Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
The Domestic Cat
By Gordon Stables
Published by George Routledge and Sons, Ludgate, London.
This edition dated 1876.
The Domestic Cat, by Gordon Stables.
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THE DOMESTIC CAT, BY GORDON STABLES.
CHAPTER ONE.
CLASSIFICATION: ITS BASIS.
In the feline world you find no such diversity, of form, shape,
disposition, coat, size, etc, as you do in the canine. Dogs differ from
each other in both the size and conformation of the skeleton, and in
many other important points, almost as much as if they belonged to
entirely different species. Mark, for instance, how unlike the bulldog
is to the greyhound, or the Scotch toy-terrier to the English mastiff;
yet, from the toy-terrier upwards to the giant Saint Bernard, they are
all _dogs_, every one of them. So is the jackal, so is the fox and the
wolf. The domesticated dog himself, indeed, is the best judge as to
whether any given animal belongs to his own species or not. I have
taken dogs to different zoological gardens, and have always found that
they were ready enough to hob-nob with either jackal or fox, if the
latter were only decently civil; but they will turn away with
indifference, or even abhorrence, from a wild goat or sloth. But among
the various breeds of cats there exists no such characteristic
differences, so that in proposing a classification one almost hesitates
to use the word "breed" at all, and feels inclined to search about for
another and better term. If I were not under a vow not to let my
imagination run riot in these papers, but to glide gently over the
surface of things, rather than be erudite, philosophical, theoretical,
or speculative, I should feel sorely tempted to pause here for a moment,
and ask myself the question--Why are there so many distinct breeds of
the domesticated dog, and, properly speaking, only one of the more
humble cat? Did the former all spring from the same original stock, or
are certain breeds, such as the staghound, etc, more directly descended
from the wolf, the collie, Pomeranian, etc, from the fox after his kind,
and other breeds from animals now entirely extinct in the wild state?
And once upon a time, as the fairy books say, did flocks of wolves,
foxes, wild mastiffs, and all dogs run at large in these islands,
clubbing together in warlike and predatory bands, each after his kind,
much in the same way that the Scottish Highlanders used to do two or
three hundred years ago? Animals of the dog kind are a step or two more
advanced in civilisation, if I may be allowed to use the term, than
cats; and hence, as intelligence can appreciate intelligence, and always
seeks to rise to a higher level, more breeds, or a larger number of
species, of the former than of the latter have forsaken their wild or
natural condition to attach themselves to man. May not the time come,
in the distant future, when a larger variety of feline animals shall
become fashionable--when domesticated tigers, tame lions, or pet ocelots
shall be the rage? If so, that will indeed be the millennium for cats.
Just fancy how becoming it would be to meet the lovely and accomplished
Miss De Dear out walking, and leading a beautiful leopard by a slight
silver chain, or Lady Bluesock in her phaeton, with a tame ocelot beside
John on the dickey! A lady beside a lion on the lawn would, I think,
make a prettier picture than one by the side of a peacock, and a tame
Bengalese tiger would be a pet worthy to crouch at the foot of a throne.
To be sure, little bits of mistakes would occur at times; instead of
the pussy of the period bolting away with the canary, nothing less would
satisfy the pet than a nice fat baby, and then those extraordinary
people the cat--exterminators would be louder in their denunciations
than ever.
If we dissect the cat, we will find that the skeleton of one breed of
pussy would pretty nearly pass for that of another; we find the same
shape and almost the same size of bones, the same arrangement of teeth
as regards their levelness, the same number of teeth, and the same
formation of jawbone. Clothe that skeleton with muscle, and still you
can hardly tell the breed of the cat, for scarcely will you be able to
find a muscle in the one breed that has not its fellow in all, a little
difference perhaps in the size and development of one or two, but even
this more the result of accident and use than a distinction real and
natural.
I feel as I write that I am sailing as close to a wind as possible; I am
luffing all my ship will steer; were I to keep her away a single point,
I should drift down into the pleasant gulf-stream of comparative
anatomy, and thence away and away to the broad enchanted ocean of
speculative theory. And I confess, too, I wouldn't mind a cruise or two
in those latitudes, did space and time admit of it.
Now, I do not mean to say that there is really no difference in shape
and form between the different breeds of the domestic cat, but rather
that this difference is so minute, compared to that which exists between
dogs, that the term "breeds" seems almost a misnomer as applied to cats.
It is only when you see pussy arrayed in all the wealth and beauty of
her lovely fur, that you can see any real distinction between her and
another.
In regard to the origin of the domestic cat, naturalists have squabbled
and fought for centuries, and the best thing possible, I think, is for
every man steadfastly to retain his own opinion, then everybody is sure
to be right. For myself, I really cannot see that it would either
assist us in breeding better cats, or render us a bit more humane in our
treatment of the pretty animal, to be assured that she was first
imported into this country from Egypt or Persia in the year one thousand
and ever so much before Christ, or that the father of all the cats was a
Scottish wild cat, captured and tamed by some old Highland witch-wife a
thousand years before the birth of Noah's grandfather. What matters it
to us whether the pussy that purrs on our footstool is a polecat bred
bigger, or a Polar bear bred less? There she is,--
The rank is but the guinea stamp,
And a cat's a cat for a' that.
But, and if, you are fond of pedigree, why then surely it ought to
satisfy you to know that, ages before your ancestors or mine could
distinguish between a B and a bull, pussy was the pet of Persian
princes, the idol of many a harem, and the playmate of many a juvenile
Pharaoh. What classification, then, are we to make of cats? We search
around us in vain for something to guide us; then, fairly on our
beam-ends, are fain to clutch at the only solution to the question, and
fall back upon coat and colour, with some few distinctive points of
difference in the size and shape of the skull and body. Colour or
markings, then, and quality of coat, are the guiding distinctions
between one breed of cat and another; and to these we add, as
auxiliaries, size and shape.
_Colour_.--Whether we understand it or not, there, undoubtedly, is
nothing in this world left to chance alone, and nothing, I sincerely
believe, is done by Nature without a purpose. The same merciful
Providence that clothes the lambs with wool, the reason for which we can
understand, paints the rose's petal, the pigeon's breast, or even the
robin's egg, for reasons which to us are inscrutable, or only to be
vaguely guessed at. We can tell the "why" and the "wherefore" of the
rainbow's evanescent hues, but who shall investigate the laws that
determine the fixed colours of the animal and vegetable creation? Who
shall tell us why the grass is green, the rose is red, that bullfinch on
the pear-tree so glorious in his gaudiness, and that sparrow so humble
in his coat of brown?
If we ask the Christian philosopher, he will tell us that the colours in
animated nature are traced by the finger of God, who always paints the
coat or skin of an animal with that tint or hue, which shall tend most
to the propagation and preservation of its species. That He clothes the
hare and rabbit in a suit of humble brown, that they may be less easily
seen by the eye of the sportsman, or their natural enemies, the polecat,
weasel, white owl, or golden-headed eagle. That birds--who flit about
all summer in coats so gay and jackets so gaudy, that even a hawk may
mistake them for bouquets of flowers, and think them not worth eating--
as soon as the breeding season is over, and the leaves and flowers fade
and fall, are presented by nature with warmer but more homely suits of
apparel, more akin in colour to the leafless hedgerows, or the brown of
the rustling beech leaves, among which they seek shelter from the wintry
blast. If you go farther you may fare worse. No one in the world can
be a greater admirer than I of the genius of Tyndall, Darwin, or Huxley,
but I must confess they get a little, just a _leetle_, "mixed" at times;
and I doubt if Darwin himself, or any other sublunarian whatever,
understands his (Darwin's) theory of colour. He says, for instance--I
can't use the exact words, but can give his meaning in my own--that the
wild rabbit or the hare was not painted by the finger of nature the
colour we find them with any pre-defined idea of protecting the animal
against its enemies; but that in the struggle for life that has been
going on for aeons, considering the conditions of its surroundings, it
was only the grey rabbit that had the power of continuing in existence,
escaping its enemies by aid of its dusky coat. Darwin thinks, indeed,
that religionists put the cart before the horse, to use a homely phrase.
I confess that I myself prefer the good old theory of design--of a God
of design, and a prescient Providence. I believe the testimony of the
rocks, I believe to a great extent in evolution--it is a grand theory,
and one which gives the Creator an immensity of glory--but I cannot let
any one rob me of the belief that beauty and colour are not all chance.
Yonder is a hornet, just alighted at the foot of the old oak-tree where
I am writing, so uncomfortably near my nose, indeed, that I can't help
wishing he had kept to his nest for another month; but the same April
sunshine that lured me out of doors lured the hornet, and there it
stands, all a-quiver with delight, on a budding acorn, looking every
moment as if it would part amidships. "Do you think, Mrs Hornet, O
thou tigress of bees, if your lovely body, with its bars of gold, had
been of any other colour, that, under the peculiar conditions in which
your ancestors lived, you would, ages ago, have ceased to exist; that
ants, or other `crawling ferlies,' who detest the colour of turmeric,
would, in spite of your ugly sting, have devoured you and yours?"
Yonder, again, is a beautiful chaffinch; he was very glad to come to my
lawn-window every day, during all the weary winter, to beg a crumb of
bread. He forgets that now, or thinks perhaps that I do not know him in
his spring suit of clothes, and golden-braided coat and vest. But I do,
and I still believe--simple though the belief may be--that the same
Being, who gave life and motion to that little beetle which is now
making its way to the highest pinnacle of my note-book, as proud as a
boy with a new kite, to try its wings for the first time, tipped that
ungrateful finch's feathers with crimson, white, and gold, in order to
make him more attractive to his little dowdy thing of a wife, who has
been so busy all the morning building her nest on the silver birch, and
trying to find lichens to match the colour of the tree. For Mrs Finch
is a nervous, timid little body, and had no thoughts of marrying at all,
and indeed would have preferred to remain single, and would have so
remained, had she not been a female; but being a female, how could she
resist that splendid uniform?
I go into the garden and bend me over the crocus beds--white crocuses,
orange crocuses, and blue, all smiling in the sunshine of spring. Each
is a little family in itself, and they would like to know each other too
so very much, for they have ever so many love tales to breathe into each
other's ears. But they are all fast by one end and cannot move.
Whatever shall they do, and what will become of the next generation of
crocuses? I can hear them whispering their tales of love to the passing
wind, and so can you if you are a lover of Nature; but the wind is too
busy, or too light, or too something or another, and cannot pause to
listen. So the little things are all in despair, when past comes a bee.
Now bees, and butterflies too, for all they have got so many eyes, are
rather short-sighted, but even a bee cannot help seeing that gorgeous
display of orange, white, and blue, so he pops at once into the bosom of
a blue crocus, and is made as welcome as the flowers in May.
"Oh! you dear old bee," says the crocus, "you're just come in time; have
something to eat first. I have a nice little store of honey for you;
and then you shall bear a message to my lady-love--the pretty blue belle
crocus mind, not the white. I wouldn't have a race of variegated
children for the world."
"All right," says the bee, and away he flies with the message of love to
the blue belle crocus, and thus the loves of the crocuses are cemented.
They tell the old, old story by proxy, because they can't do it as you
or I do, reader, eye to eye and lip to lip.
For colour has its uses, and nothing that exists was made in vain,
although some are selfish enough to believe that all the colour and
beauty they see around them, during a ramble in the country, was made
but to please the eye of man.
Colour I believe to be connected in some way with the mystery of heat
and life. We all know that certain colours will dispel or retain heat;
black is more warm, for instance, than white. There may be, then, a
_scale_ of colours as it were, each colour differing in the amount of
heat-retaining power; and, it may be that, having reference to this
scale, the colours on an animal's coat, are apportioned to it in the way
which shall best conduce to its health, comfort, and happiness.
The colour of any animal is an important consideration in determining
its breed, and this is especially the case among cats, where indeed it
forms the basis of our classification. Colour is often the key to the
character of the cat--to its temper, whether savage or good-natured; to
its qualities as a good hunter or the reverse; and to its power of
endurance, its eyesight, and its hearing.
_Size_.--Cats of different breeds--I use the word for want of a better--
are generally of different sizes, and the skeleton is, as a rule, larger
in some breeds than in others. The male ought to be larger than the
female.
_Form_.--The difference in form is principally observable in the shape
and rotundity of skull, the length and shape of the nasal bones and jaw,
and the length of the tail and its form at the point. The ears also
vary a good deal in length in the different breeds, and also in breadth,
and in "sit" or position.
_Pelage, or Coat_.--The coat is of two different kinds, the long and the
short. In the former, the longer and softer and silkier the better, and
in the latter the length of the hairs, their closeness and glossiness,
are to be taken into consideration. You can generally tell by one
glance at the animal's coat how she is fed, how she is treated and
housed, and the condition of her health.
Having got so far, we will next bring pussy herself on the stage, and
see how far these remarks apply to her, according to her breed and
species.
CHAPTER TWO.
BREEDS AND CLASSES.
In future chapters I will give the habits and characteristics of the
domestic cat in general, with some specialities of a few of the
different kinds in particular. The "tricks and manners" of one cat,
however, will be found to correspond pretty closely with those of any
other.
But before going farther on with this chapter, I wish to make a plea in
pussy's favour. I myself have studied cat life, off and on, for twenty
years, so I suppose it will be admitted I am no mean authority on the
subject. During that time I have come to certain conclusions, which in
some cases run contrary to the opinions generally conceived of those
animals--contrary, at any rate, to the belief current some years ago,
before pussy was thought worthy to hold a show of her own. Towards this
ocean of contrary opinions I have been wafted, not by the wind of my own
sails alone, but aided and supported by many hundreds of anecdotes of
domestic pussy's daily life, habits, likes and dislikes. These
anecdotes have been supplied to me from trustworthy people, in every
position of life--from the poverty-stricken old maid with her one feline
favourite; from the honest working-man with his fireside pet and
children's playmate; from farmers, solicitors, doctors, and parsons;
from baronets' ladies; and, in more than one instance, from the
daughters of peers of the realm, allied to royalty itself. These
anecdotes have, in almost every case, been substantially authenticated,
and _always_ discarded wherever, in any case, they were open to doubt.
From these anecdotes and essays, and from my own experience as well, I
have arrived at the following conclusions--and be it remembered I speak
of cats that are properly fed and housed, and have been taught habits of
cleanliness when kittens:--
1. That cats are extremely sagacious.
2 That cats are cleanly and regular in their habits.
3. That cats are fond of children.
4. That cats are excellent mothers, and will nurse the young of any
small animal on the loss of their own.
5. That cats are fond of roaming abroad.
6. That cats are brave to a fault.
7. That cats are fond of other animals as playmates.
8. That cats are easily taught tricks.
9. That cats are excellent hunters.
10. That cats are good fishers, and can swim on occasion.
11. That cats are very tenacious of life.
12. That cats are fond of home.
13. That cats are _fonder far of master or mistress_.
14. That cats are _not_, as a rule, _thieves, but the reverse_.
15. That long-headed, sharp-nosed cats are the best mousers.
These are not texts, but deductions.
All that is known for certain of the origin of the domestic cat may be
expressed in three letters, _n i l_--nil. And, after all, I cannot see
that it matters very much, for if the theory of Darwin be correct, that
everything living sprang originally from the primordial cell, then cats
or dogs, or human beings, we all had the same origin. But, again,
according to Darwin, the cat is an older animal than man in the world's
history; and if this be so, how silly of us to bother our heads in
trying to find out who first domesticated the cat, when in all
probability _it was the cat who first domesticated man_. But, avaunt!
all learned discourse on the subject; perish all discursive lore. I
have studied the matter over and over again, and read about it in
languages dead and living, till my head ached, and my heart was sick;
and still, for the life of me, I cannot make out that there are any more
than two distinct _species_ of domestic cats in existence. There are,
first, the European or Western cat, a short-haired animal; and secondly,
the Asiatic or Eastern cat--called also Persian or Angora, according to
the difference in the texture of the coat, it being exceedingly fine,
soft, and satiny in the Angora, and not so much so in the Persian--a
long-haired cat. All the others, such as Assyrian, Abyssinian, the
Maltese, Russian, Chinese, Italian, French, Turkish, etc, are either
inter-breeds between the two, or lineal descendants of the one or the
other, altered and modified by climate and mode of life.
Taking everything into consideration, I am inclined to favour the belief
held by some, that our own fireside cat was first domesticated from our
mountain wild cat. I mentioned, this to a naturalist of some repute,
with whom I was dining only a few days ago.
"_What_?" he roared, trying to get across the table, in order to jump
down my throat. "_You_ ought to know, sir, that all animals increase,
instead of degenerating in size, by being transplanted to domestic
life."
I didn't contradict the man in his own house; but indeed, reader, the
rule, if rule it be, admits of numerous exceptions. It holds good among
horses, and I suppose cattle of all kinds; it even holds good if we go
down the scale of organic life, and apply it to fruit and flowers; but
how about the wilder animals, and our forest trees? Take the latter
first--will the acorns of a garden-grown oak-tree, or the cone of a
transplanted Scotch pine, produce such noble specimens as those that
toss their giant arms in the forest or on mountain-side? Or will a
menagerie-bred lion, or tiger--feed them ever so well--ever reach the
noble proportions of those animals who in freedom tread the African
desert, or roam uncaged and untrammelled through the jungles of Eastern
India? What prison-born elephant ever reached in height to the
shoulders even, of the gigantic bulls that my poor friend, Gordon
Cumming, used to slay? Do eagles, owls, the wilder hawks, alligators,
or anacondas do anything else but degenerate in captivity? But even
admitting, hypothetically, that the rule would hold good as regards
cats, there isn't such a very great difference in the size of the tame
and wild cats after all. I do not think that all the wild cats ever I
saw in Scotland or elsewhere, would average over ten to twelve pounds;
and twelve pounds is no unusual weight for our domestic cheety. Another
thing that has often struck me is this: the farther north you go in
Scotland, and the nearer to the abode of the wild cat, the greater is
the resemblance in head and tail, and often in colour, of the tame cat
to the wild. And, mark you, the domestic is often known to inter-breed
with the wild cat, and the offspring can be tamed and reared. This is
considered nothing unusual in the Highlands.
CHAPTER THREE.
BREEDS AND CLASSES. THE TORTOISESHELL.
The classification I propose of the domestic cat is an exceedingly
simple one, as I think all classifications ought to be; it will, I
trust, however, be found quite sufficient, and a useful one. We have
first, then, the two and only two distinct breeds mentioned above,
viz:--One. The European Cat. Two. The Asiatic.
From these two alone, if you get them of different colours, you can very
easily manufacture all the varieties and various-coloured pussies you
are ever likely to meet with, either on the show-benches or in domestic
life.
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ONE. The European, short-haired, or Western Cats.
These I divide into five primary classes, namely--1, _Tortoiseshell_; 2,
_Black_; 3, _White_; 4, _Blue_ or _Slate-colour_; and 5, the _Tabbies_.
The _Tortoiseshell_ I subdivide into secondary classes: 1, the pure
Tortoiseshell; and 2, the Tortoiseshell-and-white.
The _Black_ is subdivided likewise into two: 1, pure Black; and 2,
Black-and-white.
The _White_ has no subdivision, but is bred in with any or all the other
classes.
The _Blue_ or _Slate-coloured Cat_. These are subdivided into two: 1,
the pure Blue; and 2, the Blue-and-white.
_Tabbies_ are easily subdivided into four classes, viz:--1, the Red
Tabby; 2, the Brown Tabby; 3, the Blue or Silver Tabby; and 4, the
Spotted Tabby.
There are other odd cats, such as the Manx or tailless cat, the hybrid,
the six-clawed cat, and some curiously-coloured animals, which I shall
mention in another place, for these have no right to have classes of
their own, any more than black-and-tan Newfoundlands, or kittens with
eight legs.
I shall take these in their order of rotation.
1. _The Tortoiseshell Cat_.--This might also be called the
black-and-tan cat. If you want to get a good idea of the colour this
cat is, or ought to be, take a keek through a lady's tortoiseshell
back-hair comb. That is about it; but you never see such perfection in
pussy's coat.
For many a long year it was almost universally believed that there never
was any such thing as a tortoiseshell male or Tom cat, or ever could be;
and many an anxious search has many an old maid had over her newly-born
litter of kits, to see if she would be fortunate enough to find the
much-to-be-desired anomaly. For, bear in mind, a belief used to be
pretty current that 300 pounds--or was it 500 pounds?--would be paid
over some counter, by some fool or fools unknown, to anyone who should
be able to put the possibility of the existence of a tortoiseshell Tom
beyond dispute--by producing one. I saw an advertisement the other day
in _The Live Stock Journal_, offering for sale a tortoiseshell Tom, at
the low price of 100 pounds! I hope, if only for poor Tom's sake, that
somebody with more money than brains bought it--for the cat anyone paid
100 pounds for would, I should think, be certain of good milk and
generous treatment.
I knew a poor old woman in Skye, and this old woman's pussy was as
pussies love to be. And lo! one night the old woman, in the silence of
night, dreamed a dream. She thought that the cat came to her bedside,
and said to her, "Arise, mistress, come and see." That she followed
pussy at once. That pussy led her to the barn. That there she found,
cuddled together in a heap upon an old sack, no less than five
tortoiseshell Toms. She dreamt besides that she sold the lot for 1,000
pounds each, and bought a carriage and four, right off the reel, and set
up for a lady of fashion on the spot. Anxiously did the old woman watch
for her cattie's accouchement, but much to her disappointment they all
had white about them. Next time that pussy was in the same way, her
mistress had an old tortoiseshell comb nailed up above its bed. Even
this didn't do, so--for by this time the ancient dame had tortoiseshell
Tom on the brain--she set out for Portree, a distance of fully sixteen
miles, where she managed to procure a live tortoise as a playmate for
her pet. Pussy never took much to the tortoise; all she did was to sit
and watch it, and whenever it protruded its scaly head, the cat smacked
it in again. This might have been the reason why her kittens had all
white about them the third time. The old woman didn't despair, however;
she took to praying, and prayed in English, and prayed in Gaelic, and
she told me seriously that she never doubted but that her prayers would
one day be answered--_if_, she added, _it was for her good_. I didn't
doubt it either, but Tom never came ashore as long as I was in the
island, neither was the old creature's snuff-box ever empty.
I have but little fancy for this breed myself. They are usually
sour-tempered, unfriendly little things to all save those who own and
love them. They are, moreover, not very prepossessing. I speak of the
cat as _I_ have found it, and I doubt not there are many exceptions.
_Merits_.--They are excellent and patient mousers, and the _best_ of
hunters. They are likewise good mothers. They are as game as a bull
and terrier--in fact they seem to fear nothing on four legs; and when
they do take off the gloves to fight, I pity the animal they tackle, for
what the tortoiseshell lacks in weight, she makes up for amply in
courage. They are very wise and sagacious, and faithful to the death to
those who own them.
_Points_.--1. _Size_: You don't look for a very large cat of the pure
tortoiseshell breed, nor a very pretty one. The larger the better to a
certain extent. I have known a small-sized tortoiseshell cat follow the
rats even into their own burrows, again and again, until she had
exterminated them. 2. _Head_: The head is small and rather bullety, the
ears moderately large and nicely cocked, and the eyes small, and the
darker the better. 3. _Colour and markings_: The colour is as near
tortoiseshell as possible, and the markings must not only be deep and
pretty, but very distinct in the centre, although blending insensibly
where they meet, and artistically arranged. You mustn't expect to find
the colour or markings very nicely arranged on the male tortoiseshell.
No white is allowed on this breed of cat. Tortoiseshell Tom _is_
tortoiseshell Tom, and prefers to be judged alone and on his own merits;
for, as a rule, his right there is none to dispute. 4. _Pelage_ or
_Coat_: Hair moderately short, but _very_ fine, glossy, and silken.
N.B.--Knock off from five to eight points for _cinder-holes_. I now
give the points in a tabular form, with their full value. Not,
remember, that as a rule I go in for judging by points; still, a table
of this sort has its value, as one can see just at a glance what is
looked for in each breed, and what isn't:--
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Points of the Tortoiseshell Cat.
1. Size, 5.
2. Head, 10.
3. Colour and markings, 25.
4. Pelage, 10.
Total, 50.
The next pussy which demands a few passing remarks is _The
Tortoiseshell-and-white_. This is often a very beautiful cat, more
especially when young, as, when old, they sometimes degenerate into very
lazy habits, especially if they have a large amount of white about them.
They are pretty, and they seem to know it, taking great delight in
keeping the white portions of their fur as pure as snow. I knew a cat
something of this breed, who was nearly all white, excepting a beautiful
tortoiseshell patch on the upper part of one thigh. She was
unexceptionably cleanly, and the frantic efforts she used to make to
wash off that spot of black-and-amber were ridiculous to behold. She
would sit for hours admiring herself in the glass, and occasionally
dipping her paw in her saucer of milk, until she spied that unhappy
spot; to that she would at once devote a good half-hour, but finding no
appreciable difference in it, she would start away in high dudgeon,
swishing her tail about, like a lion in love. That spot was the only
barrier to pussy's bliss. _Moral_: There's no such thing as perfect
happiness here below--even to a cat.
CHAPTER FOUR.
THE BLACK CAT.
Next on the list of classification comes the _Black Cat_, subdivided
into--1, the Pure Black; and 2, the Black-and-white.
1. _The Pure Black_.--This is one of my pet breeds. The pure black cat
is such a noble, gentlemanly fellow, and if well-bred and trained--and
he is capable of a very large amount of training--he is one of the best
and most useful cats you can have in the house. There is no
namby-pambiness about black Tom, and no squeamishness either. You can
take him or tire of him, just as you please; it is all one to Tom.
There is a certain independence about his every movement, and an
assumption of dignity, as he saunters about the house, gazes at the fire
of a winter's evening, or rolls himself in the sunniest spot of the
garden in summer, that are both amusing and delightful. Black Tom will
give you a paw, but you may take it or leave it, just as suits you; and
if you annoy him too much, he will very quickly cast his gloves and make
you laugh with the wrong side of your mouth, as the saying is. And it
is quite astonishing, too, what a beautiful deep and cleanly-cut wound--
I speak feelingly, as a surgeon--Tom can make on the fleshy portion of
your hand, or down the side of your nose. For black Tom, and all the
race of black cats, seem to have made up their minds ages ago not to
stand any nonsense from man or beast.
But you mustn't run away with the idea that black Tom is a pugnacious
animal, or fond of fighting for fighting's sake. No, Tom is never
aggressive; he stands a good deal before he is thoroughly roused, and,
to tell the truth, I have more than once seen a tortoiseshell thrash a
black cat double its size. But if there is a lady cat in the play, the
affections of a queen to be gained, or if black Tom has made up his mind
to carry war into the heart of a rival's camp, doesn't he go at it with
a will! If the other cat will not surrender, ten to one all you'll find
of that cat in the morning will be the front teeth, the wind of the
battle having blown all the fluff away, while, if you cast your eyes
upwards, you will see black Tom on the top of the wall making love to
his Dinah, and looking as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.
Black Tom is generally most exemplary in the matter of cleanliness,
personal or otherwise--there you have him again. And he is as proud as
Lucifer--for he is quite well aware that he _is_ good-looking. If he
were a man, he is just the sort of fellow who would wear a well-fitting
coat, spotless linen, and well-fitting boots and gloves, and part his
hair in the centre without appearing a cad. You will seldom see
cinder-holes in black Tom; if you do, you may lay your honour on it,
that the animal is either aged and infirm, or suffering from some
internal disorder.
The black cat might be called the Newfoundland of the feline race, not
only in colour, but in nearly all his ways. He is not the pussy,
however, I like to see made a pet of by children, for two reasons--
first, he is too fine an animal to be crumpled and spoiled; and,
secondly, because, like a good many Newfoundlands, he is liable at times
to be just a little uncertain in temper.
Although he cannot save life, like his prototype, still black Tom makes
the best of black guards, and will protect his master or mistress, or
their property. One or two that I happen to think of now, keep a watch
on their master's wares just as a dog would. One belonging to Mr
Taylor, of Cumministon, "clooked" a little boy in the very act of
stealing a piece of butter, and held him, growling fiercely the while,
until his master came. The same cat would keep the packet of groceries
ordered by a customer, until the money was paid, and he was told it was
all right. The cunning and wiliness of the black cat is sometimes
highly amusing. I have known a cat of this breed feign death to escape
a thrashing; that is, when being thrashed, he pretended that one of the
blows had suddenly killed him, and would lie to all appearance stark and
stiff on the floor for several minutes; but if you watched him narrowly
you would presently see just a line of his cute brown eye, and as soon
as the coast was clear, Tom would come to life again, and be off like a
shot.
Black cats are sometimes thieves. I know the reader would put it in
more forcible language, but don't you expect for a single moment that I
will say more against my pets than the exigencies of truth compel me to,
so there! I say they are at times just a _leetle_ addicted to
appropriating what they have but small legal right to. But there is
this to be said in their favour--when they are thieves _they are swells
at it_. I have a black cat in my eye at this very moment, and if, my
_dear_ lady, you are at all fond of that sort of thing, it would, simply
do your heart good to watch that pussy stalking steak. He is such an
honest-looking cat, you see, and from the easy way he sits in the
doorway opposite the butcher's, with his half-shut eyes and his dreamy
air, you would feel convinced that the house was his home, that all the
adjoining property belonged to him, and he had a vote in Parliament and
a seat on the municipal bench. But bide a wee till Blocks turns round
to serve a customer, when pop! fuss!! honest Tom is round the corner
with a pound of beef in his mouth, before you could say "Muslin!" Oh!
it's charming, I assure you, but rather rough on Blocks.
I must confess, too, that, at times, there is about a black Tom cat a
look which you can only designate as Satanical--Mephistophelean, then,
if you object to the other word--and I have no doubt it is this look of
devil-beauty in Tom which has often led him to be suspected of being
either an imp of darkness or possessed of one. A witch, you know, is
generally supposed to have as a companion a familiar spirit in the shape
of a black cat. Superstitions connected with the black cat are still
common in some parts of the country and among sailors. We had a black
Tom in the _Penguin_ which led us many a pretty dance. He was treated
as a fiend, poor fellow, and behaved as such; and the captain was as
much afraid of him as anybody else, and never failed to let go the
life-buoy and lower a boat when Tom missed his footing and fell
overboard, which the cat had a happy knack of doing periodically. Tom
was missed, though, one morning, and seen again no more. He had
doubtless fallen into the sea in the darkness of the middle watch.
This cat had a strange method of fishing, which is worthy of notice.
You are, I suppose, aware that flying fish are caught by exposing a
light on deck, which they always vault towards. Black Tom's eyes had
the same effect. He would sit on the bulwarks and glare into the sea
till a fish flew towards or over him, then he nabbed it nimbly. Just
before we came to the Cape, for the last time in that commission, I
heard two blue-jackets conversing about this black Tom.
"Look, see!" one was saying, "I think he were a devil, nothin' more and
nothin' less; and I'll bet you five bob he were a devil."
"Done," said the other sailor.
Three days after, both men were "planked" for coming off drunk. They
had been on shore drinking their bet beforehand. Simple souls, they
both came to me after punishment, to get my decision as to who should
pay. Their doctor, they thought, knew everything. But very sadly were
they put out, when I told them the bet could never be satisfactorily
decided _in this world_.
"Ah! doctor," said one, waggishly, "it's a jolly good thing we drank the
bet beforehand."
Black Tom's queen is usually a very lively lady, and up to any amount of
fun and mischief.
_Merits_.--For house-hunting they are the _best_ cats you can have.
They are very beautiful and graceful; and, indeed, a well-bred,
well-trained black Tom is a veritable prince of the feline race. The
finest cat of this sort I ever saw was at Glasgow Show, "Le Diable" to
name. He _was_ a beauty. What attitudes he did! What grace in every
movement! and such a colour and coat and eye! I forget now who owned
him, but I remember I gave him first prize after only one glance at the
others. Black cats are not so easily seen at night, and their hearing
is extremely keen; so, likewise, is their eyesight. As a rule, they
kill rats and mice more for sport than anything else, and are fonder of
tackling larger game. In the field, however, their colour is against
them, and makes them a good mark for the keeper's gun. I prefer seeing
black Tom in the parlour, or on a hosier's counter, or coiled up in a
draper's window.
_Points_.--1. _Size_: You want them large--as large an possible, and
with great grace of motion. 2. _Head_: The head is medium-sized, and
not too bullety; a sharp nose, however, is an abomination in a black
cat. The ears must be rather longish, and shapely, and well-feathered
internally, and set _straight_ on. 3. _Eyes_: A brown eye is best, next
best is hazel, which in turn is better than green, but green is better
than yellow. 4. _Colour_: All black; not even a toe must be white, nor
_one hair of the whiskers_. 5. _Pelage_: A beautiful, soft, though not
too fine, fur, and inclining rather to length than otherwise, and as
sheeny as a boatman beetle.
Points of the black cat.
Size, 15.
Head, 5.
Eyes, 5.
Colour, 15.
Pelage, 10.
Total, 50.
CHAPTER FIVE.
THE BLACK-AND-WHITE CAT AND THE PURE WHITE.
I have been asked to give a few hints as to the best and most useful
classification for show purposes, and may as well do so here. For a
large show, the classes can hardly be better arranged than they are in
the Crystal Palace catalogue, or that of the Edinburgh or Glasgow Shows.
For smaller shows I beg to suggest the following:--
ONE. Long-haired cats, any colour, male or female.
TWO. Short-haired black and black-and-white, and white.
THREE. Short-haired tabbies, any colour.
FOUR. Short-haired tortoiseshell and tortoise-and-white.
FIVE. Anomalous, as Manx, etc.
The first class would include Persian, Angora, and other long-haired
cats--black, white, tabby, or tortoiseshell. The third class would
include all tabbies--brown, red, and grey or silver. Class Four must
have tortoiseshell-and-white as well as tortoiseshell, or it will be a
small class, owing to the rarity of the pure tortoiseshell. The last
class will give a place to Manx, six-toed cats, wild cats, and hybrids,
as well as any curious foreign pussy that may be forthcoming. At all
shows you find a great many cats entered in the wrong class. I think it
a pity that secretaries don't arrange these in their proper classes; it
is not right to exclude merit through mistake. In judging, prizes
should be withheld where there is no competition; and where there is
want of merit in any one class, some of the prizes should be withdrawn
and added to any class of _extra_ merit. We come now to the
_black-and-white cat_.
A good black-and-white cat is a very noble-looking animal. If
well-trained and looked after, you can hardly have a nicer parlour pet.
He is affectionate in his disposition, and cleanly and gentlemanly, so
to speak, and makes himself quite an ornament to a well-furnished
drawing-room. I must speak, however, of the demerits of my pets, as
well as of their good qualities, and feel constrained to say that I have
sometimes found black-and-white Tom a pussy who did not trouble himself
too much about his duties as house-cat; he much preferred the parlour to
the kitchen, a good bed to a hay-loft, and seemed to think that catching
mean little mice was far below his dignity. If well treated black and
white cats are apt to turn a little indolent and lazy, and if improperly
fed and housed, they degenerate into the most wretched-looking specimens
of felinity you ever looked upon. All the bad in their character comes
out, and their good qualities are forgotten. Their coat gets dry, and
tear, and are cinder-holed; and, instead of the plump, round-faced,
clerical-looking cat which used to adorn your parlour window, you have a
thin, emaciated, long-nosed, pigeon-loft-hunting, flower-unscraping,
dirty, disreputable dunghill cat. Of course, the same may, to a certain
extent, be said of most neglected cats, but the two breeds that show to
the least advantage, when ill-used, are the black-and-white and the
red-and-white, and more especially the former.
_Merits_.--I like these cats more for their appearance than anything
else. When nicely marked they look reverend and respectable in the
extreme. I consider them but very ordinary pussies in regard to
house-hunting. A naval officer who cannot go to quarters without having
his hands encased in white kids, and a black-and-white cat, carry on
duty much on a par. Neither do these cats make over good children's
pets, being at times a little selfish. They are beautiful creatures,
nevertheless, and well worthy of a place at our parlour firesides.
_Points_.--1. _Size_: As big as possible, but not leggy; reasonably
plump for the show-bench, but _very_ graceful in all their motions; with
stoutish short forelegs, and plenty of spring in the hindquarters.
2. _Head_: The best black-and-white Toms have large, well-rounded
heads, with moderately long ears, and a well-pleased, self-contented
expression of face. The whiskers are usually white, but black is not
objectionable. The eyes are preferred green, and sparkling like
emeralds of the finest water.
3. _Colour and markings_: The colour is black-and-white, with as much
of the former, and as little of the latter as you can find. I like to
see the nose and cheeks vandyked with white, the chin black, white
fore-paws, white hind legs and belly, and a white chest. This is all
that is needed for beauty's sake; but, at all events, the markings must
be even.
4. _Pelage_: Fur should be longish (and I don't object to its being
ticked all over the back with longer white hairs), silky, and glossy.
Points of the Black-and-White Cat.
Size, 10.
Head, 5.
Colour and markings, 25.
Pelage, 10.
Total, 50.
The next cat on the boards is the white cat.
It is very remarkable--and most students of feline nature must have had
an opportunity of observing this--the great difference in the
temperament, constitution, and nature of cats, which colour alone,
apparently, has the power of truly indicating; and this is nowhere more
easily seen than in the peculiar characteristics of the pure black pussy
and the all-white one. The black cat, on the one hand, is bold, and
free, and fierce; the white, far from brave, more fond of petting and
society, and as gentle as a little white mouse. The black cat is full
of life and daring; the white of a much quieter and more loving
disposition. The black cat stands but little "cuddling;" the white
would like to be always nursed. It takes but little pains to teach a
black cat to be perfectly cleanly, but much more to train a pure white
one. In constitution the black cat is much more hardy and lasting, the
white cat being often delicate, and longing apparently for a sunnier
clime. A black cat is often afflicted with _kleptomania_, while a
properly-educated white puss is as honest as the day is long.
The senses of the black cat are nearly always in a state of perfection,
while the white is often deaf, and at times a little blind. Again there
is nothing demoniacal about a white cat, as there often is about a black
one. I remember, when a little boy at the grammar school of Aberdeen,
receiving a box from the country containing lots of good things, and
marked, "A Present from Muffle"--Muffle was a pet tabby of mine--and,
childlike, replying in verse, the last lines of the "poem" being--
"And when at last Death's withering arms
Shall throw his mantle thee around,
May angel catties carry thee
To the happy hunting-ground."
Well, a blue-eyed white pussy was my idea of an "angel cattie" then, and
it is not altered still.
It will be observed, however, that the colour of the kittens of the same
litter will often differ, and the question naturally comes to be asked,
Do I assert that the nature and temperament of cats in the same litter
will not coincide? I do so aver most unhesitatingly; and the thing
is easily explained if you bear in mind that a litter of
differently-coloured kittens has had but _one_ mother, but _many_
fathers. Although born from the same mother in one day, they stand in
the relation to each other of half-brothers and half-sisters. Except
when the odds in colour is very distinct, as in black, white, or red,
the difference in constitution, etc, will not be so easily perceived,
but it is there, nevertheless. _Colour follows the breed, and temper
and quality follow colour_. This is the same all throughout nature, and
is often observed, though but little studied, by dog fanciers. I have
only to remind pointer and setter men, how often hardiness and good
stamp cling to certain colours. That "God tempers the wind to the shorn
lamb," I believe to be merely metaphor, but I am ready to go to death on
it that He paints the petals of the flower and the blossoms on the
fruit-tree, to the requirements of the tender seedlings. What sort of
fruit would you grow in the dark, or under deeply-coloured glass shades?
Lest I be found guilty of digression, I shall say no more now on this
subject.
_Merits of the White Cat_.--A _pet_, gentle and loving above a cat of
any other colour, though at times dull, and cross, and wayward; "given,"
as a lady said, "to moods of melancholy." Not a bad mouser either, when
"i' th' vein," and a good cat for a miller to have, not being easily
seen among sacks of flour.
_Points_.--1. _Size_: Seldom a large cat. 2. _Head_: Smallish, and as
nicely rounded as possible; ears not too long, and well-feathered
internally; eyes of "himmel-blue;" eyes ought to be both the same
colour--if not so, deduct five points. 3. _Pelage_: Fine, soft, and
glossy; but a too long coat shows a cross with Angora. 4. _Colour_:
White as driven snow, if intended for a show cat; if not, a very little
black wonderfully improves the constitution.
Points of the White Cat.
Size, 5.
Head and eyes, 15.
Colour, 25.
Pelage, 5.
Total, 50.
CHAPTER SIX.
THE BLUE CAT; AND TABBIES--RED, BROWN, SPOTTED, AND SILVER.
The Blue cat: just one word about this pretty creature before passing on
to the Tabbies. Although she is called a blue cat, don't fancy for a
moment that ultramarine is anywhere near her colour, or himmel-blue, or
honest navy serge itself. Her colour is a sad slate-colour; I cannot
get any nearer to it than that.