The Third Cat Story Megapack: 25 Frisky Feline Tales, Old and New

by Damien Broderick

  The nuns hearing the bell ring at so unusual an hour, came hurrying into the belfry, wondering what was the matter, when what was their surprise to see the cat turned bell-ringer! They puzzled their heads for some time, till the lay sister who generally gave the cat her meals recollected that she had not been present at dinner-time; and thus the mystery was solved, and Pussy rewarded for her exertions by having her supper brought to her without delay.

  Instead of sitting down and crying when in a difficulty, think, like sensible Pussy, of the best way to get out of it. In lieu of wringing your hands, ring the bell.

  The Affectionate Cat That Could Measure Time

  The last story reminds me of Mrs. F—’s account of the cat and the knocker. That same intelligent little cat was also one of the most affectionate of her race. Her young mistress used to go to school for a few hours daily in the neighboring town. Pussy would every morning sally forth with her, and bound along beside her pony as far as the gate, then going quietly back to the house. Regularly, however, at the time the little girl was expected to return, the faithful pet might be seen watching about the door; and if Missy were delayed longer than usual, would extend her walk to the gate, there awaiting her approach, and evincing her delight by joyful gambols as soon as she descried her coming along the road. Pussy would then hurry back to the house-door, that she might give notice of her young mistress’s return, and the moment she alighted would welcome her with happy purrings and caresses.

  Endeavour to be as regular in all your ways as my friend’s cat. Never keep your friends waiting for you, but rather wait for them. Show your affection and wish to please in this as in other ways. Thank Pussy for the excellent example she has set you.

  The Cat and the Prisoner

  While speaking of the affection of cats, I must not forget to mention a notable example of it shown by the favorite cat of a young nobleman in the days of Queen Elizabeth.

  For some political offence he had been shut up in prison, and had long pined in solitude, when he was startled by hearing a slight noise in the chimney. On looking up, great was his surprise and delight to see his favorite cat bound over the hearth towards him, purring joyfully at the meeting. She had probably been shut up for some time before she had made her escape, and then she must have sought her master, traversing miles of steep and slippery roofs, along dangerous parapets, and through forests of chimney-stacks, urged on by the strength of her attachment, and guided by a mysterious instinct, till she discovered the funnel which led into his prison chamber.

  Certainly it was not by chance she made the discovery, nor was it exactly reason that conducted her to the spot. By whatever means she found it, we must regard the affectionate little creature as the very “Blondel of cats.”

  Never spare trouble or exertion to serve a friend, or to please those you are bound to please. Remember the prisoner’s cat.

  The Cat and the Hawk

  Cats often show great courage, especially in defense of their young.

  A cat had led her kittens out into the sunshine, and while they were frisking around her they were espied by a hawk soaring overhead. Down pounced the bird of prey and seized one in his talons. Encumbered by the weight of the fat little creature, he was unable to rise again before the mother cat had discovered what had occurred. With a bound she fiercely attacked the marauder, and compelled him to drop her kitten in order to defend himself. A regular combat now commenced, the hawk fighting with beak and talons, and rising occasionally on his wings. It seemed likely that he would thus gain the victory; still more when he struck his sharp beak into one of Pussy’s eyes, while he tore her ears into shreds with his talons. At length, however, she managed what had been from the first her aim—to break one of her adversary’s wings. She now sprang on him with renewed fury, and seizing him by the neck, quickly tore off his head. This done, regardless of her own sufferings, she began to lick the bleeding wounds of her kitten, and then, calling to its brothers and sisters, she carried it back to their secure home.

  You will find many hawks with which you must do battle. The fiercest and most dangerous are those you must encounter every day. Huge dark-winged birds of prey—passionate temper, hatred, discontent, jealousy—an ugly list, I will not go on with it. Fight against them as bravely as Pussy fought with the hawk which tried to carry off her kitten.

  The Benevolent Cat

  That we must attribute to cats the estimable virtue of benevolence, Mrs. F— gives me two anecdotes to prove.

  A lady in the south of Ireland having lost a pet cat, and searched for it in vain, after four days was delighted to hear that it had returned. Hastening to welcome the truant with a wassail-bowl of warm milk in the kitchen, she observed another cat skulking with the timidity of an uninvited guest in an obscure corner. The pet cat received the caresses of its mistress with its usual pleasure, but, though it circled round the bowl of milk with grateful purrings, it declined to drink, going up to the stranger instead, whom, with varied mewings, “like man’s own speech,” it prevailed on to quit the shadowy background and approach the tempting food. At length both came up to the bowl, when the thirsty stranger feasted to its full satisfaction, while the cat of the house stood by in evident satisfaction watching its guest; and not until it would take no more could the host be persuaded to wet its whiskers in the tempting beverage.

  Ever think of others before yourself. Attend first to their wants. Do not be outdone in true courtesy by a cat.

  The Cat and Her Many Guests

  Mrs. F— vouches for the following account, showing the hospitable disposition of cats. It was given to her by a clergyman, who had it direct from a friend.

  A gentleman in Australia had a pet cat to which he daily gave a plate of viands with his own hands. The allowance was liberal, and there was always a remainder; but after some time the gentleman perceived that another cat came to share the repast. Finding that this occurred for several consecutive days, he increased the allowance. It was then found to be too much for two; there was again a residue for several days, when a third cat was brought in to share the feast. Amused at this proceeding, the gentleman now began to experiment, and again increased the daily dole of food. A fourth guest now appeared; and he continued adding gradually to the allowance of viands, and found that the number of feline guests also progressively increased, until about thirty were assembled; after which no further additions took place, so that he concluded that all those who lived within visiting distance were included: indeed, the wonder was that so many could assemble, as the district he lived in was far from populous.

  The stranger cats always decorously departed after dinner was over, leaving their hospitable entertainer, no doubt, with such grateful demonstrations as might be dictated by the feline code of etiquette.

  Ask yourselves if you are always as anxious as was the Australian cat to invite your companions to enjoy with you the good things you have given you by kind friends. Ah! what an important lesson we may learn from this anecdote: always to think of others before ourselves. When young friends visit you, do you try your utmost to entertain them, thinking of their comfort before your own? Such is the lesson taught us by this cat, which gathered others of her kind to share the bounties provided by her kind master.

  The Dishonest Cat

  I am sorry to say that cats are not always so amiable as those I have described, but will occasionally play all sorts of tricks, like some dishonest boys and girls, to obtain what they want.

  An Angora cat, which lived in a large establishment in France, had discovered that when a certain bell rang the cook always left the kitchen. Numerous niceties were scattered about, some on the tables and dressers, others before the fire. Pussy crept towards them, and tasted them; they exactly suited her palate. When she heard the cook’s step returning, off she ran to a corner and pretended to be sleeping soundly. How she longed that the bell would ring again!

  At last, like another cat I have mentioned, she thought that she would try to ring it herself
, and get cook out of the way; she could resist her longing for those sweet creams no longer. Off she crept, jumped up at the bell-rope, and succeeded in sounding the bell. Away hurried cook to answer it. The coast was now clear, and Pussy reveled in the delicacies left unguarded—being out of the kitchen, or apparently asleep in her corner, before cook returned.

  This trick continued to answer Pussy’s object for some time, the cook wondering what had become of her tarts and creams, till a watch was wisely set to discover the thief, when the dishonest though sagacious cat was seen to pull the bell, and then, when cook went out, to steal into the kitchen and feast at her leisure.

  There is a proverb—which pray condemn as a bad one, because the motive offered is wrong—that “honesty is the best policy.” Rather say, “Be honest because it is right.” Pussy, with her maneuvers to steal the creams, thought herself very clever, but she was found out.

  Pussy and the Cream-Jug

  I must now tell you of another cat which was a sad thief, and showed a considerable amount of sagacity in obtaining what she wanted. One day she found a cream-jug on the breakfast-table, full of cream. It was tall, and had a narrow mouth. She longed for the nice rich contents, but could not reach the cream even with her tongue; if she upset the jug, her theft would be discovered. At last she thought to herself, “I may put in my paw, though I cannot get in my head, and some of that nice stuff will stick to it.”

  She made the experiment, and found it answer. Licking her paw as often as she drew it out, she soon emptied the jug, so that when the family came down they had no cream for breakfast. A few drops on the tablecloth, however, showed how it had been stolen—Pussy, like human beings who commit dishonest actions, not being quite so clever as she probably thought herself.

  The Revengeful Cat

  Cats often show that they possess some of the vices as well as some of the virtues of human beings. The tom-cat is frequently fierce, treacherous, and vindictive, and at no time can his humor be crossed with impunity. Mrs. F— mentions several instances of this.

  A person she knew in the south of Ireland had severely chastised his cat for some misdemeanor, when the creature immediately ran off and could not be found. Some days afterwards, as this person was going from home, what should he see in the center of a narrow path between walls but his cat, with its back up, its eyeballs glaring, and a wicked expression in its countenance. Expecting to frighten off the creature, he slashed at it with his handkerchief, when it sprang at him with a fierce hiss, and, seizing his hand in its mouth, held on so tightly that he was unable to beat it off. He hastened home, nearly fainting with the agony he endured, and not till the creature’s body was cut from the head could the mangled hand be extricated.

  An Irish gentleman had an only son, quite a little boy, who, being without playmates, was allowed to have a number of cats sleeping in his room. One day the boy beat the father of the family for some offence, and when he was asleep at night the revengeful beast seized him by the throat, and might have killed him had not instant help been at hand. The cat sprang from the window and was no more seen.

  If you are always gentle and kind, you will never arouse anger or revenge. It may be aroused in the breast of the most harmless-looking creatures and the most contemptible. Your motive, however, for acting gently and lovingly should be, not fear of the consequences of a contrary behavior, but that the former is right.

  MAU, by Douglas Menville [Poem]

  I was a cat once:

  Long ago in legendary twilights

  I prowled among moonsilvered sands

  And frisked among sarcophagi

  Secure in furry majesty

  Holy child of Bast

  Kin of kings

  Unkillable

  Divine.

  Under starpowdered skies

  I danced to tempt the Sphinx to share its secret

  Smiling my needled smile

  Knowing its secret was its smile

  Feeling the granite gaze that seemed beyond all things

  Flick down, ruffle me like a breeze,

  And return to Eternity.

  In endless sleeps filled with dream of birds

  And countless meals of choicest meats and cream

  I, small tiger, purred my lovely life away

  Among my worshippers.

  When finally my tiny engine growled to rest

  And Mother Bast, with glowing eyes like suns

  Welcomed me home, I leapt gladly into her love

  Though saddened, not by death, but by the knowledge

  That next time

  I would be only human.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE: “Mau” is the

  ancient Egyptian word for “cat.”

  CAT IN THE BOX, by A. R. Morlan

  From: reneec@msn.com 7-29-01 05:06:25.86

  To: wesrich@msn.com

  Subj: Request for information

  Dear Wes,

  Since when did you get a cat? I was checking out your site before I went to work, and there was this cat (orange stripe, I think) sitting in that box next to your bookcase. He’s adorable, but I thought you mentioned something to whoever (whomever? ;-)) you were having dinner with the night before last about your landlord forbidding anyone at your place from having animals? I think you told her that the landlord was afraid the oak floors might get scratched/ruined.…

  Not that it’s any of my business, I mean it’s not like I’d tell the landlord or anything, but wherever did you get him (her?) s/he’s adorable. What a cute little face! But I would think about putting a blanket or towel in the box. Just a suggestion from one of your livecam fans.…

  * * * *

  From: wesrich@msn.com 7-30-01 09:37:07.76

  To: reneec@msn.com

  Subj: Cat in the box

  Dear ReneeC,

  Ok, Ok, “livecam fan” you got me. You wouldn’t believe how many people log onto my site with messages, suggestions, complaints (about _what_ I’ll let you decide!), et al. but your phantom cat grabbed me. And so, I’m breaking my own rule about emailing back to my “fans” (Jeez, now I know how Brad Pitt must feel, ;-)!). Just this once, tho.

  The “cat” in question must’ve been a trick of the light coming thru my blinds—what you heard me telling my dinner guest (btw, a co-worker, period, as in just for the record) was true. No kitties. In case you didn’t log on last week, I did a scan-pan of my apartment with the digital camera, and on my TV I have one of those gourd kitties, which does happen to be orange-striped, but he’s never been in any box save for the one he came “home” in from the gift shop. Not that I wouldn’t love a cat, tho. I was into them long before Jon had his Garfield. And yes, orange ones are my passion. But last time I looked, the box-by-the-bookcase was empty. Alas. Best to you, and purrs from the TV cat, Wes R.

  * * * *

  From: reneec@msn.com 7-31-01 12:03:01.34

  To: wesrich@msn.com

  Subj: Cat IN box/Not on TV

  Hi, Wes R.,

  I’m flattered that you actually emailed _me_ a reply, but lest you think I’m some kind of web nimrod who gets off on sending joke messages (or spam, or flames), there _is_ a cat in your apartment And his belly isn’t full of dried seeds, either (btw, I have one of those gourd cats, too, only mine is black with white feet-n-face). He was curled up in your erstwhile empty box, licking his feet and belly, stretched out in all sorts of yoga positions which would hamstring a human who tried ’em. He (as I could now see) is just a doll, with one of those wedge-shaped little faces you could stare at all day—big wide-set eyes, cute pointed chin with a dab of white at the bottom, and those deeper “M” stripes in the middle of his forehead. No wonder you don’t want to advertise his presence—losing a beautiful baby like him to some money-grubbin’ landlord would be a tragedy. But don’t you think you should spring for a collar? Thanx again for responding to my email, and be sure to pet both the kitties for me. ReneeC.

  * * * *

  From: wesrich@msn.com 7-31-01 6:11:01.24

&
nbsp; To: reneec@msn.com

  Subj: Cat not in box

  Hello again, ReneeC.,

  If your description of that cat wasn’t so convincing, I’d be passing your email address on to msn-com, along with a request that you be banned from logging on…but damn, that cat you keep telling me about sounds so real, I’m half-tempted to check that stupid box for fur or what-have-you stains.…Well, at least I know the cat is a “he”—nice touch, especially when I’m so partial to tomcats. But I suppose you guessed that from the Garfield reference in my last message, I’m supposing.

  But the part about the cat-yoga did get me to thinking—ever notice how a cat can do just about anything—contort itself into the most asinine positions, yet still look dignified? The beauty of cats, I guess. Including the phantom-box-cat.…

  Hey, next time he makes an appearance, why not download the image? I’d like to see him—even a cut-and-paste image would be a bit more animated than my trusty TV cat (btw, I don’t know where you keep your gourd cat, but be warned, the heat from a TV can make the feet brittle. Mine lost a couple of toes that way!).

  Be well, and be on the look-out for future Phantom Box Cat sightings!

  * * * *

  From: reneec@msn.com 8-02-01 3:48:26.09

  To: wesrich@msn.com

  Subj: Cat IN box on-line

  Dear Cat-Owner Wes R.,

  I’m willing to forget about your last email’s sarcasm—it took me a while (thank goodness I have an in-home office job or else I’d have missed him!) but your cat was gracious enough to not only pose for me, but he even “smiled” for the camera. (If a toothy yawn counts for a smile!) I don’t know how long it will take to download his image since my digital equipment is rather balky, but be patient, and you’ll see him. As if you weren’t used to seeing him every day.…

  I suppose you’ve been worried about your landlord logging onto your site and seeing him, but I figure if he hasn’t done anything so far, he’s probably one of those dorks with a Betamax under his b/w TV who still uses a rotary phone. But as you can see, your so-called Phantom Kitty is alive and well, and amusing all your webfans with his antics—the way he did that slam-dunk with the wad of paper into your bookcase was a classic. Funny, isn’t it, how so many cats are left-pawed? I read someplace that right-pawed cats are in the minority, just like left-handed people. Weird, eh? Both my cats are left-pawed; Marco Polo (gray DSH, big amber eyes) and Casper (proverbial white, albeit with orange ears/tail, DSH, blue-blue eyes). And they’re also into crawling into whatever empty boxes/bags they can find.… I suppose the kitty-cup from the pet store is too déclassé for them! And never mind those cat hammocks—altho Marco thinks they’re a great stand-by litter-pan, alas! Once, and don’t ask me how he did it, Casper “hid” for half a day under a point-down triangle of bedspread that was hanging off the side of the bed—I mean, how can a cat stand on his toes so that he can’t be seen behind an inverted triangle of fabric? But, sure enough, I saw him emerge from behind there, and I swear I couldn’t see him when he was sitting/standing/levitating behind it! (btw, now that I’ve “proved” to you that your own cat exists, what is his name? If perchance you haven’t named him, Boots would be a perfect one, what with his white feet and all. Sure easier to spell than the name of that scientist guy who postulated that experiment with the cat in the sealed box…Schrödinger?) Bye for now, from Marco, Casper, the black-n-white gourd cat, and their owner.…