CHAPTER XXX.

REARING OF KITTENS.

It may truly be said that the subject most interesting to cat fanciers

is the successful rearing of kittens, and pages might be written on

what to do and what not to do in order to bring up a family of kits in

health and strength. Experience teaches us many things, and certainly

during the number of years I have been breeding Persian kittens I have

had ample opportunity of judging what food suited the little mites

best, and which was the surest method of bringing up a wholesome

litter of kittens. I am sure that in the olden days there was less

delicacy amongst Persian kittens than at this present time.

With the advent of the first family the anxieties of the novice begin.

Perhaps a goodly sum has been risked in the purchase of a pedigree

queen, or else with much carefulness and taking thought a valuable

kitten has been reared to happy matronhood. So far well; the trouble

has been slight, but the account book shows all on the debit side.

Now, as we gaze upon the tiny blind bobbing atoms, over which the

mother croons and purrs with pride, here is the investment that has to

swell our credit column. And ignorance here spells loss.

If a large number yearly are successfully raised, a still larger

number sadly “pass out,” and might claim the baby’s plaintive epitaph:

“Since I am so quickly done for—

I wonder what I was begun for!”

Neither does the comfortable law of the “survival of the fittest” seem

to hold good here. At least, Nature and the exhibitor are at variance

in their ideas of such, for always it is our choicest, our sure and

certain champion, that slips our too eager grasp.

Here is our experimental nest of champions; they are but two days old,

and in this early stage of their existence the less they are handled

and examined and the mother interfered with, the better.

Attend to two things—_darkness_ and _fresh air_; and leave them alone

till they introduce themselves of their own accord to your notice.

Shift on to a clean nest the second day after birth. It is safer not

to do so before, as I have known a belated kitten arrive twenty-four

hours after the rest of the family, and in the case of an excitable or

inexperienced mother she will by then be more composed, and can be

coaxed out to feed while the change of bed is being made. Hay, short

and sweet, is the best bedding—much better than blankets or cushions.

Many fanciers use boxes turned on their sides and curtained. These,

while giving the necessary darkness, are not sufficiently ventilated;

the air in them cannot circulate freely, and becomes stuffy and foul,

vapours ascend, and the wood becomes unsanitary in a very short time.

Bad eyes follow as a matter of course, and the anxious, worried novice

wonders “how they can _possibly_ have taken cold when they have been

so guarded”—from fresh air!—and seals them up still more! If,

therefore, a box is used, let there be holes for ventilation, or

arrange for the covering to reach only partly over the top.

In an outside cattery or attic or room guard against too much light

and any draught, but let in the outside air by _keeping the window

open_ during the day. If winter kittens are to be reared, heat the

room to an average of 55 degrees, and have the window open, taking

precautions naturally against rain or snow beating in.

When the kittens reach the age of three weeks, they will require some

food beyond that provided by the mother, who, if nursing a large

family, is perhaps showing signs of wear. It is when the process of

weaning begins that trouble generally arises.

I am inclined to put down the growing delicacy of Persian kittens to

the injudicious feeding with solids at too early a period of their

existence. I never used to allow my kittens meat until they were about

four or five months old, and during the period of weaning from their

mothers it is most essential that all food given—such as Mellin’s,

Ridge’s and Benger’s—should be made very thinly at first, so as not in

any way to try the tender digestions of the little creatures.

[Illustration:

A HAPPY MOTHER.

]

I believe that most of the ills that kittens’ flesh is heir to,

proceed from indigestion. The tendency in fanciers is to overload the

stomach of the wee kittens, forgetting that it is not the amount of

food eaten that nourishes the tiny creatures, but the quantity they

are able to digest, and this must necessarily be small for some weeks

after they have learnt to feed themselves. Another mistake that is

made is giving milk that is too rich. In large towns we generally get

our milk watered for us, but in the country the milk is richer, and

needs mixing with warm water. It is not so important in the country as

in London and other large towns to have the milk boiled, but it is at

all times and in all places a wise precaution. In preference to

risking the town dairy milk, flavoured with boracic, and most deadly

to the systems of both kittens and babies, I advise a good brand of

Swiss milk—such as Nestlé’s—being employed, or, better still, Plasmon

powder, made to a jelly according to directions on packet, and one

teaspoonful of this jelly thinned out with hot water and sweetened. Do

not give raw meat till the teeth are fairly through and they can bite

sharply; then give it _scraped_ with a blunt knife, not cut; and

remember that _raw_ meat is three times as digestible and nourishing

as _cooked_ meat—one tiny meal of meat a day, a teaspoonful per kitten

to begin with. Do not give them fish while under three months old.

Rice is a very _indigestible_ food for kittens, especially cold; but

rice-water, strained from rice boiled to a pulp and given quite cold,

is useful in checking diarrhœa. Melox is a most useful food for

kittens of ten weeks old and upwards, soaked for an hour or two in a

little good gravy, and given crumbly (not sloppy), and a little

scraped raw meat mixed with it. For younger ones a tablespoonful of

red gravy from a cooked joint, poured over some breadcrumbs, proves an

appetising meal.

Small meals at short intervals are infinitely better than heavy meals

at long intervals, and if a young kitten is left for many hours till

half famished, it will in all probability eat too much and suffer in

consequence. From four to ten weeks six or seven meals in the

twenty-four hours are none too many. I am presuming that till that age

they will be with their mother at night, which will do away with the

necessity of providing food between 9 p.m. (when the last meal should

be given) and 8 a.m. Give always a light and _warm_ meal for the

breakfast. After ten weeks lessen to five meals, after three months

four, and give four till six months old, when they may be fed as

adults, unless one should be delicate or has been through severe

illness.

[Illustration:

MRS. BONNY’S “DAME FORTUNE.”

(_Photo: L. R. Stickells, Cranbrook._)

]

The best test of a properly thriving kitten is its weight, and 1 lb.

for each month of age is a fair average, occasionally exceeded by very

big-boned and robust kittens. For young growing kittens a teaspoonful

of lime-water added to a saucer of any liquid is very advisable, as it

strengthens the limbs and forms bone. If a kitten under a month or six

weeks old is unfortunate enough to have a severe illness, whether

epidemic or accidental, my advice is to chloroform it. At so tender an

age the constitution rarely recovers from the strain.

Although this article has no intention of encroaching upon that

treating specially of diseases, our aim and object being to rear such

healthy sturdy families of kittens that they shall never have any

diseases, yet, _en passant_, it might not be amiss to remark what a

valuable medicine for the first symptoms of distemper is Pacita, a

herbal medicine that can be obtained in both powder and pill form. The

latter is to be preferred, as, the smell being very nasty, kittens

rebel against it. Half of No. 1 size pill is sufficient for a kitten

under three months, to be given fasting in the morning an hour before

food for three mornings. It reduces fever and clears the system in a

wonderful manner.

[Illustration:

MRS. BONNY’S “DEREBIE.”

(_Photo: L. R. Stickells, Cranbrook._)

]

The question of outdoor exercise must now be discussed. I speak of

summer kittens only. Winter kittens—viz. those born from November to

February—are, I think, a mistake. Out of season, like forced green

peas at Christmas, they have not a good start in life; the damp and

darkness of those months is very deterrent upon young life. Nature’s

plan of arranging for the new lives to come chiefly in the spring when

days are lengthening and sunshine has power, is the wisest. They grow

with the days, and have the summer to romp through and grow big and

strong before the leaves fall. It is a mistaken policy—that of

_exposing to risks_ under the intention of _hardening_. We must

remember that the Persian cat is an exotic, and that the present

system of breeding for coat and show points does not tend to make the

race hardier; on the contrary, probably the constitution is more

delicate than in its native country, imported cats invariably boasting

a vigour and hardihood that our pedigree specimens sadly lack. It is

not _cold_ that injures; frost and snow can be borne by grown-up

Persians with impunity, and even enjoyment. It is the _damp_ that

kills, and upon consideration we shall see that this is largely a

question of _coat_.

Look at your English sleekly groomed puss as she comes leaping across

some dewy field in the early morning, pressing through a thick, wet

hedge. She gives herself a shake; examine her fur: not a dewdrop has

adhered, hardly are her pads damp. Now pick up your Persian gentleman

who has taken a slight hunting stroll through the same ground: his

stomach fur is _soaked_, clinging like wet linen to him; his

“knickerbockers” are disreputable, his frill clammy; and it will take

him a good hour to get himself clean and respectable once more. The

soft woolly under-coat of the Persian holds water like a sponge, where

the close short coat of the British cat shakes it off as from duck’s

feathers. This is the true secret of the delicacy of the Persian. So

in rearing kittens, let your first care be, _avoid damp_.

A sick kitten generally forgets its manners, however carefully it has

been trained to the use of the dry earth or sawdust box; it seems to

feel too bad to care how it behaves, so due allowance must be made at

the time; but in health, cleanly behaviour must be insisted upon from

the time they begin to trot about their nursery. Begin by placing a

_very_ shallow tray of nice dry _fine_ earth in one or two corners

that the kittens seem to have a predilection for; it may even be

necessary to put them in all _four_ corners for a little while to

convince some obstinate or dullard member of the family.

A cat’s confidence is harder to win than a dog’s, but once you have

gained it the animal will trust you implicitly, and will bear pain or

nasty dosing at your hands without resentment. I think kittens _should

be handled_ from early days. I do not advocate a valuable kitten being

sent up to a human nursery, to be hugged flat or carried head

downwards by the too-adoring occupants; but kittens should be

thoroughly accustomed to human society and to being picked up,

caressed, and handled. It will make their subsequent show career far

less of a terror, and greatly augment their chances of success; and in

the case of all male cats, whether for stud or neuter, it is very

convenient to train them to walk on a lead. Begin by using a light

ribbon, and _two_ kittens led together on separate leads will come

more willingly than one. The first lessons in walks might terminate at

the feeding dish, so that the kits would quickly associate this new

form of exercise with something to eat.

It sometimes happens that young kittens are too early bereft of

maternal care from some cause or other. Mr. A. Ward, of Manchester,

has invented an artificial foster-mother (_see_ page 343). This

consists of a glass vessel covered with flannel, and having

indiarubber teats. This is filled with warm milk and water, and the

kittens help themselves!

It is only of comparatively recent date that any serious attention has

been given to the successful breeding of Persian kittens.

A demand has arisen for animals that approach perfection, according to

a recognised standard of points, and it may not be unprofitable to

devote a few pages to the consideration of how these can be best

obtained.

Formerly a long-haired cat was not much thought of unless he really

deserved his name, but nowadays coat is rather at a discount on the

show bench.

Points, points, points—colour of eyes, colour of coat, shape,

expression, and what not—these are all considered first, and length

and beauty of coat are rather apt to be overlooked.

The amateur cat lover should provide himself with a female cat or

kitten of fine health and luxuriant coat, and treat it precisely like

any other “well done by” domestic pussy. Probably by the time she is

twelve months old she will have insisted on matrimony. This is worth a

little consideration and trouble, but if the choice lies between a

healthy, hardy long-haired tom at large in your own neighbourhood and

a pedigreed prisoner at a distance, I should recommend the local

monsieur.

[Illustration:

A LITTER OF EIGHT, BELONGING TO MISS SAVERY.

(_Photo: H. Warschawski, St. Leonards-on-Sea._)

]

What you want is physique and a fine appearance, and you are more

likely to get them in this way.

Many owners of Persians have been quite content to rear saleable

kittens of average merit, and trust for their show reputation to fine

animals bought from others.

To encourage breeders special prizes are offered at shows to those who

win a first prize with a cat whose mother was in the exhibitor’s

possession at the time of the kitten’s birth. They are very handsome

trophies, and have to be won four times before becoming the property

of the exhibitor.

Over against the mistaken motto of “Haphazard” we must place the

password of “Selection” if we would become successful breeders.

Selection—clever, thoughtful, painstaking selection—lies beneath all

real success. I am not denying that excellent results are obtained

occasionally by accident, but these happy flukes want following up if

any permanent good is to be effected.

Having a queen of a given colour, you should, as a rule, mate her only

with a cat of the same colouring, and be especially careful not to

cross self colours with tabbies.

Now selection, as too often understood, means just this: A male cat

makes a great sensation at a show and wins many prizes. He is the

right colour, therefore to him you will send your queen. What can be

simpler? Why this fuss about the difficulty of breeding?

But you are a novice, and know nothing of the value of the pedigree

owned by the winning monsieur. It is not so much he himself as his

inherited tendencies you have to consider, for assuredly they will

reappear in his children. An old hand will tell you, “Yes, a grand

head, but where he got it from is a miracle, with such parents”; or,

“Colour? Yes, first-rate, but he was the only one clear from sandy in

the litter.” Well, what can a bewildered novice do? Remember, you have

to try to cap each of your queen’s defects with a corresponding virtue

in her mate. If she is snipey in face, make head a chief point; if she

fails in colour, lay great stress on colour; and so on. My advice is,

do not send her to a new star who has but just arisen in the sky of

the cat world until you know a little more about your business. Mark

your catalogue at shows. Study the cats and kittens whose points

please you and who are filling the prize lists, and then notice their

sire’s name. When you find the same name repeated again and again, and

always attached to animals of consistent merit, you will not do far

wrong to choose the owner for your queen’s mate.

But after having exercised all possible care in the selection of a

male cat, we must not expect the litter of kittens to be perfection.

All breeders know that there is, as a rule, one kitten in each litter

which far surpasses its fellows in beauty.

[Illustration:

“STAR OF THE SPHERES” AND “SON OF ROY.”

BRED BY MISS E. A. CHAMBERLAYNE.

(_Photo: Russell & Sons, Baker Street._)

]

Perhaps one will possess the type of head you so covet, but the colour

is inferior. Another has colour or markings to perfection, whilst the

head is poor. Well, then, they must be mated with an eye to remedying

these defects, and a near relative possessing these strong points will

be likely to prove the most successful cross; for in-breeding—careful,

cautious, and judicious—is another secret of the successful breeder.

But one word of caution to the novice: Never be persuaded to breed

from an unhealthy animal, be his or her points what they may, and

never allow your queens to mate when thoroughly debilitated and out of

health; for this lies at the bottom of the difficulty experienced in

carrying out the next point we have to consider—_i.e._ the successful

rearing of kittens. If cat fanciers could learn this lesson, we should

hear far less of infant mortality.

For the ordinary mode of kitten rearing it is essential to have proper

outdoor quarters, and, if possible, quarters isolated from each other.

There is nothing more suitable than the portable houses so readily

obtained; but these must be on a dry foundation.

Sunshine, fresh air, and wholesome food are the essentials of a kitten

nursery. Moreover, there must never be many young things kept

together. Otherwise, some unlucky day you will find a sad-faced kitten

looking down its nose, and in two or three days more your whole tribe

will be down with distemper and your hopes for the year shattered.

I know it sounds brutal, but I cannot refrain from saying that

sentiment is the ruin of successful kitten rearing. Some tiny morsel

develops a skin trouble, has chronic diarrhœa, bad eyes or snuffles,

and we tenderly nurse it for many weary weeks and perhaps save it.

A victory? Yes, if the morsel were a gem of great value, one of the

“surprise babies” in colour or shape that now and again visit every

cattery, it may have been worth paying the cost. For pay we shall have

to, make no doubt of that. Your kitten nursery will never be quite so

healthy again, and in spite of all precautions you will very probably

carry sickness to your other stock. I would never breed from unhealthy

animals, and I would at once destroy a very sick kitten of tender age.

Lethal boxes rob the act of inhumanity, and you will probably have one

little tombstone to erect instead of a dozen!

One great feature of success is the boarding-out system. Any woman

really fond of cats who will take a kitten into the bosom of her

family and rear it is a perfect boon. Of course, she must be well

paid, but if she is successful you can afford to be liberal.

In these cases it is better only to put out your choice specimens that

you wish to attain some age before sale or to keep for stock. The

others should be sold off at about eight to ten weeks old at moderate

prices.

[Illustration:

THE “FOSTER-MOTHER.”

(_Photo: H. Glacier, Longsight._)

]

Far more of the trouble with kittens comes from defective digestion

than from any other cause, and I suspect we frequently overload their

little interiors. When nature makes the small cat turn away from its

dinner, we fall into a panic and pour beef essence down its throat.

Probably a short fast was all that was required, and it is a mistake

to force food until some hours have elapsed. In fact, healthy

surroundings and common-sense treatment are the main secrets of

successful kitten rearing.

[Illustration:

THE “FOSTER-MOTHER” IN ACTION.

(_Photo: H. Glacier, Longsight._)

]

[Illustration:

“ARRIVED SAFELY.”

(_Photo: E. Landor, Ealing._)

]

The book of the cat · 第 30 / 33 章