favourite rather roughly, is kind to her in the main. Doesn't pussy get
a share of Alice's porridge every morning? doesn't she sup with Alice
every night? and do you think for one moment Alice would go to bed
without her? Not she. And still this cat, may be as savage as a she
tiger, to every one else in the house save to her little mistress. Just
let you or me, reader, attempt to hold her up by the tail--well, I would
a hundred times rather you should try it than I.
The very fact, I think, that faithful pussy is so fond of our innocent
children, and so patient and self-denying towards them, is one reason
why we should be kind to her, and study her comforts a little more than
we do.
But probably one of the most endearing traits in the character of the
domestic cat is her extreme attachment to, and love for, the person who
owns her. If you once get your cat to really love you, no matter how
fond she may be of the home where she was born and reared, she will go
with you, if you but say the word, to the uttermost parts of the earth.
My poor old favourite, Muffle, has travelled many, many thousands of
miles with me by sea and land, and always watched over both me and my
property _with all the care_ and fidelity of a Highland collie. Been
lost, too, she has, many a time in the midst of big bustling cities
which were quite strange to her--been lost, but always turned up again.
I know of many instances in which cats have so attached themselves to
their owners, that, when the latter have died, they have refused all
food, and in a few days succumbed to grief, and gone, I fondly hope, to
meet the loved one in a world that's free of care.
"But the largest cat," writes one of my numerous correspondents, "I ever
saw belonged to my mother's mother, and was wise and sedate in
proportion to its size. Its good mistress was often distressed with
palpitation of the heart, and during the silent hours of night paced the
bedroom floor in pain--but not alone, for the faithful creature would
walk slowly at her side, seeming by his look to pity her condition, and
when she lay down he would still stand sentinel at her head. He never
could be persuaded to leave the house while she lived, yet a few hours
before her death he suddenly took flight, but only to the lower
apartments, which my parents occupied, and from which he never stirred
again."
I never think, somehow, that a fireside has the same cheerful look of an
evening unless there be a cat there, to sit on the footstool, and sing
duets with the tea-kettle.
And I do not wonder at old women, whose friends have all long since gone
before, and who have no one left to care for them, getting greatly
attached to a faithful pussy; for people must have something to love.
"But, fancy loving a cat!" I think I hear some churl remark.
Yes, cynical reader, and I have, myself, before now, often shared my
heart with stranger pets than cats; and I don't mind betting you that
what I have left of it is bigger than yours now.
Figuratively speaking, I think a man's or a woman's heart is like a
blacksmith's arm--_it grows with use_.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
HINTS UPON BREEDING AND REARING CATS FOR EXHIBITION, AND A WORD ABOUT
CAT-SHOWS.
At nearly all the cat-shows which I have visited of late, I have been
invariably impressed with this one idea: here, in these shows, we see
pussy as she is in the present day--the live mouse-trap, the barn cat,
at best the fireside favourite--but, at all events, the animal, of all
our domestic animals, that is least cared for, and the only animal we
possess, whose improvement in condition and species we have never cared
to study. What this animal--the domestic cat--can become, the
perfection to which she may attain through judicious selection and
careful breeding, it is for future years to show.
Other nations--such as the Persians and different other Asiatics--know
far more about the domestic cat than we do, and quite put us to the
blush with their splendidly-bred and high-blooded animals.
It is one of the many popular fallacies current in this enlightened land
of ours, that there is in the cat a certain number of bad qualities--a
certain spice of the devil, so to speak--that never can be bred out.
This is simply absurd, for there is no animal that lives and breathes on
God's fair earth but is susceptible of improvement, both physically and
morally; for, remember, a cat, little as you may think of her, has a
mind _and a soul_, as well as you have. She has thought, and memory,
and reasoning powers; she can love and she can fear, can be happy and
gay, or sad and sorrowful, and she knows something too of the mystery of
death.
With all these qualities will you tell me that she cannot be improved?
I say she can; even as to race; for what can be accomplished with
individual cats, may be accomplished with the whole race. I can
introduce you to dozens of cat-fanciers in this country, who have made
the peculiarities of pussy's nature their study, and who find that they
can, at will, not only improve the physical condition of their cats; but
even, by careful training, occasional gentle correction, kindness, and
good-feeding, raise them from good to better, and wean them from the
ways which are so objectionable in other, or merely half-domesticated
cats. And, look you, the progeny of such animals--by a law well-known
to all breeders--take after them, or inherit the good qualities of their
parents. Hence, I repeat, if you can improve the individual cat,
through time you may improve the _genus_. That time may be long in
coming--granted; but that the lovers of cats, in this country, have
boldly seized the bull by the horns, and are taking a step in the right
direction, is a positive fact which admits of no denial.
Now, to those who are fond of cats, and would fain improve the
particular breed they have a fancy for, and probably win prizes at our
great shows, I beg to offer the following hints:--
_First_. Having made up your mind as to what particular breed you mean
to go in for, stick by that breed for a time, at least, and go in for no
other.
_Secondly_. Be careful in your selection of parents. For instance: we
will suppose you mean to breed pure white Angoras; well, purchase at a
first-class show a Tom kitten and a queen kitten _from different
litters_. Choose the liveliest, biggest, and most healthy-looking
kitten of each litter, not, as in choosing pups, the heaviest and
sleepiest-looking. The funny kitten turns out the best cat, and is more
easily trained than a sulky or frightened one.
Having gotten your purchases home, remember that the royal road to a
kitten's affection is straight through its stomach. Be, yourself, then,
the first to present pussy with a saucer of warm, creamy milk.
_Thirdly. How to get size_. This is accomplished by the quantity and
quality of pussy's food, and the regularity with which she gets her
meals. Whatever you give a young cat, and a growing cat to eat, do not
let it be too abundant. Never let her gorge herself; give her little
and often. Don't let her want for a saucerful of pure water, to which
she can always find access. Let her allowance of milk be put down to
her and taken up again when she has had all she wants; what she leaves
had better be given to the pigs. Bad milk is a fruitful source of
diarrhoea, dysentery, and some forms of skin disease. A little
sulphur--about as much as will lie on a fourpenny-bit--should be given
at least once a fortnight, or half that quantity once a week.
Train your cats early to habits of cleanliness. Don't forget the
flower-pot saucer; and remember that, if the cats you wish to take
prizes with, belong to any of the finer breeds, they _must_ be parlour
cats, and not kitchen-bred brutes.
If you want your cats to grow large, let their food be nourishing but
not stimulating; boiled cow's or sheep's lights they can eat their
stomachs full of; but avoid beef, it is too gross and heating, and don't
patronise the cat's-meat man.
Kittens and growing cats, in order to grow large, must have plenty of
exercise and fun. Leaping exercise is best. Teach them to jump through
a hoop, and keep them at it. They ought to have a ball as a toy, or a
hare's foot; and ridiculous as it may seem to many, it is a positive
fact, that cats--especially queen cats--thrive best who have a
looking-glass conveniently placed to admire themselves in, and to wash
and dress in front of.
"Ilka little maks a mickle," is a good old Scotch proverb, and believe
me it is attention to little matters, to minutiae, which makes one
successful in properly rearing any animal.
_Fourthly. How to get Good Pelage on a Cat_. The feeding of course has
much to do with the length and gloss of the coat. Fish I have found is
good for the coat, and a mixed diet generally, with not too much
vegetables to scour them. But your sheet-anchors, after all, are the
brush and the comb. The comb must be fine, and not too close in the
teeth, and it should be used gently, after which brush the coat briskly
all over with a long-haired soft hair-brush--a baby's brush in fact.
The comb is not only a gentle stimulant to the skin, but it prevents
matting, while the brush removes dust, and gives a nice glitter to the
pelage. Both together act as a charm.
_Fifthly_. In cats other than white you will find that certain kinds of
food strengthen the colours of the pelage. I am convinced, for
instance, that boiled bullock's lights do, and so does sheep's blood.
This fact is perhaps worth knowing. I am making experiments with other
foods and some condiments, but am not yet in a position to state
results.
_Sixthly. Breeding for colour_. No matter what colour your parent cats
are, you will occasionally find waifs and strays in a litter that you
will wonder to find of a different colour. But do not be discouraged;
stick only to the true colours, and you will find in time that such
anomalies will become few and far between. Be careful to avoid the
possibility of any litter of kittens having more than one father.
_Seventhly_. In young cats, which you are breeding to take prizes with,
begin to look out for symptoms of the queen's getting gay, any time
after six months, and on the first signs lock her up for a week, or
until she becomes herself again. Do not think of breeding from a cat
you mean for the show-bench until she is at least eighteen months old,
else you will spoil her for size.
Some people fancy that to manage cats properly, and guide their breeding
to the Tom you desire them to, is very difficult. I have not found it
so. There is a little trouble, certainly, but you are amply rewarded,
when you find on the birth of the kittens that you have been successful.
The only thing you've got to do, is to watch the queen well, and lock
her up for a night or two with her own lord in an outhouse. Then
afterwards keep her prisoner by herself for ten days. The danger is
quite past then.
_Eighthly_. About a week before any important show, be more than
usually careful with the grooming, etc, of your cats, and feed them up a
bit; give them an extra allowance of milk and cream, and boiled rice and
sugar, and occasionally mutton and mutton-broth, but take great care not
to induce diarrhoea.
_Ninthly_. Send them to the show in a basket lined with flannel and a
cushion, and pretty collar or ribbon to match the colour of the coat.
Let the colour of the cushion be also effective, and in keeping with
pussy's jacket.
As to cat-shows themselves, I have nothing but good to say. All
prosperity to their promoters and patrons! They are in general, indeed
almost invariably, well managed, and the cats are carefully caged,
properly tended and fed, and no lady need apprehend the slightest danger
to her feline favourite, in being sent to any of our great shows. It is
seldom, if ever, that a cat is lost, the baskets containing the pussies
never being opened, until inside the building, and then only with the
greatest care. Indeed, one needs to be pretty cautious in handling a
strange cat. Your well-bred beauties, in particular, make it a rule to
stand no nonsense.
The cats are fed morning and night, and regularly supplied with the best
and sweetest milk which the town can afford. Indeed, altogether, the
poor things appear quite as happy as they are at their own firesides.
If it is a four-day show, they soon come to know and welcome with gloved
hand, the girl attendants every time they pass. There is no
head-splitting noise and din as there is in a dog-show. Peace and quiet
and serenity reign everywhere in a cat-show.
At nearly all the shows--at all events at all the _great_ shows--Mr
Sillet, the well-known naturalist of Southampton, has the arrangement of
the pens or cages for the pussies. And very well he does his work too.
Every cage is supplied with a box for sand at the back, and in the fore
part with a beautiful soft cushion. The boxes are emptied daily, and
disinfectants are also used, so that everything is sweet and clean. The
entries at some of our national shows, such as the Crystal Palace and
Birmingham, number between three and four hundred, and every year I
trust the numbers will be increased.
You see then, reader, that no danger can accrue from sending your feline
favourite to a show, and I may tell you also that if she is anything
like good at all, she is almost sure of finding herself placed.
Cat-shows are only in their infancy, and anyone who _chances_ to have a
good cat, may nowadays take prizes. In future years, there will be no
chance work about the matter at all, and those only who study the
breeding and rearing of cats in a scientific and sensible manner will be
the winners.
When you send your entry form up to the secretary, be careful you have
placed your pussy in the right class, not only as to breed but as to
sex, whether male, female, or gelded. As to breed, you must attend to
the colour and also to the length of the coat.
There are classes for all kinds of cats, and a class for anomalies
besides.
I am often sorry, when judging at shows, to have to disqualify many a
beautiful specimen of the feline race, because it has been carelessly
entered in a wrong class. If people only will read with some degree of
attention the description of each class, given in the schedules, they
need never make this mistake.
To such clever and energetic managers of shows as Mr Wilson, of the
Crystal Palace, who seems to have adopted the motto of the Cameron clan,
"Whatever a man dares he can do," or sensible Mr Chaplin, of
Birmingham, or Mr Brown, of Edinburgh, or Mr Martin, of Glasgow, I
have positively nothing to suggest. Let anyone who wants to get up a
cat-show take a lesson out of the books of either.
To amateur managers I may say this: Be very tender and gentle with the
feline property entrusted to your care; remember not only that cats are
extremely nervous and sensitive creatures, but also that numbers of them
have a value in the eyes of their owners far above money and above
price.
Feed with Spratt's Patent Cat Food. This ought to be used at all shows;
it has the advantage of being cleanly, handy, and wholesome. A small
allowance of boiled lights may be added.
Use chloride of lime, not too much of it, as a disinfectant.
Fill the utility boxes with plain garden mould or sand, but _never put
charcoal in it_. That soils the fur, and doesn't give a white cat the
chance of looking well.
_Never put sawdust in a cat's cage_. It gets into the milk and spoils
it, and if they lick it it will make them ill.
Do not receive a cat that is suffering from illness of any sort.
If a cat should appear to be ill any time during the exhibition, have
her carefully removed and sent home.
Finally, if possible, have beautifully ornamented prize cards, and send
them home neat and clean to the successful exhibitors. These cards are
greatly valued, and generally framed and hung in a conspicuous place.
No one, except the initiated, can have any idea what an important little
creature a cat becomes that has once taken a prize. She is then more
than ever the valued pet of her owners, and an object of interest even
to the neighbours.
CHAPTER NINETEEN.
ON CRUELTY TO CATS.
"He prayeth well, who loveth well,
Both man, and bird, and beast;
He prayeth best, who loveth best,
All things both great and small,
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all."
Coleridge.
I am fond of cats, and am never happier than when I am writing about
them; nevertheless, it is with feelings the very reverse of pleasant
that I commence the present chapter. Were I to consult my own comfort,
I should avoid the subject of cruelty to cats, and it is only with the
hope, that I may be the means of doing some little good to poor harmless
pussy, that I approach the matter at all.
I am not a sentimentalist by any means, yet I abominate wanton cruelty.
I am fond of animals, yet not maudlinly so. I am not a vegetarian; and,
although I neither believe that all animals were made for man's use, nor
that man was made for theirs (as, you remember, was the opinion of the
pampered goose), still I think we are right to kill and to use them as
food. So I am fond of fishing, and fond too of shooting, and I can see
nothing in the Bible against either practice. The very reverse, indeed,
and everywhere in nature we observe that God permits one animal to prey
upon another; and can the Lord Himself do wrong?
Yet, albeit I love sport and shooting, I do not think I am cruel. All
my animals love me. My fishes know me, and come to be fed; my birds
flutter their wings with affectionate excitement when I approach their
cage; my white rats run to me when I call; my cat certainly never rushes
up the chimney when I enter the room; and when I am dead I know my dogs
will miss me.
Now, what I particularly object to is wanton and unnecessary cruelty.
If we have to, and must, put the lower animals to death, in order that
we--the higher animals--may live, we ought to do so as humanely as
possible; and never, on any account, should we torture animals for mere
sport. Hence I object to cock-fighting, pigeon or sparrow-shooting, and
ratting--all mean and cowardly employments, and quite unfitted for men
above the rank of the commonest navvy. I see no harm in deer-stalking
in Scotland, where the deer are as wild as the hare or coney; but I do
see very great cruelty in what is called stag-hunting in England. The
stag in England is a domesticated animal, and I do not see that there is
greater pluck or courage needed in hunting it, than there would be in
chasing a decent old Alderney cow. I had travelled pretty nearly all
over the world, and had shot in Africa, India, and Greenland, before I
witnessed the first English stag-hunt. If my sympathies had not been
all with the poor stag, I should have been highly amused indeed. The
first stag wouldn't move at all; he looked upon the matter as too good a
joke. "No, beggar me," he seemed to say, "if I'll budge an inch, to
please anybody!" And he didn't. Yet this stag-hunting, they will tell
you, seriously, keeps up the national courage. Believe me, reader,
English courage requires no such keeping up, and it will be a poor day
for this country when it does. Besides, it is only gentlemen (?) who
hunt; and, well as our army is officered, it is, after all, the men who
do the fighting; and it has always struck me that good beef and mutton,
together with a determination to do their duty, are the mainstays on
which our soldiers depend in the day of battle.
A great deal, I think, of the cruelty which is inflicted on the poor
cat, is done through ignorance of pussy's nature and constitution; done
unwittingly, and with no real intention of doing the animal an injury.
It is very cruel indeed to starve the creature, with the idea that you
will induce her to catch more mice. When a cat is hungry the system is
weak, the mind is dull, and the nerves so far from being well-strung
that she will do anything sooner than hunt. A well-filled stomach gives
pussy patience, and that is much wanted for mouse-killing; besides, you
must not forget that cats kill mice as much for the sport as anything
else.
Another very common form of cruelty is that of turning the cat out every
night. Cats need their comforts, and enjoy them too, more than any
other domestic animal we possess. Leaving her out at night not only
exposes her to colds, inflammations, and various diseases, but it leads
her to contract bad habits; and she eventually gets trapped or killed,
and no wonder; is she not, through your carelessness, a nuisance to the
whole neighbourhood?
It is cruel not to feed your cats with regularity. They expect it, and
need it; and, if they do not get it, what else can you expect but that
your cat will become a thief?
What is called "wandering" cats is extremely cruel. A man has no
further use for his cat, so he "wanders" her. I assure you it would be
far more humane to drown her at once. How would you, yourself, like to
be wandered--to be taken abroad somewhere, and placed down in the centre
of savages; hungry and cold, and longing and pining for the home you
left behind you; and in danger every moment of being cruelly slain?
Don't you think that speedy dissolution were more to be desired than
such a life?
It is cruel, when your cat has kittens, to permit more to live than you
can find decent homes for. It is a shame to a poor little kit, after it
has opened its eyes to the wonders all around it, and begun to get happy
and funny. Always keep one or two kittens for sake of the mother, and
try, if possible, to find some one to take them. But the worst form of
unintentional cruelty is that of leaving your poor favourite at home,
when you go to the seaside, or to summer quarters. Often and often, on
the return of the family, the unhappy cat is found lying in the empty
hall, dead or dying, and wasted away to a mere handful of bones and
skin--this in itself testifying to the sufferings she must have
undergone for the want of food and water. Such gross _carelessness
ought to be made penal_. I do not know whether the Society has ever yet
prosecuted anyone for thus cruelly starving a cat, but I should think it
would have little difficulty in obtaining a conviction.
I come now to mention some cases of intentional and specific cruelty,
and shall be as brief as possible.
Some men, both young and old, think that a cat is a fit subject for
torture and cruelty of all kinds; hence they never miss the chance of
shying a stone after pussy's retreating figure. Cases, too, are
continually cropping up in the police courts, of men having tortured
cats to the death with dogs.
Cat skins are considered of some value by the furriers. At a sale not
long since in London, there were some three thousand cat skins. Where
think you, reader, do these come from? That is a question unfortunately
only too easily answered. In almost all large cities there exists a
gang of ruffians--you cannot call them by a milder name--who eke out a
sort of livelihood by stealing cats by every available means and method.
But worse than this remains to be told; it is darkly whispered, and I
have some reason to believe it may be but too true, that many of those
poor cats are _skinned alive_, in the belief that the living skin thus
procured retains the gloss.
In Greenland I have seen young seals flayed alive by the score. That
was a sickening sight enough, but skinning alive a poor harmless cat
must be many times worse. I wish I could say that it was only the
lowest class of ruffians that ill-treat poor cats to the death, but--and
I know this for certain--there are men who pass as gentlemen, who night
after night set traps for cats that stray into their gardens, and kill
them in the cruellest manner; and some of these fellows, too, keep
neither poultry, pigeons, nor rabbits, and haven't a flower in their
gardens worthy of the name, only _they hate cats_. I know one gentleman
(?) who thus traps and kills cats because he has a passion for fur rugs,
which he thus indulges on the cheap.
Little boys, and those too, sometimes the sons of respectable parents
who ought to have taught them better, are often dreadfully cruel to
cats, stoning them wherever found, and setting dogs to worry them to
death.
A lady, a friend of mine, once attracted by the heartrending cries of a
cat, found two young fiends, with a pretty pussy tied in an apron,
gouging its eyes out with a nail!
A common form of cruelty to cats, in some rural districts of England, is
that of tying two of them together by the tails and hanging them over a
rope or pole to fight to the death.
Such cases as that of cutting cats' tails off for wanton mischief,
burning or boiling cats alive, though not unknown, I am happy to say are
very rare.
Now, considering how very useful an animal a cat is, I think it is high
time the law interfered to protect her from violence and ill-usage.