Long-haired cats, as Angola (or Angora) and Persian.—These cats, especially the Angola, are sometimes very fine animals. The hair is very long and silky, forming a thick mane upon the neck and upon the cheeks, and hangs from the sides in a manner which somewhat reminds one of the musk ox. The long tail is likewise pendant with long, silken hair, and when in good order looks very handsome. A good cat of the kind seems almost aware of its own beauty; and we know that puss has the universal reputation of being proud. But these cats require care and a good home. If neglected, exposed, or ill-treated, no animals sooner degenerate. They are, moreover, disposed to become lazy and listless, and, although fashionable in a drawing-room, are not such pleasing companions, or of the same utility as mousers, as are the sleek, agile, graceful, and intelligent animals with which we are more familiar.

Gelded cats often grow very large, and, if properly kept, sometimes live to a great age. They make good, sociable pets, are not inclined to play truant, and they do not smell. The process is not a painful one if properly performed, and an animal thus treated will escape the temptation to stray or to combat with his fellows. At the age of six months, or even a little earlier, is the time at which a kitten should be sent to the veterinary surgeon. But on no account whatever must the operation be attempted upon an animal of more advanced growth. As I have just intimated, one advantage gained is that it will not secrete and eject that characteristic fluid, the pungent odour of which is well known, and is, to some persons, very offensive.


CHAPTER VI.

ON THE DISEASES OF CATS.

I must now endeavour to describe a few of the ailments to which pussy is liable, and by pointing out the cause, when possible, may hope to assist the kind reader in avoiding the evil effect, bearing in mind the well-known proverb, Prevention is better than cure.

Considering the careless feeding to which the cat is often subjected, her digestive organs must be somewhat enduring; but, on this account, they must not be overtaxed or disregarded. There is a very simple medicine to which puss will instinctively resort occasionally, which is grass. In an old translation of Pliny may be found the following quaint prescription for the cure of a sick lion:—

“The lion is never sicke but of the peevishness of his stomache, loathing all meat: and then the way to cure him is to ty unto him certaine shee apes, which, with their wanton mocking and making mowes at him, may move his patience, and drive him, from the very indignitie of their malapert saucinesse, into a fit of madnesse, and then, so soon as he hath tasted their bloud, he is perfectly wel againe: and this is the only help.”

Now, without the aid of a violent remedy such as the above-prescribed, Miss Puss can stroll quietly out of doors and help herself to a small quantity of selected grass. This simply acts medicinally as either an emetic or as a purgative. It has been my practice, when keeping cats confined, to have some fresh, healthy grass in a large flower-pot in the most sunny spot, and sometimes put out in the open garden, so as to receive the benefit of all the light, air, and sunshine available.