It turned out that Mary’s cat had taken up her abode in a farmer’s hay-loft, fully half a mile from her owner’s house; but no one had seen her until the day she carried home her kittens. She had no doubt subsisted all the time on rats and mice, for she was in fine condition when she gladdened the old maid’s heart with her return.
You may often observe that if two she-cats are living together, or in adjoining houses, one always gets and retains the mastery over the other, until that other happens to be nursing, when she in her turn becomes mistress, and her companion is glad to give her a wide berth.
Cats will go through fire and water to save the life of their kittens, and fight to the bitter end to protect them. A dog will seldom dare to attack a cat while she is nursing her young. My own cat actually imposes the duties of dry nurse on my Newfoundland, “Theodore Nero.” His finely feathered legs make a delightful bed for them. He seems pleased with the trust too, and licks them all over with his tongue. In Muffie’s absence, he lies perfectly still, seemingly afraid to move lest he should hurt them. When they get a little older and more playful, they make tremendous onslaughts on his nose and ears and tail, which the honest fellow bears with the most exemplary patience, for he loves Muffie, although many a wild chase he gives her numerous lovers. He can’t bear “followers.”
The other day a playfellow of his, a large Irish water-spaniel, looked in at the door just to ask if he would come for a romp for an hour, as the sun was shining, the breakers running mountains high on the beach, and any number of little boys to throw in sticks to them. Theodore Nero was nursing. But Muffie went, and I should think that dog felt sorry he had ever turned out of bed at all that morning. The cat rode him at least fifty yards from her own door, battering him unmercifully all the way. Then she came back, and sang to Nero. Poor Coolin staggered down the road, half blinded with blood, and shaking his beautiful ears in a most pitiful manner; but his sorrows were only half over, for not seeing very well where he was running, he stumbled right upon a clucking hen and chickens. And she gave it to him next. If the cat warmed one end of him, she restored the equilibrium, and warmed the other; so true is it that misfortunes seldom come singly.
Cats have been often known to leap gallantly into the water after a drowning kitten, and bring it safely to land. A case occurred only a few days ago. Some lads stole a cat’s only kitten, and after playing with it all day, proposed drowning it. With this intention they went to a mill-dam, and threw it far into the water. But the loving little mother had been waiting and watching not far off, and, stimulated by the drowning cry of her kitten, she bravely swam towards it, and brought it on shore. I know another instance of a cat, that saved the life of a kitten which belonged to another cat. Her own kittens had been drowned a whole week before, but evidently she had not forgotten the loss; and one day, seeing four kittens being drowned in a pool, she plunged in, and seizing the largest brought it to bank, and marched off with it in triumph. She reared it carefully. The children baptized it Moses, very appropriately too; and it is now a fine, large Tom-tabby.
A poor cat some time since nearly lost her life in the Dee, attempting to save the life of her kitten. The river was swollen with recent rains, and the kitten was in the centre of the stream; but, nothing daunted, pussy, like the brave little heroine she was, plunged in, and finally reached it. Here her real danger only began, for the current was very strong, and pussy was whirled rapidly down the river. After struggling for nearly half an hour, she succeeded in landing at a bend of the river nearly a mile below. She had stuck to her poor kitten all the time; but the little thing was dead.
A family in Fifeshire were about removing to another farm, about four miles distant from the one they then occupied. Part of their household gods was a nice large she-tabby, and being kind-hearted folks, they never thought of leaving her behind; so having found a home with a neighbour for pussy’s one kitten, they took the mother with them to their new residence. Next morning pussy had disappeared, and they were just beginning to put faith in the popular fallacy that cats are more attached to places than persons, when back came pussy, and with her her kitten. That kitten, pussy thought, wasn’t old enough for weaning, and so she had gone back all the way to steal it. She was right.
Owing to the peculiarities of his matrimonial relations, the happy father of a litter of kittens shares none of the responsibility, and has none of the care and trouble of rearing them, because he does not, as a rule, reside in the bosom of his family. When he does live with his wife, however, he is never exempted from family duties. And Tom always shows himself a thoughtful husband and loving father. A male cat of my acquaintance was most exemplary in his attentions on his wife at one of the most interesting and critical periods of her life. Made aware, goodness knows how, of her approaching confinement, he not only selected the closet for the occasion, but even made her bed for her, and stood sentry at the door till the whole affair was over. Every morning for weeks he trotted upstairs, first thing, to see if his wife wanted anything, and to gaze enraptured on his darlings. I am sorry to say, however, that this little woman rather bullied her doating husband. If she happened to be in good humour when Tom entered, then well and good, she returned his fond cry and chaste salute. If not, her brows fell at once, and she let him have it straight from the shoulder. Poor Tom in the latter case used to mew apologetically, and retire. It was Tom’s duty every morning to bring in a very young rabbit, a bird, or at least a mouse, and it seemed to be an understood thing that he should bring it “all alive ho!” When he brought it dead, she slapped him. Sometimes he brought a herring, then she slapped him. Indeed, she lost no opportunity of slapping him. She slapped him if he looked fond and foolish at her, and she slapped him if he didn’t. One day he was put to nurse the kittens. The kittens commenced an unavailing search for tits among Tom’s fur. As a wet nurse, Tom was a failure. He was slapped, and sent off accordingly. Tom seemed to have business that took him down town every day. Whenever he came back, he was snuffed all over and examined to see whether he had been with lady friends. If he had been, then he was properly slapped. So there was a good deal of slapping. His wife was fond of him, however, for, once, when he absented himself without leave for a whole day and a night, she made the house ring with her melancholy cries. She half killed him when he did return, nevertheless. Such is conjugal felicity.
Although, as a rule, all the duties of maternity seem to end with the weaning of the kitten, still the motherly affection does not die out; and in cases of sickness in any of her children, pussy at once resumes the cares of nursing, as the following little story will illustrate.
GINGER AND JOSIE.