Kitabı oku: «The Domestic Cat», sayfa 3
Chapter Six.
The Blue Cat; and Tabbies – Red, Brown, Spotted, and Silver
The Blue cat: just one word about this pretty creature before passing on to the Tabbies. Although she is called a blue cat, don’t fancy for a moment that ultramarine is anywhere near her colour, or himmel-blue, or honest navy serge itself. Her colour is a sad slate-colour; I cannot get any nearer to it than that.
Apart from her somewhat sombre appearance, this cat makes a very nice pet indeed; she is exceedingly gentle and winning, and I’m sure would do anything rather than scratch a child. But the less children have to do with her the better, for all that: for this simple reason – she is a cat of delicate constitution – all that ever I knew were so, at least, and I daresay my readers can corroborate what I say.
Merits. – Their extreme gentleness is one merit, and their tractability and teachability are others. A pure blue cat is very rare, and they are greatly prized by their owners.
Points. – 1. Size: They are rather under-sized, never being much larger than the pure tortoiseshell.
2. Head: The head is small and round, and the eyes are prettiest when of a beautiful orange-yellow. The nose should be tipped with black.
3. Pelage: Moderately long and delightfully soft and sheeny.
4. Colour: This is the principal point. It is, as I said, a nice cool, slate-grey, and, like the black cat, our blue pussy must be all one colour, without a hair of white anywhere. Even her whiskers must be of the same colour as her fur.
Points of the Blue Cat.
Size, 5.
Head, 5.
Pelage, 10.
Colour, 30.
Total, 50.
We now come to the Tabbies – the real old English cats – the playmates of our infant days and sharers of our oatmeal porridge. They are the commonest of all cats, and justly so, too, for there is hardly anything they don’t know, and nothing they can’t be taught, bar conic sections, perhaps, the Pons Asinorum, and a few trifles of that ilk. You will find a tabby cat wherever you go, and you will find her equally at home wherever she is – whether sitting on the footstool on the cosy hearthrug, singing duets with the tea-kettle; catching birds and rabbits in the woods, or mice in the barn; conducting a concert for your especial benefit on the neighbouring tiles at twelve o’clock at night; examining the flower seeds you lately sowed in the garden to see if they are budding yet; or locked, quite by accident, into the pigeon loft.
The first cat of the Tabby kind which claims our attention is the Red or Sandy Tabby.
This is a very beautiful animal, and quite worthy of a place in the best drawing-rooms in the land. Although they do not grow to the immense size of some of our brown tabbies, still they are better hunters, much fiercer, and of a hardier constitution. They much prefer out-of-door sport, and will attack and slay even the polecat and weasel; and instances have been known of their giving battle to the wild cat himself.
Merits. – They are the prettiest of pets, and the honestest of all cat kind. They are such good ratters that neither mice nor rats will frequent the house they inhabit.
Points. – 1. Size: They ought to be as large as possible, and not clumsy; they are generally neater cats all over than the Brown Tabbies.
2. Head: The head should be large and broad, with rather shortish ears, well placed, and the face ought to beam with intelligence and good nature. The eyes should be deep set, and a nice yellow colour.
3. Pelage: The coat is generally short in nearly all the Tabbies, but ought to be sleek and glossy.
4. Colour and markings: The colour is a light sandy red, barred and striped with red of a darker, deeper hue. No white. The stripes or markings ought to be the same on both sides, and even the legs ought to be marked with cross bars, and one beautiful swirl, at least, across the chest. This is called the Lord Mayor’s Chain, and when the cat has two, give him extra points.
Points of the Red Tabby.
Size, 10.
Head, 5.
Colour and markings, 30.
Pelage, 5.
Total, 50.
Next comes the Brown Tabby.
This is the largest of all breeds of cats, fourteen, seventeen, and even twenty pounds a common weight. They are also, when well marked and striped, exceedingly beautiful. Of all cats they are the best adapted for house-hunting, being less addicted to wandering than some breeds.
Merits. – Their hunting proclivities. Their fondness for children is sometimes quite remarkable. I have known many instances of Brown Tom Tabbies, so fierce that scarce any one dare lay a finger on them unscathed, but a little child of four years of age could do anything with them, lug them about anyhow, and even carry them head down, over its shoulder by the tail. They are, moreover, nice, loving, kind-hearted pets, and exceedingly fond of their master and mistress. They are the cats of all cats to make a family circle look cosy and complete around the fire of a winter’s night.
Points. – 1. Size: It will be observed below that I give fifteen points for size. The bigger your Brown Tom Tabby is the better he looks, if the one-half of it isn’t fat, for if so he won’t be graceful, and that is one essential point. I can find a Tabby at this moment who weighs over twenty pounds, and who will spring from the floor, without scrambling, mind you, clean on to the top of the parlour door, and that is little short of seven feet. I like to see a tabby with a graceful carriage then, and shortish in forelegs, with beautifully well-fitted and rounded limbs, and with a tiger-like walk and mien.
2. Head: Very large and broad and round, ears short, eyes dark, and muzzle broad, not lean, and thin and long. This latter certainly gives him more killing power, but it brings him too near the wild cat. I don’t care how savagely he behaves in a cage at a show, for well I know he is quite a different animal at his own fireside, asleep on the rug in little Alice’s arms, or purring in bed on old Maid Mudge’s virgin bosom.
3. Colour: A nice dark brown or grey ground, and the workings as deeply black as possible. No white.
4. Markings: Like a Bengal tiger, and even prettier. The tail and legs likewise barred. The head striped perpendicularly down the brow, and the marks going swirling round the cheeks. Nose black or brown, and the eyes as dark as possible, and full of fire.
5. Pelage: Short and glossy.
Points of the Brown Tabby.
Size, 15.
Head, 5.
Colour, 10.
Markings, 15.
Pelage, 5.
Total, 50.
Lastly, we have the Silver Tabby and the Spotted Tabby, and in almost all points these may be judged alike.
The Silver Tabby is a sweetly pretty cat. Perhaps the prettiest of all pussies. They are a size smaller than even the best Red Tabbies, and are infinitely more graceful, and quicker in all their motions. They are proud, elegant, aristocratic cats, fond to love and quick to resent an injury.
Merits. – Their special merit is their exceeding beauty. They are somewhat rare, however. Here is a bit of advice to any one who would like to have four really pretty cats about the house, each to show the others to advantage. Get a pure white kitten, a pure black one, a red tabby, and a silver ditto. Take great care in the training of them, be careful in feeding and housing them, and you will have your reward.
The Spotted Tabby is also very pretty. He ought to be a good, sizeable animal, with broad head, short ears, and a loving face; ground colour a dark grey, one dark stripe, and down the spine, and diverging from this stripes of black broken up into spots.
Points. – The Silver Tabby ought to be —
1. In size, less than or about the size of the Red Tabby, and very quick and graceful.
2. Head: Large and shapely, but not so blunt as the Brown Tabby’s; ears short and eyes light.
3. Colour and markings: Of a deep Aberdeen granite, grey in the ground-work, and the markings very dark and beautifully arranged. Don’t forget the Mayor’s Chains.
4. Pelage: Longish, if anything; but not so long as to make the judge suspect crossing with the Persian.
Points of Silver and Spotted Tabbies.
Size, 10.
Head, 5.
Colour and markings, 30.
Pelage, 5.
Total, 50.
There are one or two fancy cats I have not mentioned, as the Red-and-white, etc; but I believe I have said enough to make anyone, with a little study and attention, a good judge of the points and qualities of the different breeds of the English domestic cat.
Chapter Seven.
Asiatic Cats
When I was a little boy at school, floundering through Herodotus, and getting double doses of fum-fum daily for my Anabasis – for my old teacher, when he couldn’t get enough Greek into one end of me, took jolly good care to put it in at the other – there was no man I had greater respect for than Alexander the Great, owing to his having done that Gordian knot business so neatly. I practised afterwards on the dominie’s tawse (i.e., the fum-fum strap); I tied a splendid knot on it, and then cut it through with a jack-knife; but, woe’s me! the plaguy dominie caught me in the very act, and – and I had to take my meals standing for a week.
But ever since then I have always been a don at knots; and I give myself no small credit, whether you do or not, reader, for the dexterous manner in which I have polished off the cat-classification knot. There it lay before me, interminable, intricate, incensing; and bother the end could I see to it at all at all. “Draw the sword of Scotland.” Swish! There it lies, the short-haired European pussies on the one hand, and the Asiatic or long-haired on the other.
Among these latter you will find exactly the same colours, and the same variety of markings, as among the European cats proper. We give their points in a general way.
1. Size: The blue cats and the pure white are usually of the smallest dimensions; next comes the black, and lastly the tabbies. Some of these latter grow to immense sizes, and are animals of a beauty which is at times magnificent. The cat that belonged to Troppman, the distinguished French murderer, and now, or lately, possessed by Mr Hincks, of Birmingham, is worth going a day’s journey to behold. Yet, although very large, they are very graceful, too, and can spring enormous distances. Fierce enough, too, they can be when there is any occasion, especially to strangers or dogs.
2. Head: The heads of the white, blue, and black ought to be small, round, and sweet, the expression of the countenance being singularly kind and loving. The heads of the tabbies ought to be broad and large, and not snouty. The whiskers of both ought to be very long, and of a colour to match the general tone. The ears have this peculiarity – they are slightly bent downwards and forwards, which gives rather a pensive character to their beauty. They are, moreover, graced by the aural tuft. The eyes must also match; and this is what I like to see – a blue eye in a white Persian, a hazel in a black, and a lovely sea-green in a tabby.
3. The Pelage: The pelage is long (the longer the better), especially around the neck and a-down the sides; and a good brush, gracefully swirled and carried, is an essential point of beauty. The fur ought to be as silken as possible; this shows that the cat is not only well-bred, but well-fed and taken care of.
4. Markings: They ought to be as distinct as possible, as pretty as possible, and evenly laid on with reference to the two sides.
5. Colour: All white in the pure white, all black in the black, and so on with the other distinct colours; and for the tabbies the same rules hold good as those given for short-haired tabbies.
General rules for judging Asiatic Cats. – First scan your cats, remembering the difference in size you are to expect in tabbies from the others. Next see to the length and texture of the pelage – its glossiness, and its freedom from cinder-holes, or the reverse. Then note the colour, and the evenness or unevenness of the markings. The head most be carefully noted, as to its size and shape, the colour of the eyes and nose, ditto the whiskers; mark, too, the lay of the ear, and its aural tuft. In the tabbies the Mayor’s Chain should swirl around the chest. Lastly, take a glance at the expression of face.
Merits of the Asiatic Cats. – I think every cat-fancier will bear me out in saying that, although more delicate in constitution than our European short-hairs, and hardly so keen at mousing, ratting, or so fierce in fighting larger game, there can be no doubt of it they make far nicer pets. They are extremely affectionate and loving in their dispositions, and so fond of other animals, such as dogs, pet rabbits, guinea-pigs, etc. Their love for a kind master or mistress only ends with life itself. Then they are so beautiful and so cleanly, and, if kept in a clean room, take such care of their lovely pelage, that I only wonder there are not more of them bred than there are. They are a little more expensive at first. You can seldom pick up a good kitten at a show under one pound sterling – but if you do succeed in getting one or two nice ones, I am quite certain you will never have to repent it, if you only do them ordinary justice.
It will be well to end this chapter here; but before doing so, I beg to make one or two remarks, which I feel sure will interest secretaries of coming cat-shows.
1. In all shows give the cats nice roomy pens, whether of wood or zinc.
2. Attend well to the ventilation, and more especially to disinfection.
3. Attend to the feeding, and, at a more than one-day show, cats ought to have water as well as milk. I think boiled lights, cut into small pieces, with a very small portion of bullock’s liver and bread soaked, is the best food; but I have tried Spratt’s Patent Cat Food with a great number of cats, both of my own and those of friends, and have nearly always found it agree; and at a cat-show it would, I believe, be both handy and cleanly.
4. On no account let the pussies lie on the bare wood or zinc, but provide each with a cushion of some sort, and have a small box filled with earth or sand, in each pen. Sawdust in a cat’s cage is an abomination. It soils the fur, and gets into the food-dish, and renders pussy simply miserable.
Chapter Eight.
On Diet, Drink, and Housing
“Throw physic to the dogs,” said the immortal William. That was a good many years ago, and dogs then were of very little value, and little used either to physic or good treatment; but nowadays we have found out that the possession of even a cat, entails upon us the duty and responsibility of seeing she is well cared for while in health, and properly treated in sickness. I recommended small doses of quinine and steel to an unwell pussy the other day.
“Ma conscience!” cried her owner; “gie medicine to a cat! Wha ever heard o’ the like?”
I’m sorry that woman was Scotch, but glad to say I reasoned even her round, and her cat is now as sleek and lively as the day is long.
Most, if not all the diseases which feline flesh is heir to, are brought on by bad feeding, starvation, or exposure to the weather, especially the cruel custom many people have of leaving their poor cats out all night, to seek for food and shelter for themselves. These are the cats who make night hideous with their howling, who tear up beautiful flowerbeds, rob pigeon-lofts, murder valuable rabbits, and, in a general way, do all they can to bring into disrepute the whole feline race. I declare to you honestly, there is as much difference between one of these night-prowlers and a well-cared-for cat, as there is between one of the lean and mangy curs who do scavengers’ duty in Cairo, and a champion Scottish Collie.
Some men will tell you that it is unmanly to love or care for a cat; just as if it could be unmanly to love anything that God made and gifted with sagacity, wisdom, and undying love for all the human race! But I can point you out scores of men who are good sportsmen, fearless huntsmen, and fond of every manly sport – ay, and men, too, who are at home on the stormiest ocean, and never pale when fired upon in anger – who can both pride and prize a favourite cat. At Exeter, not long since, out of thirty-nine owners of cats, all were men except nine, and of these nine seven were married, and the two others were young ladies, while the owner of the first-prize cat was a gallant soldier. So much for the notion that only old maids care for cats.
Before going on to describe the diseases which afflict pussydom, we must give a few general instructions regarding her treatment while well.
And first, as to her food. Pussy will catch a mouse, and after playing with it for half an hour in a way which is very cruel, but no doubt makes it very tender, she will generally kill and eat it; but it by no means follows that mice are the cat’s natural food. The majority of cats catch mice more for the love of sport than anything else. Nothing, therefore, is more cruel than to starve poor pussy, with the erroneous idea that it will make her a good mouser; it is just the reverse. My Phiz bids me say that mice-catching is long, weary, anxious work at the best, and she is quite certain she would die if compelled to make a living at it.
Feed your pussy well, then, if you would have her be faithful and honest, and keep your house clear of mice and rats.
I have lived a good deal in apartments in my time, and I have always avoided places where there was a lean and hungry-looking cat. It is a sure sign of irregularity and bad housekeeping.
Twice a day is often enough, but not too often, to feed your cat, and it is better to let her have her allowance put down to her at once, instead of feeding her with tid-bits. Nothing can be better for pussy’s breakfast than oatmeal porridge and sweet milk. Entre nous, reader, nothing could be better for your own breakfast. Oatmeal is the food of both mind and matter, the food of the hero and the poet; it was the food of Wallace, Bruce, and Walter Scott, and has been the food of brave men and good since their day.
“Oh! were I able to rehearse
Scotch oatmeal’s praise in proper verse,
I’d blaw it oot as loud and fierce,
As piper’s drones could blaw, man.”
But I cannot wonder for a single moment at this favourite Scottish food being in disrepute in England, because hardly anyone knows how to make it. Our cook at sea once undertook to supply our mess with a daily matutinal meal of porridge, and of oatcakes too. He was sure he could make them, because his “father had once lived in Scotland.” Nevertheless, I gave him some additional information, and we, the Scottish officers, of whom there were two or three besides myself, were in high glee, and took an extra turn on deck the first morning, to give us a good appetite for the great coming double event. Then down we bolted to our porridge. Porridge! save the name, such a slimy, thin, disgusting mess you never saw! Well might our chief engineer call out:
“Tak’ it awa’, steward, tak’ it awa’; it would scunner (sicken) the de’il himsel’!”
“But, hurrah!” I cried, “there’s the oatcakes to come. Steward, where are the oatcakes?”
The steward lifted the cover from the dish on which was wont to repose our delicious “’spatch cock,” or savoury curry, and there, lo and behold! half-a-dozen things of the shape and thickness of a ship’s biscuit, black, and wet, and steaming, and we were supposed to eat them with a knife and fork! Meanwhile the ham and eggs were fast disappearing among the Englishmen at the other end of the table, and we poor Scots had to go without our breakfast, and get laughed at into the bargain.
But here, now, I’ll tell you what I’ll do for you, as Cheap Jack says – I’ll give you a receipt by which you shall live a hundred years, and begin your second century a deal stronger than you began your first. Buy your meal from the meal-shop – no, not the chemist, my dear – taste it to make sure it has no “nip;” see, also, that it is fresh, and not ground before Culloden, and buy it neither too fine nor too round, but just a happy medium. Having thus caught your hare, so to speak, go home with it, and put a saucepan on a clear fire, with a pint of beautiful spring-water, into which throw a teaspoonful, or more, of salt, and a dessert spoonful of oatmeal. This is essential. Then sit down and read till the water boils. Now take your “spurckle” or “whurtle” in your right hand – I don’t know the English of “spurckle” or “whurtle,” but it is a round piece of wood, rather thicker than your thumb and not so long as your arm, and you never see it silver-mounted – and commence operations. You stir in the meal very gradually, to prevent its getting knotted, and you occasionally pause to let it boil a moment, and you continue this until the porridge is quite thick, and the bubbles rise into small mountains ere they escape, with a sound between a “whitch” and a “whirr,” which is in itself a pleasure to listen to. And now it is ready, and you have only to pour it into a large soup-plate, sprinkle a little dry oatmeal over the top of it, and set it aside until reasonably cold. You eat it with a spoon – not a fork – and with nice sweet milk. “A dish fit for a king,” you say; “A dish fit for the gods!” I resound. Now, having told you all this, I feel I have well deserved of my country; and I’m not above accepting – a hamper at any time.
Bread-and-milk, soaked, is the next best thing for pussy; and at dinner you must let her have a wee bit of meat. Lights, boiled and cut in pieces, are best, but horseflesh isn’t bad; but you mustn’t give her too much of either, or you will induce diarrhoea. Give her fish, occasionally, as a treat. If pussy is a show cat, a little morsel of butter, given every day, after dinner, will make her dress her jacket with surprising regularity.
Now, as to what she drinks, a well-bred cat is always particular, and at times even fastidious; but two things they must have – water and milk. They will often prefer the former to the latter. But do keep their dishes clean. Disease is often brought on from neglect of this precaution. Cats will drink tea or beer, and I have seen a Tom get as drunk as a duke on oatmeal and whisky. An old lady, an acquaintance of mine, has a fine red-and-white Tom, and whenever he is ailing she gives him “just a leetle drop o’ brandy, sir.” Tom, I think, must have had two little drops o’ brandy yesterday, when he rode my fox-terrier, Princie, all round the paddock. Those naughty drops o’ brandy!
Just one word about housing. There is no more objectionable practice than that of turning your cat out of doors at night, and none more certain to engender disease and spoil your pussy’s morals. If you have taken the least pains to train your cat to habits of cleanliness, she will never misbehave herself. Keep her in at night, then, and you’ll have her in health; keep her in if you want to run no risk of getting her poisoned; keep her in, and the neighbours will bless you. Don’t lock her into a room, though, unless she has an attic to herself. Let her have the run of the house from basement to roof. Give pussy a bed to lie on, or let her find one for herself, which she has a happy knack of doing, as I daresay more than one of my readers can testify. My pretty Phiz needn’t have kittened in my cocked hat, nevertheless.
So much, then, for the prevention of disease. We will now come to diseases themselves. But just let me impress upon your mind, reader, this fact – that attention to your pussy’s housing, drink, and the cleanliness and regularity of her diet, will almost certainly prevent her from getting sick.
