After Booker’s departure, for more than a week his friend Molly came over every morning to look for him. She would meow first at the back door, then at the front door, and not receiving any response, would climb up on the different window ledges and call for her friend. But after a while she fell in with a new cat by the name of Goldie, and he, in time, came to fill Booker’s place in her affections.
A word about Goldie: One cold winter evening mistress brought home in a bag a yellow tiger cat, which I thought from his appearance must have come from the very slums of catdom. He was all bedraggled with mud, and his face resembled that of a sore-eyed poodle. But after a bath, oh, what a difference! Then it turned out that the stranger had a beautiful fluffy coat of sunshiny yellow and white, with brown stripes intermingled, and the name “Goldie” was thought none too nice for him. The very first neighbor that saw him was ready to adopt him, and this was Mrs. Gafney, the mother of our little friends George and Doris. And there Goldie is to-day, a delightful playmate, and an all-around household treasure.
I noticed during the first few days Goldie was with us that he would not allow any one to touch his tail, and would claw and scratch whoever attempted to touch it, even in a friendly way. Mistress tried her best to teach Goldie better manners by scratching him on the head and gradually going farther down his back. But just as soon as she got near his tail, Goldie would begin to eye her suspiciously, and indeed poor mistress’ hands were a network of scratches before she had gained Goldie’s confidence enough so that he no longer dug his fierce claws into her flesh.
I was very curious to know what caused Goldie to act so, and at the first opportunity I asked him the reason.
“Reason enough,” said he. “If you had had your tail pinched and twisted as mine has been by a cowardly sneak of a boy, you would be wary too. But I finally tired of such a life and started out in search of a better home.”
“And how were you so fortunate as to fall into the hands of our mistress?” said Budge, who had come to hear Goldie’s story.
“Fortunate, I should say it was fortunate,” said Goldie. “I will tell you all about it. After tramping from door to door for several days, and sleeping under barns and coal sheds, one evening I followed two ladies up to a beautiful house. But evidently they had not noticed me, for as soon as they entered, the door was shut, and I was left behind. I felt very badly, especially as I had learned from their conversation that they were friends of cats. As I sat there on the porch-rail wondering what next to do, I noticed that it was not a very great distance to a brilliantly lighted window, and being anxious to attract the attention of those ladies I made a bold leap and landed safely on the window-sill. There in that beautiful room sat four ladies, and a gentleman, and one of the ladies came at once to the window and begged the gentleman to open it. He did so, and I heard him say something about a ‘poor apology for a cat’ as he took me in and set me on a rug. Then one and another began talking about me in a way that was anything but complimentary, while the lady that had asked to let me in sat on the floor beside me, looking me over, and occasionally rubbing my nose and head.
“I felt that I had at last found a friend, and sure enough, when it was time to go home, she asked for a laundry bag to carry me in, saying she would give me a bath and prepare me for a home because I was a very nice cat. And that is how I was brought here that evening.”
Before Goldie went to live with George and Doris, he spent some very happy days with us. He was a fine mouser, and was always rummaging around the barn over in the corn-field. Of course he never succeeded in catching any mice for the simple reason that the barn is too close to our premises, and no mouse could exist there for a single day.
And now speaking of mice, let me say right here: never expect a poorly-fed, ill-treated cat to catch them, because such a cat in time loses her sense of smell so completely that she is unable to scent mice at all. But on the other hand, the better you treat her, the more she will do for you in return.