Dogs are taught not to touch game, even when it falls at their feet, till their master gives them permission. Cats would never steal if they knew it was wrong.
Look at my case. After the theft of that meat from the good "philanthropist," I never took anything else. My mistress made me understand wherein it was wrong. I felt very much ashamed, though I could not be blamed. It was one of the most delicious morsels I ever had.
If a cat is not well fed, she will help herself, just as, under the same circumstances, human beings would do the same. It is astonishing how many peculiar traits are brought out when one studies animals.
I heard a story of a cat called Tinker, who lived with a very nice family. They were country people, with a large farm, with horses, cows, dog, and cat, all well cared for, and favorite companions of the children. Nothing was ever killed on that place except rats.
Tinker was a ferocious mouser. She was, however, very fond of all the animals, and the horses would put their heads down to her when she rubbed against their legs. Even the cow did not resent it when she would lick her after she had been milked. They did say that Tinker had been known to help herself to a little, sometimes, before the good Brindle had been milked.
They had hens and chickens in plenty. But they never killed one of their own, always buying their poultry of the farmers around. They were content with selling the eggs in great quantities, for the hens were so well kept that they laid a great many.
Tinker was well fed; and as she had never seen hens and chickens killed, she treated them as if their right to live could not be questioned. She walked out and in the hen-coop whenever she pleased. She had very nice ways, and was never known to go near the pig-pen, that being, in her opinion, not exactly a pleasure ground.
One day the hens were all out in the large field back of the house, when Tinker was walking about on a voyage of discovery. She soon espied three little chickens of a very tender age shivering with cold and sending forth feeble little peeps. She looked around; then mounting on the nest, she sat over them, and they nestled in her warm fur.
Soon a great clacking announced the return of their mother. She was telling all the gossip of the farm to the other hens. She was just as surprised as she could be to see her place filled. She flew at Tinker in great wrath. Tinker just raised her paw and kept her back and sat there as long as she pleased. The mother hen ran about, telling her story to all the coop assembled to see the fun. Even the lordly rooster cocked his comb about, in wise deliberation, over this most unusual occurrence.
The unusual noise drew out the master, who was so well pleased that he called his wife to see Tinker in her position as chicken nurse.