BLACKIE RUNS AWAY
“That cat is a good jumper,” thought Blackie when her new friend had
gone. “He went over that fence easily. I wonder if I could do it?”
Blackie tried, but she could not jump all the way to the top of the
fence as Speckle had done.
“I suppose it must be because he ran away once or twice,” thought
Blackie, as she again went back to rest in the shade, after having
tried two or three times to leap to the top of the fence in one jump.
“It must be that running away makes one a good jumper. Yes, I certainly
must run away, or walk away, as Speckle called it. I wonder what would
happen to me? I suppose Mabel and Arthur would miss me, and I would
miss them. But I need not run very far away, and, and I can run back
when I want to.”
Blackie did not know much about things outside of her own nice home,
you see. Running away never made a cat a good jumper that I ever heard
of, though some cats, who have no homes, learn to jump fences easily
because, I suppose, they are chased by dogs or boys so often that they
just have to know how to make big jumps.
“Yes, I certainly must try what running away will teach me,” thought
Blackie as she went in the house where, near the stove in the kitchen,
set her saucer of milk. “Then I will have things to tell Speckle when I
come back. I must ask him more about it the next time I see him.”
That afternoon, just before Arthur and Mabel came home from school,
Blackie saw Speckle out on the fence again.
“Wait a minute, Speckle!” called the black cat. “I want to ask you
about running away,” and she hurried out in the yard.
“Oh, I’m not going to run away for some time,” said the other cat.
“I’ve just moved here and I want to see what sort of a place it is
before I run away. Perhaps I shan’t run away at all. Anyhow I shall not
for a long time. I never run away until I get tired of a place, and
then I don’t often stay away more than a day or so.”
“Oh, I wasn’t going to ask you to run away,” said Blackie. “But I want
to know if running away makes a cat a good fence-jumper?”
Speckle thought for a few seconds and then said, slowly:
“Well, yes, I suppose it does. I know the first time I ran away I
could not jump very well. And then a dog chased me. I ran into a yard,
and in front of me was a fence. The only chance to get out of the
dog’s way was by jumping the fence. I had never jumped so high a fence
before, but I did that time, and the dog could not get me, so I got
away.”
“My gracious!” exclaimed Blackie. “Something happened to you that time!
Was that an adventure?”
“Yes,” answered Speckle, thinking a moment, “I suppose you could call
that an adventure. But I had many more after that.”
“Do dogs always chase you when you run away?” Blackie wanted to know.
“Oh, no, not always,” answered the gray cat. “But that is one of the
things that may happen when you run away.”
“I shan’t like that part of it,” spoke Blackie. “There is a dog in the
house on the other side of ours, and the family that lived in the house
into which your folks just moved also kept one. He used to chase me
until I scratched his nose with my sharp claws one day, and after that
he let me alone. I was sorry to scratch him, but it was the only thing
to do.”
“Yes, of course,” agreed Speckle. “It is a good thing we have sharp
claws. They are especially for scratching dogs that chase us.”
“I wonder if there is any other way of scaring a dog besides scratching
him?” asked Blackie.
“Perhaps there may be,” said Speckle.
“It would be nice if there was. I may learn how to do that if I run
away to look for adventures.”
“Oh, so you are going to run away; are you, Blackie?”
“Well, I’m thinking of it. Will you come?”
“Not right away――at least I think I will not,” said the other cat.
“Still you might call over the fence to me when you go, and perhaps
I’ll come along. Hello, who are they?” asked Speckle quickly as he saw
a boy and girl coming in the yard.
“Oh, that’s Arthur and Mabel, my little master and mistress,” explained
Blackie, but Speckle did not stop to listen. With a jump he was on top
of the fence.
“Excuse me!” called the gray cat to Blackie, “but that boy looks just
like one who once tied a tin can to my tail!”
“The idea!” meowed Blackie. “Arthur is a good boy, and loves cats. He’d
never do anything like that to me, nor to you or any other animal.”
“You never can tell,” said Speckle. “Safety first, as I hear they are
teaching the children in school. I’ll just stay on my side of the
fence until I see what kind of a boy he is,” and though Blackie kept
saying that Arthur was a good boy, and would not plague cats, Speckle
would not stay.
Of course Mabel and her brother did not understand what their cat said
to the other one, for they did not know animal language, though Blackie
and other cats know what boys and girls say to them, or a great deal of
it, I think.
“Did you see that strange cat?” asked Mabel of her brother.
“Yes, I guess it belongs to the folks next door,” spoke Arthur. “Now I
am going to teach Blackie to stand on her hind legs.”
Arthur picked Blackie up, and rubbed her under the ears. Cats like to
be rubbed under the ears, and they will purr if you do it to them. And
when a cat purrs it shows it is happy.
Just why cats like to be rubbed, or tickled, under the ears I do not
know, any more than I know why a pig likes to be scratched on his back.
I only know that this is so. A hoptoad likes to be scratched on his
back, also. Many a time I have gone quietly up to a toad in the grass,
and, with a little twig, have scratched his back. And Mr. Toad will sit
there quietly, and will puff himself out like a little balloon, because
he is so pleased to have his back scratched. But you must do it very
gently. And poll parrots like to have their heads rubbed. But don’t ask
me why, for I don’t know.
Anyhow Arthur rubbed Blackie under her ears, and the black cat liked it
and purred in the boy’s arms.
“And now for your trick, Blackie,” said Arthur.
It is not easy to teach a cat to stand on her hind legs, as Arthur very
soon found out. Cats do not learn tricks as easily as dogs do, though
I have seen performing cats on the stage of a theater. They climbed
ladders, walked a tight rope, and did many other little tricks.
Blackie did not know exactly what Arthur wanted her to do. The little
boy put the black cat in a corner, so she could lean her back against
the sides of the room, and not fall over. Then he lifted her front feet
off the floor so that she was resting on her hind ones.
“Now stand up that way!” Arthur said, speaking kindly.
Blackie did it, for a few seconds, and then she got down on all four
feet as she was in the habit of standing.
“No! Not that!” said Arthur, lifting her up again. “Stand on your hind
legs, Blackie.”
But Blackie did not do it very well.
[Illustration: “Now jump through my hands, Blackie!” called Mabel.]
“Let me try,” said Mabel, who was watching her brother. “She will jump
through my hands, and perhaps she will stand up for me.”
“I’ll try once more,” said Arthur, “and then you may have a turn,
Mabel.”
But neither Arthur nor his sister could make Blackie stand up on her
hind legs. Blackie just did not want to do it, or perhaps she could not.
“Maybe when I come back, after having run away, I’ll do it for them,”
thought the black cat, as she rubbed up against Mabel’s legs.
“Now jump through my hands, Blackie!” called Mabel, and she made a loop
of her arms in front of Blackie. This trick the black cat knew very
well.
“If she would only do the standing on her hind legs trick as well as
she does yours she would be a fine cat,” Arthur said.
“Blackie is a nice cat anyhow, and I love her,” spoke Mabel, cuddling
the cat in her arms.
That night, when the children were studying their lessons, Blackie lay
on a soft cushion at their feet, purring happily. And, all the while,
the black cat was thinking about running away.
“I suppose Mabel and Arthur will feel badly at first,” thought Blackie,
“but I won’t be away very long, at least not the first time. I think
I’ll run off to-morrow.”
The next day came, and after breakfast, when Arthur and Mabel had gone
to school, Blackie went out in the yard. She had made up her mind to
run away, and she wanted to see if Speckle might not like to go along.
Blackie did not have to pack up any clothes, or take anything to eat
with her, when she started to run away. Cats can’t do those things.
The only clothes they need is their coat of fur, and that is always
with them. I have seen dogs with little blankets on, and even a sort of
overcoat, but cats are different and do not wear them.
And Blackie could not take with her anything to eat. She thought she
would have no trouble in picking up what she wanted as she went along.
“I may even stop in a house some day, and get milk,” the black cat said
to herself.
Out in the yard she went, close to the fence.
“Meow!” called Blackie to Speckle. “Come on out; I want to speak to
you.”
“What is it?” asked the gray cat, sticking his head up over the fence.
“I’m going to run away,” answered Blackie. “Don’t you want to come
along?”
“My goodness! Run away!” exclaimed Speckle. “So you have made up your
mind, have you?”
“Yes, I’m going. Will you come?”
“Hum! No, I think not,” Speckle said slowly. “I don’t believe I’ll run
away to-day. You see I have hardly gotten to know all the cats around
here yet. I’ll wait a while. But don’t let me keep you from running if
you really want to go.”
“Yes, I do want to go,” Blackie said. “Perhaps when I come back I may
be able to jump a fence as well as you, and I may do the standing on my
hind legs trick that Arthur tried to teach me.”
“Perhaps,” said Speckle. “Well, good luck to you!”
“Thank you,” answered Blackie. Then she looked toward the house. No one
was watching her. Blackie went slowly down the front walk to the street.
“I don’t need to run at first,” she thought. “I’ll begin to run when I
get out of sight of the house. The children can’t see me, for they are
at school, and I am glad of it, as they might cry if they saw me going.
But I’ll soon be back, only I can’t tell them so.”
Blackie went slowly to the front gate. She went out in the street. Then
she went slowly down the sidewalk, and when she was out of sight of her
house she began to run.
“Now,” said Blackie to herself, “at last I am really running away!”