Cats rearing Dogs.—A cat of mine, a few years ago, suckled and reared a beautiful Pomeranian dog. I thought at the time this was rather surprising; but I should not be surprised now at anything a cat did.
A gentleman, the other day, had a very nice fox-terrier bitch. The poor thing died giving birth to a litter of four puppies. His cat, however, whose kittens had been all drowned a day or too before, immediately installed herself in the vacant bed and adopted the puppies. She proved a good mother to them, and successfully reared every one of them.
I know of another similar instance, where a cat was house-mate with a rather valuable bitch; this bitch brought forth a litter of seven pups. The cat had five kittens at the same time. Thinking that seven whelps were rather many for the bitch to rear, four of pussy’s kittens were drowned and two pups put to her instead. But pussy peremptorily refused to have anything to say to them, and persisted in that refusal until the expedient was tried of drowning the remaining kitten. That brought the cat to her senses; and she took to her foster children kindly enough and reared them. This same cat afterwards suckled a puppy and kitten at the same time.
One day she gave birth to her kittens in an out-house, and at once leaving them to shift for themselves, she entered the dwelling house and insisted on giving suck to the dog of her first adoption. As he was now a full-grown dog, and had a great regard for his own respectability, he didn’t see the fun of it. Pussy went after him nevertheless, lying down in front of him, and mewing piteously up in his face. When, to get rid of her importunities, the dog went out, she even followed him to the street, and only ceased pestering him, when her kittens were discovered and brought to her.
Cat Adopting her Grand-Children.—A lady had two cats, mother and daughter, living in the same house with her. The mother was of a quiet, domesticated turn of mind, and preferred fire-side enjoyments to out-of-door sports; but the daughter was quite the reverse. She was a mighty huntress, and it was no uncommon thing, to see her coming waddling across the fields with a rabbit as big as herself in her mouth. Both these cats had kittens at the same time, but the daughter seemed determined, that nursing should not interfere with her hunting expeditions. She was a strong-minded woman’s-rights sort of a cat, and was often scouring the country in pursuit of game, when her poor little family were starving at home. One day she went off as usual, and was never afterwards seen alive: her mangled remains were found a little way down the line, where she had been run over by a railway train.
“We were just about,” says the lady, “to drown the little orphan kits, when, to our surprise, we found that old grandmamma puss had adopted her ill-fated daughter’s children, and was nursing and tending them, with the same amount of care and attention she bestowed on her own.”
I know an instance where two cats, resident in the same house, had had kittens on the same day. There being no chance of finding homes for so many, they were all drowned with the exception of three. Now these two mother-cats were wise in their day and generation. No one cat, they thought, could nurse and suckle ten kits, and it was equally evident that three kittens did not require the services of two cats. So they concluded that the best plan would be to put the shattered remains of the two families,—“Your one kitty, Mrs. Tom, and my two,”—together in one bed, and take turn about in nursing them. This was accordingly done, and turned out to be a very satisfactory arrangement for all parties concerned; for either cat could now go abroad when she pleased, happy in the thought that nothing could go wrong at home.
Nursing a Hare.—A certain carpenter whom I knew had a cat which in due season,—as all cats will,—produced a litter of kittens which—very cruel and thoughtless was the action—were all drowned. Poor pussy mourned her offspring for many days, but she was a female philosopher—that may seem a paradox, but she was; so she communed with herself on her bed at night, thus,—
“My inhuman master has most unfeelingly slain all my pretty little babes, and has not left me one; but he cannot dry up the fountains of a mother’s love, with which my heart runs o’er; besides, I’m taking the milk-fever. But behold, day is gently breaking. I’ll seek the mountain, and be it what it may, I’ll have something to love, something to suckle me.”
That day she found, or more probably stole, a fine young hare, which she nursed and reared as tenderly as if it had been one of her own kittens.