HOUSING OF CATS.
The proper housing of valuable stock is the first essential subject
to be studied by the beginner in the cat fancy, and one requiring
both careful thought and attention. For I do not hesitate to say
that, of all the domestic animals, the cat is the most difficult to
keep healthy and happy in the unnatural condition of total or
partial confinement. Belonging to the feræ, its original and savage
nature still shows glimpses, not wholly tamed, in its independence
of character and its roving habits; while yet its civilised side
shows the keenest appreciation of the comforts to be found in the
home life. A house cat that enjoys its freedom to go out as it
pleases, to climb the garden walls, and anon to lie in purring
contentment before the kitchen hearth, is a creature ailing little.
It is the pedigreed pets, in their luxurious prisons, that too often
fall a prey to disease. To establish a cattery, therefore, that
shall be a pleasure and a pride to the owner, and not a source of
worry and grief over perpetual illness amongst the inmates, it is
necessary in the very first inception to study the chief needs of
cat nature.
Let us consider these in order. How our typical healthy cattery may
be best arranged. It must be dry—was ever a cat yet seen of choice
sitting in the wet? It must have ample space, both of houses and
runs, and inducements for exercise—a well-branched dead tree sunk in
the gravelled run is good, besides divers posts, shelves, and
benches. Let the aspect be bright, with lots of sunshine. A cat is a
devotee of the sun—it is the life of young growing things, and the
greatest destroyer of disease germs; and it is very easy by
coverings or the growth of climbing plants to provide temporary
shade during the height of summer. For this last, nothing is better
than that most useful and least fastidious king of climbers, the
Virginian creeper, as it bestows its leafy shade just when required,
and harbours no damp, as the growth of thick, tall trees is apt to
do.
[Illustration:
A MUSICAL PARTY.
(_Photo: E. Landor, Ealing._)
]
Lastly, let the outlook of the cattery be cheerful. Do not select a
spot so far from the house life that the attendant who feeds and
cleans is practically the only person the cats see in the
twenty-four hours. A cat loves to observe, preferably from some
secure high perch, whence it may see all that passes—to exchange
greetings with the dogs, the gardener, the maids, the tradesmen
coming to the door, and thus fill its imprisoned hours with
interest. If you disregard this, and put your cats out of sight in
some back yard, they will mope badly, and also grow very stupid.
These principal requirements being borne in mind, individual fancy
of building and arrangement may follow. Every breeder of experience
has his own ideas of best design, according to means and
circumstance. If a cat fancier is fortunate enough to be able to
disregard expense, he can indulge in brick houses with every
appliance for comfort and elegance of construction. For others, who
can supply a working plan, an intelligent local carpenter (when
found) can do much. Occasionally, also, it is possible to convert a
portion of existing stabling to very efficient uses. But I must
advise the beginner, as regards this last suggestion, to be careful.
If the stabling is modern, and possesses the main requisites I have
already spoken about (of dryness, and space, and cheerful light),
then all is, and will be, well. But if, as is often the case, the
stable of temptation is old, perhaps unused for some years, is dark,
with more than a suspicion of damp, and a very certain habitat of
rats, then our fancier is emphatically warned against making any
trial of it, short of pulling down and rebuilding. Let him rest
assured, it would in the end mean the loss of money, time, care,
and, most likely, breeding stock too, and certain ill-health among
the poor inmates. I know a case in point where a cat fancier thus
utilised a stable. A converted portion of old stabling that looked
most desirable, and kept scrupulously clean, was used for a number
of young kittens. Very soon a peculiar and most violent form of skin
disease appeared amongst them, at first as mere scurfy patches, but
swiftly assuming the form of contagious fever, which spread with
frightful rapidity, infecting every cat with whom they came in
contact. Not until after many deaths, and the most cruel sufferings
of those who struggled through the disease, was it at last
discovered to be acute blood poisoning, produced by the exhalation
of sewer gas from an old sewer running underneath the floors. Rats
were probably responsible, either by gnawing through the pipes, or
coming up into the cattery, themselves stricken with the foul
disease.
The site of the cattery selected, the preparation of the ground may
be advisable, certainly on all clay soils. To ensure perfect
dryness, the top soil should be removed a foot or so and filled in
with brick rubble or builders’ rubbish. On this foundation, cement
concrete or asphalt may be laid down. Personally, for runs and
floors, I prefer the cement; it is easier to keep clean—a bucket of
water can swill it from end to end, while it dries much faster than
the asphalt. Asphalt in outside runs is apt to soften in the summer
sun, and depress into holes, and within the houses the smell of the
tar remains strong for some months. The cost of the two is much
about the same, but in very damp situations the asphalt is
preferable, as it prevents all ground-damp rising through.
Now to plan out a medium-size cattery that shall be simple in
construction and not ruinous to the modest beginner, let us suppose
we have at our disposal a fair length of brick wall—say 60 to 70
feet in length—facing south, on slightly sloping ground. Our first
proceeding will be to level and render damp-proof by a foot of
rubble, as heretofore suggested, a strip 11 feet wide and about 45
feet along the wall, and to surface this strip with cement or
asphalt. Upon this, and against the wall, we will erect our houses,
a long wooden shed with lean-to roof, divided into three main
divisions by matchboarding partitions, and with a smaller house at
either end, as shown in plan.
A, the sleeping-room; B, a playroom for queens and kittens; and C,
the third apartment for kittening, or cats it is desirable to
isolate awhile. The smaller houses at the outside ends reserved for
stud cats. D, doors from one apartment to another of wood. The
outside woodwork is of 1-inch feather-edged matchboarding,
well-seasoned deal, a roof of wood, felted and tarred, being
preferable to the use of corrugated iron, which is very hot in
summer and very cold in winter; an annual dressing of sand and tar
keeps the felt watertight for many years. Allow good wide eaves, and
have gutter pipes all round. Inside, line the walls with wall felt,
and limewash; or an inner lining of 1-inch matchboarding, allowing a
two-inch space to be packed with sawdust, keeps the house very warm
and dry.
For the brick back wall, ¼-inch matchboarding should be sufficient
as lining. The dimensions of the sleeping-room, A, are 12 feet long
by 11 feet wide, and a wire frame partition with door subdivides
this again into two equal parts. Against the back wall, at a height
of about 20 inches from the floor, runs a broad shelf 4 feet wide,
having inch mesh wire netting frontage, half to open on hinges, and
movable wooden partitions sliding in a slot; these for the
sleeping-pens, each 4 feet deep by 3 feet wide, two on either side
the wire frame partition, or convertible into one 4 feet by 6 by
removal of sliding wooden division. It will be warmer for the
occupants if these pens are roofed in at a height of 3 feet. Cover
the bench with oilcloth before putting up the divisions. This can be
washed over daily if necessary, and will dry in a few moments, thus
avoiding the dangers of scrubbing wood in damp weather. As nothing
offensive can soak in, a pure atmosphere is preserved, and risk of
infection is greatly minimised.
A comfortable sleeping box or basket should be provided for each
pen, filled in winter with plenty of sweet hay, and in summer with
sheets of newspaper or brown paper. A cat loves to repose on paper,
and it has the advantage of being cheaply renewable and easily burnt
after a day or two’s use. Never use old packing straw for bedding.
It is frequently full of infectious germs, and many skin complaints
have been traced to its use. Neither are cushions, blankets, old
bits of carpet, matting, etc., to be recommended. They are apt to
become damp in prolonged wet weather, and retain both dirt and
odour. A sanitary tin to hold dry earth or sawdust should be placed
in each cat house, emptied and washed out every morning by the
attendant, when the floors are also swept out or washed over.
A fair-sized window, to open, must be in the front, and a door, the
upper half of which might also be of glass, to open out into a
gravel run. Outside wooden shutters for cold nights are a great help
in keeping the house warm, and should be provided.
Having arranged our first room, the playing room, B, next must come
under consideration. This being the central division, the felt
lining could here be dispensed with, and instead the boards can
either be plainly stained and varnished—which is also easy to keep
perfectly clean—or Willesden damp-proof paper might be nailed over
the walls. This paper, made at the Willesden Company’s works,
Willesden Junction, N.W., is made in several good colours for
interior lining, and a house so hung looks very comfortable, and
shows to advantage such mural decorations as show prize cards,
photos of winners, etc. The frontage of this room is to be entirely
glazed, in small panes set in a wooden framework, with a 6-inch high
weather board at floor to protect from draughts, the glass protected
on the inside by wire netting fastened over it. A window here to
open outwards with a bolt, and fairly high up, to ensure fresh air
in rainy weather without the wet and damp driving in on a level with
the cats; a half-glass door also to run, but no outside shutters
will be here needed, the cats not occupying this room at night.
Cover the asphalt floor with linoleum or oilcloth, and put up some
shelves 15 inches wide, fairly high up, but within leaping distance,
against the walls; a movable bench too, to place the cats upon for
brushing and attending to them. Old chairs that can be spared from
the house might end their service here; or if the luxury of a plain
wicker chair could be permitted, and furnished with one or two
cushions in washable slip covers, it would be as pleasant for the
owner when making her visits as for the pussies themselves. A ball
for the kittens, a reel hanging from a string, will stimulate
healthy romps, even amongst the staid grown-up cats, when weary of
indoor dozing.
Room C. C is primarily intended for the interesting occasions when
new little prize-winners are expected. This is subdivided by wire as
in sleeping-room, but the partition three feet from back wall should
be of wood, to ensure privacy to the anxious mother, and to temper
the light; oilcloth on floor.
For the littering nests themselves I describe, and advise my friends
to make trial of, the following plan. Have a sort of shallow wooden
box, or tray with sides, made about 4 feet 6 inches long by 24
inches high and 4 inch sides. This is stained, varnished, and
mounted on wooden feet at the four corners about two inches high; a
good bed of hay is put in it, the box is put in a quiet corner away
from the light, and a truss of new straw placed upright at one end
of the box, leaning against the angle of the wall. A little of the
straw at the bottom may be pulled out to suggest the idea of a hole
to the cat; but as a rule she takes to the notion brilliantly, and
will set to work to dig out a nest for herself with the greatest
zest. In this the kittens are born, safe in a cosy nest at the end
of a tunnel of straw. There is ample ventilation; they are protected
from all draughts, so that doors may be left open to the fresh air
with impunity; and they are in the dark, as kittens naturally should
be till they walk out into the daylight of their own desire to
explore the world. Then the rest of the tray forms a glorious
playground for the first week or two, when one adventurous mite
finds out he can climb up the shallow sides, and tumble out on a
large strange world of floor and trot after mamma. A well-known
fancier tells me she has not had one litter with weak or bad eyes
since she adopted the straw truss plan.
[Illustration:
THE IDEAL CATTERY.
]
One of these trays might be placed each side of the wooden
partition, and if necessary to shut a nervous or surly cat up with
her family, one might be enclosed in a wire frontage with door, as
the sleeping-pens were arranged. Let there be a good large window in
this room, as the kittens, when running about, will want all the
sunshine and air possible. This run should be of asphalt, for
dryness and warmth, with plenty of play places arranged in it. An
old barrel with the bottom knocked out affords great games, also the
tree I have before spoken of; a tree-stump or two, or a heap of dry
brushwood stacked in a corner, will supply those climbing and hiding
holes kittens so greatly enjoy, and afford protection from winds.
A grass run and a gravelled one are designed in the plan, each
having access to the other, and will allow the cats ample exercising
ground according to weather. An oval flower-bed in the centre of the
grass plot, planted with some evergreen bushes, is a good idea. It
affords shelter, and the cats can dig in the dry earth. For the
benches in the gravel run, an old outhouse door, painted and mounted
on stout legs, makes a very good one, which the cats love to sit
upon.
The stud houses are simple: a wired-in space of 12 feet by 11 feet
contains a house with lean-to roof 4 feet by 8 feet long, fitted
with sleeping bench and box, wired windows, door for attendant, and
small trapdoor for cat. _En passant_, all doors should be fitted
with good locks, and locked up after feeding at night is done. The
stud run is gravelled, but a border of grass might be left on two
sides—grass is such a necessity for cats in confinement, and they
prefer to select it growing for themselves. The design here
suggested is capable of either modification or extension. The plan
can be enlarged to any extent. For instance, if desired, an
attendant’s cottage could be built at one end instead of the stud
house, and comprise a special kitchen, and also an upper room,
fitted with convenient pens for a hospital for the sick members—a
very necessary adjunct to the cattery, as a sick cat should be at
once removed from its healthy companions and kept in a place quite
apart. More stud houses could be arranged at an angle on one side of
the chief runs, or, if only a very few cats are intended to be kept,
one of the divisions could be dispensed with, perhaps, and the
dimensions of the other two made smaller. But whatever your
ambitions may be, great or small, when you are about it have the
work well done.
The heating of catteries is a rather vexed question, many famous
breeders affirming that stock raised without it are healthier and
harder; others maintaining that a certain amount of heat is a
necessity for producing a good coat. A very experienced breeder once
told me the heaviest-coated kittens she ever bred were reared over
some hot-water pipes, in a temperature of 70°! With adult cats
having partial freedom and allowed to come into the house in severe
weather, and with stud cats, I consider the no-heat plan decidedly
the best; but I do not think it possible to rear young stock during
the colder part of the year in an outdoor cattery without artificial
heat. It is the damp of the English winter which proves so fatal,
and damp cannot be kept out of the very best constructed houses
except by the admission of dry heat.
Kittens that are cold will not play, and if you see them huddled
together on a cold day looking listless and uneasy, instead of
romping, be sure it is fire heat they need.
A thermometer should hang in each house, and the heat be carefully
regulated by that, a minimum of 48° and a maximum of 55° being
suggested. In houses where a flue is practicable, a stove of the
Tortoise pattern is to be recommended, but it needs a high guard
around it. For a long range of brick-built houses, an outside flue
and boiler, with hot-water pipes running the length of the cattery,
would be found of most service, as it maintains an even and medium
warmth throughout, keeps the building perfectly dry, and can be
stoked with less trouble. In small wooden houses, very excellent
results are given by the use of an oil stove with hot-water
apparatus, such as are supplied for small greenhouses. The lamp will
usually burn twenty-four hours without attention, is un-get-at-able
by the cats, who can neither singe their tails nor knock it over
during the wildest gambols, and if kept clean and looked to with
care will not cause the slightest odour. A quart of paraffin in one
of these oil stoves will burn twenty-four hours, and heat a building
12 feet by 10 feet to 50°. Now, in concluding this little discourse
upon catteries, the final word of advice is always to remember the
importance of _absolute cleanliness_. There should never be the
least offensive smell in the cattery, and if such be noticed on
entering the houses in the morning, discover the cause and remedy it
at once. And do not rely solely upon disinfectants to do this. Too
frequently this is but overcoming a bad smell by a stronger, the
evil remaining. A good and non-injurious disinfectant should always
be used in the water for the daily cleansing of pans and floors,
etc. Camphaleyne or Salubrene are both safe and effective, but
disinfectants that contain creosote in any quantity, or carbolic, I
do not approve of, except in cases of illness of an infectious type,
when stronger measures are obligatory.
No dirty food dishes, no unchanged water, no soil of any kind,
should ever be left about on flooring or bedding. Let your cattery
be kept as scrupulously clean and sweet as a hospital, then will
your cats thrive and kittens be healthy and sturdy.
[Illustration:
A LITTER BOX.
]
Do not elect to start a cattery unless you yourself intend to bestow
both time and trouble upon it. In this, as in every other occupation
or hobby, the one golden rule is, “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to
do, do it with all thy might.”
APPLIANCES.
In the preceding section on the cattery proper, I have not spoken of
the very useful variety of portable houses which are now made a
speciality of many firms, considering them more or less as
accessories to the well-appointed cattery. But in small town
gardens, where space is valuable and it is not convenient to build a
large permanent structure, it is quite possible to succeed extremely
well when two or three cats only are kept by using these portable
houses. They also have the advantage of being removable and a
“tenant’s fixture” in the event of leaving one’s house.
[Illustration:
A USEFUL CAT HOUSE.
]
A very good house is one built by Messrs. Boulton and Paul, of
Norwich (_see_ illustration). It is a very pretty and well designed
structure, and would be exceedingly ornamental in a sheltered corner
of the garden. In putting up, however, it should be stood upon brick
piers to raise it at least four inches from the ground, or the
wooden flooring would soon show damp. Cats kept in these small
houses, it must be understood, should have their liberty at least a
portion of every fine and dry day, the runs being wholly inadequate
for a cat to be shut in continuously without further scope for
exercise.
Another illustration is a handy portable hutch, intended to be used
chiefly in a house or room, although it is also convenient for
penning young kittens out of doors on a sunny day, the wire run
preventing their straying away. It consists of a sleeping box and
small wire run hooked on, and can be made at the cost of a few
shillings.
[Illustration:
A PORTABLE HUTCH.
]
The sleeping box is 24 inches long by 17 inches wide and 22 inches
high, is raised three inches from floor by a false bottom, and has a
large door at back opening with a brass catch. In front, two
side-pieces reduce the entry to 12 inches. A handle screwed on the
top of the box is convenient for carrying. The run is 3 feet 6
inches by 24 inches, made in four sections, two sides, top and end
piece, all fitted and hooked together with 1-inch mesh wire netting
that it may be easily taken apart for carrying or storing away. It
makes a useful sleeping-pen, too, for young toms that are inclined
to quarrel together, and so have to be shut up separately at night.
All the woodwork is stained and varnished, and a square of oilcloth
laid on the floor of the sleeping box.
The next appliance to be considered is a somewhat gruesome adjunct
to the cattery, and belongs to the darker side of our hobby. In
spite of every care, illness and death must enter now and again,
when we are fain to retire worsted from the conflict with disease,
and the wisest and kindest thing to do is to put our pet to sleep.
The illustration given on the opposite page depicts a lethal box, as
used at the Royal London Institution for Lost and Starving Cats at
Camden Town, and is capable of holding twelve animals at a time.
Mr. Ward, the well-known feline specialist of Manchester, has
patented a lethal box of more moderate dimensions. Mr. Ward, not
yet having an illustration of it, kindly writes me the description
as follows:—“The box inside is 15 inches by 12 inches by 12
inches. A sheet of glass is inserted in the lid, so that the
operator may watch the process. The vapour—coal gas passed through
chloroform—enters through a tube at end. Two minutes is sufficient
time.”
Fanciers, I think, will agree that this simple peace-giving box is
not among the least of Mr. Ward’s kindly ministrations to the cats
he loves so well. Few amongst us can bear to see unmoved the
terrible last pains of a pet who in its days of health delighted us
with its beauty.
Feeding utensils we turn to next. For them nothing is more
satisfactory than the unbreakable enamelled ware in white or
blue—except, perhaps, for the water pans, for which it is scarcely
weighty enough, and it not infrequently happens that a gay and
frolicsome company of kittens will knock against them, sending them
spinning, and the water is spilt upon the floor.
The circular, heavy glazed earthenware dishes, spittoon-shaped, and
generally inscribed “Pussy,” are excellent, and cannot be
overturned.
Besides the plates and saucers for feeding, let the cats have also a
saucepan of their own, a deep stewpan-shaped one of blue enamel,
large enough to cook a sheep’s head with biscuits. Cook will be far
less prone to grumble at the necessary cooking for the cats—I speak
here of a small cattery, when no attendant is kept—if her saucepans
are not pressed into the service.
But see that all are kept scrupulously clean, nothing “left over” in
the saucepan to become sour or tainted in hot weather; and after
each meal is cooked, the saucepan should be boiled out with soda and
scoured clean.
_Earth tins._ A great mistake made in these necessary items is
having them too deep. I have seen an old zinc footbath supplied to
two months old kittens with quite six inches of sawdust in it, and
the owner wondered why she could not teach her kittens to be cleanly
in their habits!
A 4 inch deep tray is quite deep enough, and this should not be
filled more than two thirds full, or the cat rakes so much earth out
on the floor. Neither do they require to be very large, as their
weight when filled with soil makes them very cumbersome to move, and
they get the more quickly knocked out of shape. The best size is
about 17 inches by 14 inches and 4 inches deep, made in stout
galvanised iron, with a rim round the edge, and these might be
painted some light colour with Aspinall’s enamel paint. (I advocate
“light paint” as any dirt stains are seen at once.) They will then
last free from rust, and can be washed out every morning. Two or
three tins of smaller size—say, 12 inches by 8 inches by 21
inches—are suggested for kittens, or for placing in small pens in an
emergency. Baking tins answer this purpose.
After washing, it is well to stand these trays in the air to
sweeten, as if they smell disagreeable the cats will not use them.
[Illustration:
LETHAL CHAMBER, ROYAL LONDON INSTITUTION AND HOME FOR LOST AND
STARVING CATS.
(_Photo: Cassell & Company, Limited._)
]
Messrs. Whiteley supply these zinc tins, or they can be made by any
local ironmonger to dimensions given.
_Hot-water appliances._ These are very necessary in the cattery, and
should by no means be forgotten.
Many a sick cat’s life has been saved, and the critical corner in an
illness turned, by the timely comfort and strength bestowed by the
hot-water bottle or bag, or even a brick made hot in the oven and
wrapped up. In the event of winter litters, too, a hot-water bag
should be always in readiness, in case it is advisable to remove the
first-born kittens from the mother for a few hours. Heat will
restore a seemingly dead kitten, as I have said before. The outside
dwellers also, how they appreciate on a bitter winter’s night the
hot bottle or wrapped up hot brick to keep them cosy!
I know a luxurious stud cat who has a hot-water tin made to fit his
sleeping box, which is filled by the maid every cold night and slid
beneath his hay bed. Assuredly, there is no greater safeguard
against winter’s chills and changes of temperature than to provide
for your pets sleeping warmly and comfortably at night. The
hot-bottle plan has many advantages over the heating of the sleeping
houses by stove or lamp during the night. It is better for the
animals themselves, as the air is not exhausted, and they are not so
prone to take a chill going from heated air to the outside rawness
of a winter’s morning. It is much safer, and it is also much more
economical.
[Illustration:
SPRATT’S TRAVELLING BASKET.
]
Personally I prefer the indiarubber bag to the old-fashioned stone
bottle, and in the smaller sizes (which are quite large enough) are
not much more expensive than the latter. If not filled too full, and
wrapped in a washable cover—flannelette is very good—it can be laid
flat under the hay, and the cat will remain upon it all night. In
the case of a sick cat the cover should always be of flannel, to
avoid any chill as the bag grows colder.
Then, in our list of appliances, proper travelling baskets must come
under consideration. I say “proper” advisedly, for how heterogeneous
is the collection of hampers, boxes, baskets—I had almost added
bundles—one sees brought in by the officials during the receiving
hours before a big show! Every variety of package, very many of
which are exactly what they ought not to be. Some unnecessarily
elaborate, polished wooden cases with brass fittings—handsome and
durable no doubt, but far too cumbersome, and by their very weight
inflicting much jar on the occupant when moved about; while others
are a disgrace to anyone pretending to care about a cat or even to
know what a cat is, many deserving to be straightway brought under
the notice of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.
I have seen big heavy cats jammed into margarine hampers, a thin
wicker receptacle whose sides slope inwards like a flower-pot, where
the animal must have suffered agonies of cramp in a veritable
chamber of “little ease.” Others are sent weary distances in
shallow, rough grocery boxes with a few holes bored for ventilation,
subject to be thrown about in transit, first on one side then on the
other, the lid perchance nailed on, giving thereby much extra
trouble to the penning officials. Little wonder if the cat arrives
bruised, shaken, frightened nearly to death, and very probably wild
and savage.
Now, as evil is wrought by want of thought (and common sense) as
well as want of heart, I have thought it well to comment on these
very wrong and stupid ways of sending our cats on their journeys
before advising better arrangements.
Here are two illustrations of excellent travelling baskets, which
fulfil pretty nearly all requirements for cats travelling singly.
The first is made by Messrs. Spratt, and has an inner skeleton lid,
which is much to be recommended when sending a vicious or very timid
cat that is likely to make a bolt on the basket being opened.
The second, beehive shaped, is designed by Mrs. Paul Hardy, of
Chobham. It is of strong white wicker, the lid fastening with a rim
of about two inches deep over the body of the basket, apertures in
the rim allowing the wicker loops of the fastenings to project; when
the cane stick is thrust through these the basket is absolutely
secure—not a paw can get out.
[Illustration:
A USEFUL CAT BASKET.
]
[Illustration:
“A GANG OF POACHERS”—KITTENS BELONGING TO MISS ALICE DELL.
(_Photo: E. Landor, Ealing._)
]
This beehive shape has several advantages. The cat can stand up and
stretch itself at ease, when tired of lying down. The handle being
at the apex, it is carried—even by porters—without the cat being
tilted off its legs; whilst the dome top prevents any other package
being piled upon it—a disadvantage the flat-typed hamper always has.
I line my baskets outside with brown paper or oil baize up to the
rim, and inside with curtain serge, leaving the lid free for
ventilation. Then, with plenty of hay at the bottom of the basket,
the cat will travel from one end of England to the other in comfort
and safety, with no danger of taking cold even if left about
draughty platforms or in parcel offices. This basket is made by
Messrs. Bull, of Guildford, at a very moderate cost, and lasts for
years.
These baskets are, of course, intended for one cat only, or a pair
of kittens. A really safe and capable travelling arrangement for a
litter with the mother has yet, I think, to be devised. I have seen
none I think good. The double compartment hamper I much dislike. The
handles are perforce at each end, necessitating two carriers—who
never do it—so the hamper is dragged by the porter or official with
one end tilted (the other cat being nearly upside down), is leant up
against other luggage, or dropped flat with a bang. With young
kittens inside this leads to fatalities.
A label for the travelling basket seems an insignificant item to
mention, but an efficient one is as important as that proverbial
nail for whose absence the horse and the kingdom were lost.
I have just made the acquaintance of a first-rate label, devised and
sent out by a Mr. Foalstone, at sixpence per dozen, from the
Aerefair Engineering Works, near Ruabon. It is a stout linen label,
printed “Valuable Live Cat” in big block letters; below is “Urgent”
in red—a good idea, red being more likely to attract the casual eye
of the railway official. Spaces are left below for line of travel,
_viâ_, etc., and date and time of despatch. It is reversible, so the
sender can fill up with the return address if necessary. I always
prefer to fasten the label down at both ends, flat to the basket: it
is less likely to be torn away than when left hanging loose from one
eyelet.
It is by due attention to the details that cat fanciers can to some
extent mitigate the dangers and risks that must necessarily attend
the transit of live stock by rail.
[Illustration:
WAKING BEAUTIES.
(_Photo: Mrs. S. F. Clarke._)
]