An Introduction to Nature-study

by E. Stenhouse

The external characters of the cat and dog.—The cat and the dog are so commonly kept as pets that they are perhaps more easily examined than any other animals. In addition, they are so closely related and yet exhibit so many differences that they afford a valuable exercise in the methods of comparison and contrast which are at the foundation of all successful work in Nature-Study. Several differences are at once apparent on even a casual inspection. The body of the cat ([Fig. 169]) is covered with soft, smooth fur, and its head is provided with long, sensitive whiskers. In both of these respects it resembles the rabbit and other mammals which are in the habit of creeping along narrow and dark passages. It is commonly said that cats can see in the dark. Although this is not altogether true—for no animal can see in total darkness—the cat’s eyes have the power of adapting themselves remarkably to the intensity of the light. In a dim light, the curtain, or iris, which surrounds the pupil (the dark, central window through which light enters the eye) is drawn back so as to admit as much light as possible; whereas in a very bright light the curtain is so nearly closed that the pupil is merely a narrow, vertical slit. On the other hand, the dog ([Fig. 170]), which is not fond of dark passages, has its body clothed with rough hair, instead of fur; and its whiskers are not nearly so long as those of the cat. Again, although the iris of a dog’s eye alters in size to regulate the amount of light entering the eye, the pupil is always round, and the change of size is much less marked than in the cat. Another very noticeable difference is in the claws at the ends of the toes, corresponding to the nails at the ends of our own fingers and toes. In the cat these are sickle-shaped and extremely sharp, and are kept drawn completely back into sheaths when they are not required. The dog’s claws are blunt, and cannot be retracted. Both the dog and the cat rest the weight of the body upon the toes—not upon the sole of the foot—when walking or running.

Fig. 170.—Foxhound.

There is also a very marked difference in the tongues of the two animals. The tongue of the cat is rough, with small points directed backwards. These points are of great help in licking the flesh from bones; and they also serve as a comb when the cat—which is fastidious about the cleanliness of its fur—“washes” itself. The tongue of the dog is smooth and moist.

The inherited habits of the cat and dog.—Very obvious differences are also to be seen in the habits of the two animals, and these would be somewhat difficult to explain if we confined our attention to the domesticated animals only, which live under artificial conditions. When, however, we consider the wild relatives of the cat and dog, many of the differences become full of significance. The wild animals of the cat family, almost without exception, are either solitary or live in pairs; whereas the wild dogs (wolves, jackals, etc.) live in packs. The habits which these respective methods of life entailed have become so firmly implanted in the nature of the race that even now, after thousands of generations of domestication, they may be traced. Such inherited habits, which are not dependent upon, or may be at variance with, present conditions of life, are called instincts.

We will first see how the ancestral custom of living in organised packs has left its impress upon the instincts of the domesticated dog. The first essential to the success of any community of animals—whether these are bees or rooks, wolves or men—is that all the creatures composing it shall conform to certain rules, which have for their object the good of the community and not merely that of the individual. Acts which promote the wellbeing of the society as a whole are good, and are directly or indirectly rewarded. Acts which tend to injure the society as such are bad, and inevitably bring punishment either to the individual offender or, what is worse, to his pack. A distinction between right and wrong is thus established which would be impossible to any animal living so solitary a life that its acts affected only itself. In this manner were aroused the social instinct, the love of praise and the dread of shame, the lifelong attachment to early friends, and almost all the other qualities which have so endeared the dog to mankind; because these qualities resulted naturally from the ancestral pack-life. Left to itself, the dog loses its nerve, for it is by nature unfitted for a solitary life. What more woe-begone animal is ever seen than a lost dog?

Contrast the cat in these respects. It is at heart an outlaw, like its wild ancestors: recognising, in general, no motives but those of its own ease and gratification. Its social instinct is almost absent; and though it sometimes displays affection to people who pet it, the cat is, as a rule, more attached to places than to persons. It retains, too, the independence and versatility which are developed by a solitary life. A lost cat can usually take care of itself and find sufficient food; and cases are not uncommon of cats leaving comfortable homes and choosing to live wild lives in the woods.

Ancestral methods of hunting also account largely for certain differences in the domestic cat and dog. The solitary ancestral cats, like the lions and tigers of to-day, sprang suddenly upon the prey at the end of silent, stealthy stalking. How firmly this method has become fixed in the character of the race may be seen still in the manner in which a cat stalks a mouse or a small bird, or even, in play, a dead leaf. At the final spring the sharp, sickle-shaped claws are used to hold down the victim. The solitary hunter is able to devour its capture at leisure, and the domestic cat is still distinguished by its dainty and deliberate manner of feeding.

The wild dogs hunt in a quite different manner. The whole pack joins in the chase, the trail being followed by the sense of smell. There is no attempt at concealment, no stealthy stalking; but an open reliance upon speed, endurance, and numbers, rather than upon cunning. If one dog loses the scent another picks it up and gives the signal. Mutual help is thus the secret of success in hunting. But this is at an end when the prey is killed. The victim is torn to pieces and devoured greedily, each animal eating as rapidly as possible, for in most cases there is not enough to satisfy them all. And the well-fed domestic dog still betrays the ancestral necessity for hurried eating in the manner of bolting his food.