Daisy: the autobiography of a cat

by Miranda Eliot Swan

She had got so attached to her friend by this time that she did not relish being out of her room at all, and early in the morning she would be up at the door, crying like a child to be let in, if the door was closed.

It was a very great trial to this kind-hearted lady, for she could not keep Blackie all the time, and knowing she would be away in summer some months, she was very unhappy about leaving Blackie. She tried to interest the people in the house in her, but it was of no use. The mistress of the house hated Blackie, frequently threatening to get rid of her. She dared not offend her boarder, so she contented herself with abuse of the poor cat on the sly. She did not half feed her, but the cat knew where she could always get food, for the kind friend would buy meat for her and feed her well. Blackie turned from them all. She did not believe in any one but her kind friend, so it was impossible to help her.

All the lady could do when she went away was to speak for her to all of the people she could in the house, and to give the servants money to buy meat and to be kind to her. But she always left with a heavy heart.

At last Blackie was to have her first kittens. She, with that rare instinct that cats have at such times, established herself on the lounge in her friend's room, and if not forcibly removed, would ignore her hunger rather than go down in quest of food. She was determined her kittens should be born in luxury and under the care of her kind friend. Her friend did not fail her. She provided a nice box, all lined and made soft inside; and although she could not have it in her room, she went down every night to see that Blackie was made comfortable.

Poor Blackie! She had a determined will, and escaped from her box the night her kittens were born, and got up to her friend's door, where she cried, and then lay down as near the door as she could, and bore her pains in silence, like the patient creature she was.

As soon as morning came she was carried down and put in her nice box with the seven little kittens she had borne. Her friend took care that they disposed of them humanely, keeping only one. Blackie never rested till she brought up that kitten and laid it in a large chair; then she felt relieved. She would take it up the two flights of stairs, then put it down at her friend's door, while she mewed and scratched till it was opened to her. She was very happy with her dear little kitten, and truly it was a lovely little creature—a real tiger-striped gray.

Blackie was perfectly at home; she cast off the care of her kitten, and rested and got up her strength in this peaceful element. She had avoided the boy tyrant and hid her kitten away from him, and his mother dared not help him find it, fearing Blackie's friend.

The kitten was just the smartest little creature. She soon got big enough to go up to her friend's door, and mew just like her mother, and she cuffed and fought Blackie in a way that proved she would be able to defend herself. Her mother was not so fond of her after she began to show her independence. She tried to keep her in subjection, but found her to be unmanageable. When she went out to parties nights, her mother was very morose over it; and when her first kittens were born, she disowned her altogether. She never would stay in the room with her.

The little kittens were all four allowed to live, and were around the kitchen, under people's feet, abused by the children, and Kitty Gray, as the friend called her, was just wild to get them up into her room. But Blackie, their grandmother, drew the line here. She stood on the stairs, and Kittie Gray with her "No Name Series" (as Miss Milly called the kittens) were never allowed up there.

Poor Kittie Gray! She could not understand it. She had had such a happy childhood, and now the change was fearful. From a bright, happy cat she became a snappish, nervous creature, all the time in fear for her kittens. Sometimes Blackie did try to save the poor little creatures from the children, but it was of no use. Their mother hated her because she had defended herself from that boy, and they kicked and cuffed her till she was obliged to abandon the wretched little creatures to their fate, and the boy and girl tortured them just as they pleased. Their mother said Blackie was a thief, stealing things to eat all the time, and she hated her. She said, as soon as her kittens were born, she would get rid of her.