestication has here exerted, in comparison with that which it has
produced in the case of the dog. A pet terrier lost in the haunts of his
ancestors is almost as pitiable an object as a babe in the wood; a pet
cat under similar circumstances soon finds itself quite at home. The
reason of this difference is, of course, that the psychology of the cat,
never having lent itself to the practical uses of, and intelligent
dependency on, man, has never, as in the case of the dog, been under
the cumulative influence of human agency in becoming further and further
bent away from its original and naturally imposed position of
self-reliance; so that when now a severance takes place between a cat
and its human protectors, the animal, inheriting unimpaired the
transmitted experience of wild progenitors, knows very well how to take
care of itself.
Having made these general remarks, I shall now pass on to quote a few
instances showing the highest level of intelligence to which cats
attain.
As to observation, Mrs. Hubbard tells me of a cat which she possessed,
and which was in the habit of poaching young rabbits to 'eat privately
in the seclusion of a disused pigsty.' One day this cat caught a small
black rabbit, and instead of eating it, as she always did the brown
ones, brought it into the house unhurt, and laid it at the feet of her
mistress. 'She clearly recognised the black rabbit as an unusual
specimen, and apparently thought it right to show it to her mistress.'
Such was 'not the only instance this cat showed of zoological
discrimination,' for on another occasion, 'having caught another unusual
animal--viz., a stoat--she also brought this alive into the house for
the purpose of exhibiting it.'
Mr. A. Percy Smith informs me of a cat which he possesses, and which, to
test her intelligence, he used to punish whenever her kittens
misbehaved. Very soon this had the effect of causing the cat herself to
train the kittens, for whenever they misbehaved 'she swore at them and
boxed their ears, until she taught the kittens to be clean.'
Mr. Blackman, writing from the London Institution, tells me of a cat
which he has, and which without tuition began to 'beg' for food, in
imitation of a terrier in the same house whose begging gesture it must
have observed to be successful in the obtaining of tit-bits. The cat,
however, would never beg unless it was hungry;--
And no coaxing could persuade it to do so unless it
felt so inclined. The same cat also, whenever it
wanted to go out, would come into the sitting-room,
and make a peculiar noise to attract attention:
failing that mode being successful, it would pull
one's dress with its claw and then having succeeded in
attracting the desired attention, it would walk to the
street door and stop there, making the same cry until
let out.
Coming now to cases indicative of reason in cats, Mr. John Martin,
writing from St. Clement's, Oxford, informs me: 'I have a cat which a
short time ago had kittens, and from some cause or other her milk
failed. My housekeeper saw her carrying a piece of bread to them.' The
process of reasoning here is obvious.
Mr. Bidie, writing from the Government Museum of Madras to 'Nature'
(vol. xx., p. 96), relates this instance of reasoning in a cat:--
In 1877 I was absent from Madras for two months, and
left in my quarters three cats, one of which, an
English tabby, was a very gentle and affectionate
creature. During my absence the quarters were occupied
by two young gentlemen, who delighted in teasing and
frightening the cats. About a week before my return
the English cat had kittens, which she carefully
concealed behind bookshelves in the library. On the
morning of my return I saw the cat, and patted her as
usual, and then left the house for about an hour. On
returning to dress I found that the kittens were
located in a corner of my dressing-room, where
previous broods had been deposited and nursed. On
questioning the servant as to how they came there, he
at once replied, 'Sir, the old cat taking one by one
in her mouth, brought them here.' In other words, the
mother had carried them one by one in her mouth from
the library to the dressing-room, where they lay quite
exposed. I do not think I have heard of a more
remarkable instance of reasoning and affectionate
confidence in an animal, and I need hardly say that
the latter manifestation gave me great pleasure. The
train of reasoning seems to have been as follows: 'Now
that my master has returned there is no risk of the
kittens being injured by the two young savages in the
house, so I will take them out for my protector to see
and admire, and keep them in the corner in which all
my former pets have been nursed in safety.'
Dr. Bannister writes me from Chicago, of a cat belonging to his friend
the late Mr. Meek, the palæontologist, who drew my correspondent's
attention to the fact:--
He had fixed upright on his table a small
looking-glass, from which he used to draw objects
from nature, reversed on wood. The cat seeing her
image in this glass made several attempts to
investigate it, striking at it, &c. Then coming
apparently to the conclusion that there was something
between her and the other animal, she very slily and
cautiously approached it, keeping her eye on it all
the while, and struck her paw around behind the
mirror, becoming seemingly much surprised at finding
nothing there. This was done repeatedly, until she was
at last convinced that it was beyond her
comprehension, or she lost interest in the matter.
Mr. T. B. Groves communicates an almost precisely similar observation to
'Nature' (vol. xx., p. 291), of a cat which, on first seeing his own
reflection in a mirror, tried to fight it. Meeting with resistance from
the glass, the cat next ran behind the mirror. Not finding the object of
his search, he again came to the front, and while keeping his eyes
deliberately fixed on the image, felt round the edge of the glass with
one paw, whilst with his head twisted round to the front he assured
himself of the persistence of the reflection. He never afterwards
condescended to notice a mirror.
The following is communicated to me by a correspondent whose name I
cannot obtain permission to publish. I am sure, however, that it is
communicated in good faith, and the incident can scarcely be supposed to
have been due to accident. After describing the cat and the parrot in
their amiable relationship, my correspondent proceeds:--
One evening there was no one in the kitchen. Cook had
gone upstairs, and left a bowl full of dough to rise
by the fire. Shortly after, the cat rushed up after
her, mewing, and making what signs she could for her
to go down; then she jumped up and seized her apron,
and tried to drag her down. As she was in such a state
of excitement cook went, and found 'Polly' shrieking,
calling out, flapping her wings and struggling
violently, 'up to her knees' in dough, and stuck quite
fast.
No doubt if she had not been rescued she would have
sunk in the morass and been smothered.
I shall here introduce two or three cases to show the ingenious devices
to which clever cats will resort for the purpose of capturing prey.
Mr. James Hutchings writes in 'Nature' (vol. xii., p. 330) an account of
an old tom cat using a young bird, which had fallen out of its nest, as
a decoy for the old birds. The cat touched the young bird with his paw
when it ceased to flutter and cry, in order that, by thus making it
display its terror, the old cock bird, which was all the while flying
about in great consternation, might be induced to approach near enough
to be caught. Many times the cock bird did so, and the cat made numerous
attempts to catch it, but without success. All the while a kitten had to
be kept from killing the young bird. As this scene continued for a long
time--in fact, till terminated by Mr. Hutchings--and as there does not
appear to have been any opportunity for errors of observation, I think
the case worth recording.
The following case is communicated to me by Mr. James G. Stevens, of St.
Stephen, New Brunswick:--
Looking out on the garden in front of my residence, I
observed a robin alight on a small tree: it was
midwinter, the ground covered with about a foot of
_light_ snow. A cat came stealthily along, with
difficulty making her way through the snow until
within about three feet of the tree where the bird
was; the robin was sluggishly resting on a twig
distant three feet from the ground or surface of snow;
the cat could not well, owing to the softness of the
snow, venture to make a spring. She crouched down and
at first gently stirred herself, evidently with the
purpose of causing the bird to move. The first attempt
failed. She again more actively stirred herself by a
shaking motion. She again failed, when she stirred
herself vigorously again and started the bird, which
flew about fifty feet away, and alighted on a small
low bush on the _northern_ side of a _close-boarded_
fence. The cat keenly watched the flight and the
alighting of the bird; as quickly as she could cross
through the snow, she then _took a circuit of about
one hundred feet_, watching the place where the bird
was all the while, and covering her march by making
_available every bush to hide her_. When out of range
of vision of the bird she more actively made for the
fence, leaped over it, came up on the _southern_ side
of it, and jumped on it, calculating her distance so
accurately that she came within a foot of the bush
where the bird was, and at once sprung. She missed her
prey, but I thought she proved herself a cunning
hunter. If this case is worth relating you may use the
name of Judge Stevens, of St. Stephen, New Brunswick,
as a witness to the same.
Again, I quote the following case communicated to 'Nature' by Dr. Frost,
because, although it shows an almost incredible amount of far-sighted
stratagem, I cannot on the one hand see much room for mal-observation,
and on the other hand it is, as I shall show, to some extent
corroborated by an independent observation of my friend Dr. Klein, and
another correspondent:--
Our servants have been accustomed during the late
frost to throw the crumbs remaining from the
breakfast-table to the birds, and I have several times
noticed that our cat used to wait there in ambush in
the expectation of obtaining a hearty meal from one or
two of the assembled birds. Now, so far, this
circumstance in itself is not an 'example of abstract
reasoning.' But to continue. For the last few days
this practice of feeding the birds has been left off.
The cat, however, with an almost incredible amount of
forethought, was observed by myself, together with two
other members of the household, to scatter crumbs on
the grass with the obvious intention of enticing the
birds.[256]
Although this account, as I have said, borders on the incredible, I have
allowed it to pass, because up to a certain point it is, as I have also
said, corroborated by an observation communicated to me by my friend Dr.
Klein, F.R.S.
Dr. Klein satisfied himself that the cat he observed had established a
definite association between crumbs already sprinkled on the garden
walk, and sparrows coming to eat them; for as soon as the crumbs were
sprinkled on the walk, the cat used to conceal himself from the walk in
a neighbouring shrubbery, there to await in ambush the coming of the
birds. The latter, however, showed themselves more wide awake than the
cat, for there was a wall running behind the shrubbery, from the top of
which the birds could see the cat in his supposed concealment, and then
a long line of sparrows used to wait watching the cat and the crumbs at
the same time, but never venturing to fly down to the latter until the
former, wearied with waiting, went away. In this case the reasoning
observation of the cat--'crumbs attract birds, therefore I will wait
for birds when crumbs are scattered'--was as complete as in the case of
Dr. Frost's cat, but the reasoning in the latter case seems to have
proceeded a stage further--'therefore I will scatter crumbs to attract
birds.'
Now, in the face of the definite statement made by Dr. Frost, that his
cat did advance to this further stage of reasoning, I have not felt
justified in suppressing his remarkable observation. And, as lending
still further credence to the account, I may quote the corroborative
observation of another correspondent in 'Nature,' which is of value
because forming an intermediate step between the intelligence displayed
by Dr. Klein's cat and that displayed by Dr. Frost's. This correspondent
says:--
A case somewhat similar to that mentioned by Dr.
Frost, of a cat scattering crumbs, occurred here
within my own knowledge. During the recent severe
winter a friend was in the habit of throwing crumbs
outside his bedroom window. The family have a fine
black cat, which, seeing that the crumbs brought
birds, would occasionally hide herself behind some
shrubs, and when the birds came for their breakfast,
would pounce out upon them with varying success. The
crumbs had been laid out as usual one afternoon, but
left untouched, and during the night a slight fall of
snow occurred. On looking out next morning my friend
observed puss busily engaged scratching away the snow.
Curious to learn what she sought, he waited, and saw
her take the crumbs up from the cleared space and lay
them one by one after another on the snow. After doing
this she retired behind the shrubs to wait further
developments. This was repeated on two other
occasions.[257]
Taking, then, these three cases together, we have an ascending series in
the grades of intelligence from that displayed by Dr. Klein's cat, which
merely observed that crumbs attracted birds, through that of the cat
which exposed the concealed crumbs for the purpose of attracting birds,
to that of Dr. Frost's cat, which actually sprinkled the crumbs.
Therefore, although, if the last-mentioned or most remarkable case had
stood alone, I should not have felt justified in quoting it, as we find
it thus led up to by other and independent observations, I do not feel
that I should be justified in suppressing it. And, after all, regarded
as an act of reason, the sprinkling of crumbs to attract birds does not
involve ideas or inferences very much more abstruse or remote than those
which are concerned in some of the other and better corroborated
instances of the display of feline intelligence, which I shall now
proceed to state.
In the understanding of mechanical appliances, cats attain to a higher
level of intelligence than any other animals, except monkeys, and
perhaps elephants. Doubtless it is not accidental that these three kinds
of animals fall to be associated in this particular. The monkey in its
hands, the elephant in its trunk, and the cat in its agile limbs
provided with mobile claws, all possess instruments adapted to
manipulation, with which no other organs in the brute creation can
properly be compared, except the beak and toes of the parrot, where, as
we have already seen, a similar correlation with intelligence may be
traced. Probably, therefore, the higher aptitude which these animals
display in their understanding of mechanical appliances is due to the
reaction exerted upon their intelligence by these organs of
manipulation. But, be this as it may, I am quite sure that, excepting
only the monkey and elephant, the cat shows a higher intelligence of the
special kind in question than any other animal, not forgetting even the
dog. Thus, for instance, while I have only heard of one solitary case
(communicated to me by a correspondent) of a dog which, without tuition,
divined the use of a thumb-latch, so as to open a closed door by jumping
upon the handle and depressing the thumb-piece, I have received some
half-dozen instances of this display of intelligence on the part of
cats. These instances are all such precise repetitions of one another,
that I conclude the fact to be one of tolerably ordinary occurrence
among cats, while it is certainly very rare among dogs. I may add that
my own coachman once had a cat which, certainly without tuition, learnt
thus to open a door that led into the stables from a yard into which
looked some of the windows of the house. Standing at these windows when
the cat did not see me, I have many times witnessed her _modus
operandi_. Walking up to the door with a most matter-of-course kind of
air, she used to spring at the half-hoop handle just below the
thumb-latch. Holding on to the bottom of this half-hoop with one
fore-paw, she then raised the other to the thumb-piece, and while
depressing the latter, finally with her hind legs scratched and pushed
the doorposts so as to open the door. Precisely similar movements are
described by my correspondents as having been witnessed by them.
Of course in all such cases the cats must have previously observed that
the doors are opened by persons placing their hands upon the handles,
and, having observed this, the animals forthwith act by what may be
strictly termed rational imitation. But it should be observed that the
process as a whole is something more than imitative. For not only would
observation alone be scarcely enough (within any limits of thoughtful
reflection that it would be reasonable to ascribe to an animal) to
enable a cat upon the ground to distinguish that the essential part of
the process as performed by the human hand consists, not in grasping the
handle, but in depressing the latch; but the cat certainly never saw any
one, after having depressed the latch, pushing the doorposts with his
legs; and that this pushing action is due to an originally deliberate
intention of opening the door, and not to having accidentally found this
action to assist the process, is shown by one of the cases communicated
to me (by Mr. Henry A. Gaphaus); for in this case, my correspondent
says, 'the door was not a loose-fitting one by any means, and I was
surprised that by the force of one hind leg she should have been able to
push it open after unlatching it.' Hence we can only conclude that the
cats in such cases have a very definite idea as to the mechanical
properties of a door; they know that to make it open, even when
unlatched, it requires to be _pushed_--a very different thing from
trying to imitate any particular action which they may see to be
performed for the same purpose by man. The whole psychological process,
therefore, implied by the fact of a cat opening a door in this way is
really most complex. First the animal must have observed that the door
is opened by the hand grasping the handle and moving the latch. Next she
must reason, by 'the logic of feelings'--If a hand can do it, why not a
paw? Then, strongly moved by this idea, she makes the first trial. The
steps which follow have not been observed, so we cannot certainly say
whether she learns by a succession of trials that depression of the
thumb-piece constitutes the essential part of the process, or, perhaps
more probably, that her initial observations supplied her with the idea
of clicking the thumb-piece. But, however this may be, it is certain
that the pushing with the hind feet after depressing the latch must be
due to adaptive reasoning unassisted by observation; and only by the
concerted action of all her limbs in the performance of a highly complex
and most unnatural movement is her final purpose attained.
Again, several very similar cases are communicated to me of cats
spontaneously, or without tuition, learning to knock knockers and ring
bells. Of course in both cases the animals must have observed the use to
which knockers and bells are put, and when desiring a door to be opened,
employ these signals for the purpose. It betokens no small amount of
observation and reasoning in a cat to jump at a knocker with the
expectation of thereby summoning a servant to open the door--especially
as in some of the cases the jump is not a random jump at the knocker,
but a deliberate and complex action, having for its purposes the raising
and letting fall of the knocker. For instance, Mr. Belshaw, writing to
'Nature' (vol. xix., p. 659), says:--
I was sitting in one of the rooms, the first evening
there, and hearing a loud knock at the front door was
told not to heed it, as it was only this kitten asking
admittance. Not believing it, I watched for myself,
and very soon saw the kitten jump onto the door, hang
on by one leg, and put the other fore-paw right
through the knocker and rap twice.
In such cases the action closely resembles that of opening
thumb-latches, but clearly is performed with the purpose of summoning
some one else to open the door. Wonderful, however, as these cases of
summoning by knockers undoubtedly are, I think they are surpassed by
other cases in which the instrument used is the bell. For here it is not
merely that cats perfectly well understand the use of bells as calls,[258]
but I have one or two cases of cats jumping at bell-_wires_ passing from
outside into houses the doors of which the cats desired to be
opened.[259] My informants tell me that they do not know how these cats,
from any process of observation, can have surmised that pulling the wire
in an exposed part of its length would have the effect of ringing the
bell; for they can never have observed any one pulling the wires. I can
only suggest that in these cases the animals must have observed that
when the bells were rung the wires moved, and that the doors were
afterwards opened; then a process of inference must have led them to try
whether jumping at the wires would produce the same effects. But even
this, which is the simplest explanation possible, implies powers of
observation scarcely less remarkable than the process of reasoning to
which they gave rise.
As further instances corroborating the fact that both these faculties
are developed in cats to a wonderful degree, I may add the following.
Couch ('Illustrations of Instinct,' p. 196) gives a case within his own
knowledge of a cat which, in order to get at milk kept in a locked
cupboard, used to unlock the door by seating herself on an adjoining
table, and 'repeatedly patting on the bow of the key with her paw, when
with a slight pull on the door' she was able to open it; the lock was
old, and the key turned in it 'on a very slight impulse.'
As a still further instance of the high appreciation of mechanical
appliances to which cats attain, I shall quote an extract from a paper
by Mr. Otto, which will have been read at the Linnean Society before
this work is published. After describing the case of a cat opening a
thumb-latch in the same way as those already mentioned, this writer
proceeds:--
At Parara, the residence of Parker Bowman, Esq., a
full-grown cat was one day accidentally locked up in a
room without any other outlet than a small window,
moving on hinges, and kept shut by means of a swivel.
Not long afterwards the window was found open and the
cat gone. This having happened several times, it was
at last found that the cat jumped upon the
window-sill, placed her fore-paws as high as she could
reach against the side, deliberately reached with one
over to the swivel, moved it from its horizontal to a
perpendicular position, and then, leaning with her
whole weight against the window, swung it open and
escaped.
To give only one other instance of high reasoning power in this animal,
Mr. W. Brown, writing from Greenock to 'Nature' (vol. xxi., p. 397),
gives a remarkable story of a cat, the facts in which do not seem to
have admitted of mal-observation. While a paraffine lamp was being
trimmed, some of the oil fell upon the back of the cat, and was
afterwards ignited by a cinder falling upon it from the fire. The cat
with her back 'in a blaze, in an instant made for the door (which
happened to be open) and sped up the street about 100 yards,' where she
plunged into the village watering-trough, and extinguished the flame.
'The trough had eight or nine inches of water, and puss was in the habit
of seeing the fire put out with water every night.' The latter point is
important, as it shows the data of observation on which the animal
reasoned.
FOOTNOTES:
[256] _Nature_, vol. xix., p. 519.
[257] _Nature_, vol. xx., p. 197.
[258] Some of my correspondents tell me of pet or drawing-room cats
jumping on chairs and looking at bells when they want milk--this being
their sign that they want the bell pulled to call the servant who brings
the milk; and Mr. Lawson Tait tells me that one of his cats--of course
without tuition--has gone a step further, in that she places her paws
upon the bell as a still more emphatic sign that she desires it pulled.
But Dr. Creighton Browne tells me of a cat which he has that goes a step
further than this, and herself rings the bell. This is corroborative of
Archbishop Whately's anecdote. 'This cat lived many years in my mother's
family, and its feats of sagacity were witnessed by her, my sisters, and
myself. It was known, not merely once or twice, but habitually, to ring
the parlour bell whenever it wished the door to be opened. Some alarm
was excited on the first occasion that it turned bell-ringer. The family
had retired to rest, and in the middle of the night the parlour bell was
rung violently; the sleepers were startled from their repose, and
proceeded downstairs with poker and tongs, to intercept, as they
thought, the predatory movements of some burglar; but they were equally
surprised to find that the bell had been rung by pussy, who frequently
repeated the act whenever she wished to get out of the parlour.' The
cases, however, mentioned in the text are more remarkable than any of
these, which, nevertheless, all tend to lead up to them as by a series
of steps. Dogs attain to the level of asking by gesture their masters to
ring bells. One instance will be sufficient to quote. Mr. Rae says in
'Nature' (vol. xix., p. 459): 'A small English terrier belonging to a
friend has been taught to ring for the servant. To test if the dog knew
_why_ it rang the bell he was told to do so while the girl was in the
room. The little fellow looked up in the most intelligent manner at the
person giving the order (his master or mistress, I forget which), then
at the servant, and refused to obey, although the order was repeated
more than once. The servant left the room, and a few minutes afterwards
the dog rang the bell immediately on being told to do so.'
It must also be added that dogs sometimes attain to the level of
knocking knockers--though I should think this must be very rare with
these animals, as I have only met with one case of it. This, however, is
a remarkably good case, not only because it rests upon the authority of
a famous observer, but also because it is so very definite as proving an
act of reason. Dureau de la Malle had a terrier born in his house. It
had never seen a knocker in its native home, and when grown up it was
taken by its master to Paris. Getting fatigued by a walk in the streets,
the animal returned to the house, but found the door shut, and it
endeavoured vainly to attract the attention of those within by barking.
At length a visitor called, knocked at the knocker, and gained
admittance. The dog observed what had been done, and went in together
with the visitor. The same afternoon he went in and out half a dozen
times, gaining admittance on each occasion by springing at the knocker.
Lastly, Dr. W. H. Kesteven writes to 'Nature' (xx., p. 428) of a cat
which used to knock at a knocker to gain admittance, in the way already
described of so many other cats; but as showing how much more readily
cats acquire this practice than dogs, it is interesting to note that Dr.
Kesteven adds that a dog which lived in the same house ascertained that
the cat was able to gain admittance by knocking, and yet did not imitate
the action, but 'was in the habit of searching for her when he wanted to
come in, and either waiting till she was ready to knock at the door, or
inducing her to do it to please him.'
[259] Consul E. L. Layard gives in _Nature_ (xx., p. 339) a precisely
similar case of a cat habitually and without tuition ringing a bell by
pulling at an exposed wire.