[See Note G, Addenda.]
HONEST CATS.
Numerous instances of the honesty of well-trained cats might be given. My own cat and travelling companion Muffie, has always taken her place on the table at meals, and I have never had reason to repent of the indulgence. Even should I leave the room for half an hour, nothing could tempt her to lay a paw upon anything; neither will she allow any one else, not even the waiter, to touch the viands without my permission. If I go to sleep on the sofa, she immediately mounts guard over me, and it would be very incautious in any one to come within reach of her nails. All sorts of property she guards just the same, and of my starling she is particularly careful.
A gentleman of my acquaintance used to have a cat, which brought home wild rabbits almost daily, but he knew his master’s tame ones, and many a romp and rough-and-tumble they had together on the lawn. Tom’s master had a mavis. This bird did not live in a cage, but roamed about the house at its own sweet will; yet pussy never made any attempt to injure it; in fact, seemed to like it. What was most singular, the cat was in the constant habit of bringing in live birds,—sparrows, larks, and sometimes even a mavis, which she quietly devoured beside Dickie, he standing on the floor in front of her, looking on and whistling to himself. Birds being the natural prey of the cat, the foregoing anecdote just shows to what a high state of training they can be brought, and how well worthy pussy is of being trained. There is as much too in the breeding, as in the educating; for you always find that honest cats have honest kittens, and vice versÂ. Of course it is contrary to nature to expect a cat to live on terms of intimacy with a bird and not sometimes make a mistake.
An old toll-keeper, in Stirlingshire, had a favourite cat and a pet canary at the same time. Living all alone, and having plenty of spare time, he had the pussy taught to allow the bird to take any liberties with her he chose, and to perch on her back or head whenever he had a mind. Indeed, Dickie was seldom in his cage, when he could be with the cat. Many people came to see them; and to remove all scepticism the toll-man used to open the cage-door, when the bird would immediately fly out, alight on pussy’s head, and at once burst into song. One day, when working in his garden, a cat passed Mr. Tolly, apparently in a vehement hurry, with a bright yellow bird in its mouth, and hurried away towards the wood. “Losh!” said Tolly, sticking his spade in the ground and scratching his poll, “that can never be my cat surely!” and “Lord, have a care o’ me!” he added; “that can never surely be my bird.” With a beating heart he rushed towards the house, and there got proof positive it was both his cat and his bird; for the cage-door was open, and puss and Dick had both disappeared. It was a case of elopement, or rather abduction of the most forcible nature. Poor Tolly was now a very lonely man indeed; for, well aware of the heinous nature of the crime she had committed, and afraid of the consequences, the cat never returned.
“In our city house,” writes a lady to me, “we have a fine grey and black cat. This cat is the most honest of creatures, and guards our larder from the predatory inroads of the neighbour’s cats. On one occasion a stray cat was observed to run away with a cold stewed pigeon. Our cat rushed after the thief, and with some difficulty induced it to drop the spoil; she then brought the pigeon back and laid it down at its master’s feet.”
It is by no means an uncommon thing in Scotland, to see a large tabby on a shopkeeper’s counter, kept to look after bigger thieves than rats or mice. Some of these animals I have known to especially hate little boys, and indeed to raise serious objections to their being served at all. I remember one cat in particular, a very large and powerful Tom, who used daily to mount guard on the counter, to protect his master’s wares. He used to walk up and down, generally keeping close to the shopkeeper, and his quick eye on the customer. If the latter paid the money down, he was allowed to take up and pocket the articles; but if he put a finger on any little package before paying, Tom’s big paw was down on him at once, a hint that never required repeating to the same customer. It is almost needless to say that Tom himself was the pink of everything that was fair and honest; he was never, under any circumstances, known to steal. One day, the merchant had gone for a few minutes into the back shop, leaving Tom sitting, apparently asleep, beside a large piece of butter, which had just been weighed. An urchin, who happened to be passing, seeing the state of affairs—the coast clear and the sentry asleep—determined not to let slip so golden an opportunity; he had a large piece of oat-cake in his hand. He would butter that at least, he thought. He had just got the knife stuck into the butter, when, quick as lightning, Tom nabbed him. Deeply in, through the skin, went the cat’s claws, and loudly screamed the urchin. Tom raised his voice in concert, but held fast, and the duet quickly brought the shopkeeper to the spot. Tom appeared to have great satisfaction in seeing that little Arab’s ears boxed.
I know an instance of a cat, which brought home a live canary in its mouth, which she presented to her mistress. The bird was put in a cage, and turned out a great pet; and pussy and the bird were always great friends; the cat one day punishing severely a stray puss that had been guilty of the unpardonable crime of looking at the canary.
