Probably no creature has been more calumniated by man than the Domestic Cat. While wonderful intellectual powers, as well as the most amiable traits of character, have been accredited to the dog, and rightly so, it seems rather strange that so little of good has been found to exist in the subject of our sketch. She has been held up to reprobation as a thoroughly selfish animal, seeking her own comfort rather than that of others, and manifesting a stronger attachment to places than to owners. Sly and treacherous as her untamed kindred of the forests and jungles are known to be, she receives no higher commendation, and is even accused of concealing her talons in her velvety paws when matters go pleasantly with her, and ready to use them even upon her best friends when crossed in her purposes.
Whatever may have been the experience of those who have so grossly libelled the Cat, my own large acquaintance with the animal has led to different conclusions. Nearly all the Cats with which I have been most familiar have been as docile, tractable and affectionate as any dog could be, and have exhibited an amount of intellectual ability unsurpassed by few dogs. There is as much to be said about the good and bad temper of the Cat as of the dog, while, as to her mental capacities, the advantage is not so decidedly upon the side of the dog as is generally supposed. Nor is my own experience exceptional, for in all instances where friends have possessed favorite Cats their experiences have been similar to my own.
Self is not always paramount to everything else with Cats. Some are generous to a fault. Mothers have been known, whose devotion to their young has been so strong that they have hunted all day for their benefit, even when the latter were full-grown, scarcely taking any nourishment for themselves. But such feelings are perfectly natural. When, however, we see a Cat that is willing to share its food with a stranger, one cannot resist the thought that here is a case of real generosity. A friend once possessed a fine black Cat. He was dainty in his eating, scrupulously exact in his dress, and well-mannered in his deportment. No Cat ever received better training. Unlike the average Cat, he could be trusted in the presence of tempting viands, and was never known to abuse the confidence reposed in him. Beauty, for so he was called, was a model fellow, and well deserved the name. The education he received, while it made him gentle, kind and affectionate, and gave him reliability of character, did still more, for it endowed him with a soul that was not a stranger to the noblest impulses. Life had few luxuries that he did not enjoy; but a sprig of catnip was more to him than the choicest steak or raciest tidbit, and to this luxury he was weekly treated. Notwithstanding his fondness for the herb, he was never reluctant to share it with another, whom Fortune had less favored.
Cats, at least such as are well circumstanced, possess some knowledge of the uses of things. We once knew a Cat that would, when out of doors, make its presence known by a few loud raps upon the closed door, administered by its right front paw. If the call was not immediately answered, a few more raps, louder than before, would be given, and then the Cat, unable to restrain its impatience, would spring up to the latch, striking it a downward blow, as though endeavoring, human-like, to effect an entrance.
But quite as interesting as any of the foregoing cases is that of a female Cat that had run a spine into one of her hind feet. Limping upon three legs she made her way to her mistress, and, raising her foot, implored with a piteous look and sad, distressing cries the removal of the offensive spine. A child could not have made its suffering better understood, nor supplicated the needed relief more intelligently, than did this poor creature, which thoughtless man in his self-glorification is so prone to regard as a senseless, unintelligent and unreasoning being, which has no existence beyond this sublunary sphere.
TOM ON DUTY.
Guarding His Master’s Cows.
While Cats are useful in the destruction of vermin, and afford man no little amusement by their wonderful antics, yet they seldom put themselves to any practical use. The Cat, about which we shall now have something to say, is an exception to the rule, and quite a marvel in his ways. He is a resident of a far-away town in New Jersey, and came to his present quarters a long, gaunt, wild-eyed, unfed creature. But something in his looks told of a soul within that fore-shadowed a great deal of good, and so the Cat, which at first seemed an unwelcome guest, began to be looked upon in an appreciative manner. And now Tom, as the Cat is called, is a fixture in the household.
Almost from his advent into the family Tom began to give an exhibition of his common-sense. This first remarkable show of intelligence was on the Sunday succeeding his adoption. The family had repaired to church, leaving Tom contentedly snoozing in a corner of the kitchen. But their surprise can hardly be pictured when in the midst of the sermon Tom came flying down the aisle to the place where his master was seated, and clawing the legs of the trousers of the latter, began yelling at the top of his voice. The minister stopped in the midst of his talking, and everybody got up to see what the trouble was, but Tom, utterly oblivious of them all, continued his strange behavior.
Convinced that the actions of the Cat were not the result of an epileptic fit, but foreboded something wrong at the house, the male portion of the congregation started thither, and when the house was reached a dense column of smoke was seen pouring from the kitchen window. The door was thrown open, and the carpet on the floor was found burned to a cinder. A coal of fire had evidently fallen from the stove-grate and started the fire. That Tom had understood the danger, was shown by his actions.