PARLIAMENTARY PROTECTION FOR THE DOMESTIC CAT.

Now, after reading the chapter on cruelty to cats, surely every honest man and kind-hearted lady in the land will agree with me in thinking, that it is high time our Legislature should do something to put an end to the persecutions against, and to protect, our very useful pet pussy. Laws have been framed for the good of horses, dogs, and game; nay, even the very wild birds of the field have their friends in Parliament; but the poor cat is left out in the cold.

In the columns of a paper called The Bazaar, a few months ago, a correspondence was kept up for several weeks on the subject of “Cat Extermination.” No doubt it is highly annoying to have one’s beautiful flower-beds torn up, and one’s pet pigeons and rabbits worried at night by prowling cats. But the methods proposed for their destruction were in some cases diabolical. Poison of all sorts was to be freely used, and sponges dipped in tallow—worse torture than giving a shark a red-hot brick, or a lady’s steel crinoline fastened up with hide—and wire fences, so constructed that the cat might find easy access into a garden, but no egress, and so be torn to pieces with dogs,

“With mair o’ horrible and awfu’,
Which e’en to name would be unlawfu’.”

But I would fain enlist even these men on pussy’s side; not certainly for sake of the cats, but for their own comfort; for no good—unless the gratification of a feeling of revenge—can accrue from attempts at extermination, and only from legislation can they hope to get redress. You may exterminate the Modoc Indians, extirpate the Maories, and annihilate the Ashantees, but you’ll have no chance against the cats. Now, I should ask, nay, claim, parliamentary protection for our domestic cat, for many reasons. Here I shall only mention one or two. First then, because she is a pet—a pet in many a nobleman’s and gentleman’s family, and still more so at many a poor man’s fireside, who cannot afford to maintain any larger domestic animal; and because pussy is so beautiful, so gentle, loving, and kind, and capable of such high training; because she is so affectionate towards her owner; and because she loves the children so. She is, indeed, the pet par excellence of babyhood and infancy. Secondly, because we are Christians, or live in a Christian land; and because the cruelties that are practised every day in our midst, against this defenceless creature are harrowing to all our feelings, and a disgrace to a civilized country.

Thirdly, and lastly at present, because the cat is an animal of great utility.

Putting aside, then, all sentimentality, let us look at the matter in a plain business point of view.

We ought to do all in our power for the protection and improvement, of every domesticated animal under our care, whether kept for use or ornament; no one will think of denying that. But, there is no creature under the sun which is so systematically ill-used, and carelessly treated as pussy. The cause is easily understood: we do not thoroughly appreciate the good the cat does, and, even if we do, being all naturally selfish, we like to have and hold all we can, for the least possible outlay and trouble. Thus, pussy’s services are poorly repaid and ungratefully received, because she is so patient and uncomplaining. If horses or other cattle were treated in like manner, they would quickly deteriorate in value; but the cat, looked upon as a mere vermin-killer, is different, her presence alone, however skinny and lean, being generally enough to frighten away those pests, rats and mice. Indeed, very few of us, I fear, fully appreciate the amount of real good done, or the large amount of valuable property saved annually—in a preventive way alone—by cats. More quickly than almost any other animal, do rats and mice multiply. Take the field-mouse for example (the mus leacopus or the mus sylvaticus), with the nests of which nearly every school-boy is familiar,—

“Those wee bit heaps o’ straw and stubble,
That cost them mony a weary nibble.”

These creatures breed at least four or five times a year; and you seldom find fewer than seven little baby-mice in each nest. The mischief these creatures sometimes work in grass fields, and in fields of newly-sown grain, is almost incalculable. Whole acres have been known to be destroyed in a single night. Cats are the greatest enemies these creatures have: they destroy them young and old, by the dozen, for mere sport—they seldom care to eat them.

In-doors, again, what would the baker, the miller, the draper, the grocer, or even the bookseller do, without his cat?

There is no prettier ornament, I think, a shop-window can have, than an honest-looking sleek Tom tabby.

“Yes, sir,” a hosier said to me the other day; “I do like my cat. I shan’t tell you, because you could not be expected to believe it, not being a business man, how much money I lost two years ago in one winter, by rats alone. I tried everything, traps and poison, in vain, and was forced to fall back on pussy after all.”

A Scotch miller, plagued with rats, and hearing that music would frighten them away, hired a couple of Highland bag-pipers to play in the mill for two whole nights. (See Note Q, Addenda.)

“Of course,” he said, “the lads and lasses gathered from every corner, and it cost me oceans o’ whisky; but those rats kent good music, I verily believe they danced to it. So, failing that, I got twa kittens; and three weeks after, I hadn’t a rat about the place.”

But looking at the matter statistically: it is the very lowest average to say that every cat in this country does away with twenty mice or rats per annum; and, also, on the lowest average, each mouse or rat will destroy one pound’s worth of property a year. Well, there are, in the British Islands, over 4,000,000 cats; that, multiplied by 20, gives an annual saving of £80,000,000 worth of property; and those cats do not take £4,000,000 to keep them alive, not more—at any rate.Surely, then, so useful a friend to man ought to be protected by law. Until, however, the Legislature deems it fit to do something for her, I think it behoves the public in general, and owners of pets and cat-fanciers in particular, to do everything they can to check cruelty to cats, and try to make her life a more comfortable and endurable one. Pussy is very easily kept, and I would, in the name of common humanity, earnestly beseech my readers to try the effect of kindness and regular feeding on the cats they may own, and see how soon it will amply repay them.

Cat shows ought to receive more encouragement than they do at present. Nothing can be better calculated both to foster a love for these beautiful creatures, and increase and perfect the different breeds, than those interesting exhibitions. At present, only a very few of our leading aristocracy, and gentry patronize cat shows. But they are every day becoming more and more popular. Birmingham has emulated the Crystal Palace, and Edinburgh rivals both; and, before very long, I hope to see every town, in the United Kingdom holding its annual show of cats.

Now, every one I have spoken to on the subject, admits that something ought to be done, by the Legislature, for the protection of the domestic cat. The difficulty seems to be where to begin, and what sort of laws to frame. Begin, I say, by putting “a stout heart to a stay brae” (stiff hill), and we are sure to do some good.

The following hints are merely meant to be suggestive, and by no means of a ne plus ultra character. Indeed, I should feel much obliged to my readers, if they would kindly forward to me, their views on this subject.

The law for the destruction of worthless dogs, found straying and begging in the streets, although at first blush it appeared a cruel one, was really both humane and kind to the whole canine race. There were too many useless curs without owners; and there are also Arab cats as well as Arab dogs—thousands on thousands, who never had a home and never will, preferring a nomadic life, because they never knew a better. How can we get rid of this surplus feline population? I would introduce a cat licence. This licence, of course, should cost a mere nominal sum, what indeed even the poorest man who was able to afford food for a cat, could easily pay. The licences should be of two kinds, namely:—one for mere utility cats, and the other for valuable cats, household pets, etc. The first to cost one shilling and threepence, the other two shillings. A cat’s collar to be presented to the owner on payment of the fee; the collar stamped and numbered. The shilling licence collar to be dark; the other of coloured material. In the event of a cat being wantonly killed, a fine to be inflicted, of not more than £5 for the first class, and £10 for the second class of licence. This would have a salutary effect in checking the present trade of cat-skin hunting.

A place would be required in every town, or district, where all cats found straying without a collar could be taken, and if not claimed within three or four days, to be either sold, given away, or destroyed. Cats found doing damage to gardens, poultry, rabbit warrens, or pigeon lofts, to be captured if possible, and the owners made to pay damages. All cases of cruelty to cats to be punished by fines, etc.

Starving cats to be penal. I should have an inspector to visit every house once or twice a year, and see that the cats were in good condition. The revenue from this tax would be over £200,000 a year. I recommend it to the attention of Mr. Lowe.

These are only a few crude suggestions, which may be very much improved upon; one thing at least is certain, the law ought to protect the domestic cat.