ARE CATS INTELLIGENT?
[To max EDITOR OF THZ " IBrzcrAmoR.:9 SIR,—We are the proud possessors of a certain silky long- haired black cat, with charming pathetic yellow eyes like amber. It rejoices in the name of Billy." Billy ' is one of the most intelligent of cats; in fact, she is almost human. She knows the difference between the dressing-bell for dinner and the second bell. If, in the long days, we are out in the garden and hear a bell in the distance, we always know which it is if 'Billy' is with us; if it is the dressing-bell she takes no notice, and if it is the dinner-bell she jumps up and tears off in the direction of the house. She is of a jealous dis- position and cannot brook a rival in our affections. Once we had friends stopping with us, who brought a dog. This made 'Billy' terribly unhappy. She ate double rations, and finally being banished to the stables to look after her tiny kittens, she lay first on one and then the other, till she had flattened all out. The "young lady of Norway" was nothing to it. Then having got rid of her babies, she came proudly into the house, and followed us everywhere, rubbing against us and purring, while she never cast a mew of regret behind her or searched for three nameless graves.
propos of cats, I heard the other day of a cat belonging to a friend who had a great friendship with a dog. When she had kittens she led the dog to them, and he, one by one, took them by the neck and destroyed them, the mother looking on complacently, evidently glad to be rid of " incumbrances,"— the "new women," in fact, or the fashionable mother who cannot be bored with children.
Some years ago we had a kitten given us. It became a great pet and afforded us a great deal of amusement by its funny little ways. One day it was with us in a room upstairs ; there was a balcony leading out of the window. The kitten was playing there and we forgot about it. Suddenly we heard piteous mewing, as if it was in mortal agony. We rushed to the window, but no kitten was in the balcony; at last we found that it had somehow got through the side and fallen on to a ledge below, where it found that descent was easier than ascent. What to do at first we could not think. Then I had a bright idea, which, in spite of ridicule, I proceeded to carry out; in a few words, I got a basket, tied string to it, and let it down over the balcony till it touched the ledge, where puss was still yelling her heart cont. With bated breath I waited anxiously. The kitten crept up to the basket, smelt it, then put in one paw very gingerly, then stuck, then drew it back; this it repeated several times. At last it evidently made up its mind to make the final effort, for somehow it scrambled in, to our joy. Then I began pulling up the basket,—a second Cleopatra drawing up her Antony to the tower. When the kitten arrived safely in the balcony it was much kissed and applauded for the intelligence that made so young a cat so sensible, or human.—
Previous page
