The Cat

by Banjo Paterson

　　Most people think that the cat is an unintelligent animal,fond of ease, and caring little for anything but mice and milk.But a cat has really more character than most human beings,and gets a great deal more satisfaction out of life.Of all the animal kingdom, the cat has the most many-sided character.He -- or she -- is an athlete, a musician, an acrobat, a Lothario,a grim fighter, a sport of the first water. All day longthe cat loafs about the house, takes things easy, sleeps by the fire,and allows himself to be pestered by the attentions of our womenfolkand annoyed by our children. To pass the time awayhe sometimes watches a mouse-hole for an hour or two --just to keep himself from dying of ennui; and people get the ideathat this sort of thing is all that life holds for the cat. But watch himas the shades of evening fall, and you see the cat as he really is.When the family sits down to tea, the cat usually puts in an appearanceto get his share, and purrs noisily, and rubs himself against the legsof the family; and all the time he is thinking of a fight or a love-affairthat is coming off that evening. If there is a guest at tablethe cat is particularly civil to him, because the guest is likely to havethe best of what is going. Sometimes, instead of recognizing this civilitywith something to eat, the guest stoops down and strokes the cat, and says,"Poor pussy! poor pussy!"The cat soon tires of that; he puts up his claw and quietly but firmlyrakes the guest in the leg."Ow!" says the guest, "the cat stuck his claws into me!"The delighted family remarks, "Isn't it sweet of him?Isn't he intelligent? HE WANTS YOU TO GIVE HIM SOMETHING TO EAT."The guest dares not do what he would like to do -- kick the catthrough the window -- so, with tears of rage and pain in his eyes,he affects to be very much amused, and sorts out a bit of fishfrom his plate and hands it down. The cat gingerly receives it,with a look in his eyes that says: "Another time, my friend,you won't be so dull of comprehension," and purrs maliciouslyas he retires to a safe distance from the guest's boot before eating it.A cat isn't a fool -- not by a long way.When the family has finished tea, and gathers round the fire to enjoythe hours of indigestion, the cat slouches casually out of the roomand disappears. Life, true life, now begins for him.He saunters down his own backyard, springs to the top of the fencewith one easy bound, drops lightly down on the other side,trots across the right-of-way to a vacant allotment, and skips to the roofof an empty shed. As he goes, he throws off the effeminacyof civilisation; his gait becomes lithe and pantherlike;he looks quickly and keenly from side to side, and moves noiselessly,for he has so many enemies -- dogs, cabmen with whips,and small boys with stones.Arrived on the top of the shed, the cat arches his back, rakes his clawsonce or twice through the soft bark of the old roof, wheels roundand stretches himself a few times; just to see that every muscleis in full working order; then, dropping his head nearly to his paws,he sends across a league of backyards his call to his kindred --a call to love, or war, or sport.Before long they come, gliding, graceful shadows, approaching circuitously,and halting occasionally to reconnoitre -- tortoiseshell, tabby, and black,all domestic cats, but all transformed for the nonceinto their natural state. No longer are they the hypocritical,meek creatures who an hour ago were cadging for fish and milk.They are now ruffling, swaggering blades with a Gascon sense of dignity.Their fights are grim and determined, and a cat will be clawed to ribbonsbefore he will yield.Even young lady cats have this inestimable superiority over human beings,that they can work off jealousy, hatred, and malice in a sprawling,yelling combat on a flat roof. All cats fight, and all keep themselvesmore or less in training while they are young. Your cat may bethe acknowledged lightweight champion of his district --a Griffo of the feline ring!Just think how much more he gets out of his life than you do out of yours-- what a hurricane of fighting and lovemaking his life is --and blush for yourself. You have had one little love-affair,and never had a good, all-out fight in your life!And the sport they have, too! As they get older and retire from the ringthey go in for sport more systematically; the suburban backyards,that are to us but dullness indescribable, are to them hunting-groundsand trysting-places where they may have more gallant adventurethan ever had King Arthur's knights or Robin Hood's merry men.Grimalkin decides to kill a canary in a neighbouring verandah.Consider the fascination of it -- the stealthy reconnaissancefrom the top of the fence; the care to avoid waking the house-dog,the noiseless approach and the hurried dash, and the fierce clawingat the fluttering bird till its mangled body is dragged throughthe bars of the cage; the exultant retreat with the spoil;the growling over the feast that follows. Not the least entertaining partof it is the demure satisfaction of arriving home in time for breakfastand hearing the house-mistress say: "Tom must be sick; he seems to haveno appetite."It is always levelled as a reproach against cats that they are more fondof their home than of the people in it. Naturally, the cat doesn't liketo leave his country, the land where all his friends are,and where he knows every landmark. Exiled in a strange land,he would have to learn a new geography, to exploit another tribe of dogs,to fight and make love to an entirely new nation of cats.Life isn't long enough for that sort of thing. So, when the family moves,the cat, if allowed, will stay at the old house and attach himselfto the new tenants. He will give them the privilege of boarding himwhile he enjoys life in his own way. He is not going to sacrificehis whole career for the doubtful reward which fidelity to his old masteror mistress might bring.