The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1878-05-30
The Domestic Sphinx.


enable wiles of cat Mr.. North's dog,
for instance, who ate the pigeon out of
the pie and stuffed up the hole with Mr..
North's ink-sponge, was not an adept in
the art of theft; and fox terrier with
whom the present writer enjoys the init
macy of common household has dis
graced herself this last week by what
was, to all intents and purposes, a lie,
when little more astuteness would have
shown her the futilty of falsehood in
the face of an abb. She had been tear
ing up paper and strewing it about the
floor, with fine literary freedom, when
the servant whose duty it was to clean
the carpet asked her, with magisterial Sc
verify, "Who tore those letters?" The
culprit looked at first terribly abashed,
and hung her head and tail in expecta-
ton of chastisement, till her mistress, rs
trial, observed, 81 wonder did Gyp do
itl" (Gyp being the offenders usual
companion and low-sinner, but as it
CHANGED, two hundred miles off at the
moment) Instantly the pertdious little
wretch perceived way of escape from
the penalty of her own misdeeds, by
throwing the blame on her friend, and
looking up briskly, shook her tail fran
tically, and almost nodded, you are
right. 1t was that wicked Gyp! AS for
me, am quite incapable of touching a
piece of paper"
1t is as useless for a dog to attempt
these receptions as for good honest Eng
lishman to profit by the counsels of
Macchiaveli. But the case is quite diff
ferent with cat. She is a domestic
Sphinx-whose countenance is solemn as
that of her stony prototype who has
gazed for sixty centuries over the field OF
death at Gbiza, and whose tail is not, as
George Eliot describes the tail of dog,
a "vehicle for the emotions" and never
betrays her, except in the case of leo
nine rage. No philosopher, we are per
suaded, ever yet got to the bottom of a
cats mind. No one fathoms her i'm plec-
able resentments, her deep, unspoken
suspicious of her enemies, or her unalter-
able confidence and gratitude towards
her friends. Few people attempt to
study her; she is rarely even given a
name, but is spoken of, like poor work
house orphan, by her surname, "The
Cat"-or in the vocative, "Puss'-and
treated little better by one, little
worse by another, but rarely watched
with any attention or sympathy, such as
many of us bestow on our dogs. Yet
there must be something really profound
in cats feelings, since there are num-
berless instances on record where they
have persisted and died for grief at the
loss of their masters or mistresses; and
the following, which occurred last week,
affords touching proof of sentiment
still more rare in any animal - pure
friendship. A correspondent writes to
US:
Colonel C--'s little black -and-tan
pet dog Flo died last Monday morning
about three o'clock. He had had her
many years, and she had long had an in
ternal complaint. She was II dear little
aifectionate, intelligent creature, and bad
always been treated as kindly rs child.
He buried her in his garden, and over
her little grave the housckeepcr's chill
dren shed many tears. Yesterday l
heard from him as follows: Another OF
my domestic pets was an old black cat
which came to me kitten years ago, a
few weeks before | brought Flo from
Oxford They grew up together, and
were very fond of each other, eating
from the same plate and drinking from
the same glass. have often seen them
stand side by side before my fire, and oc'
casionally put their mouths together, as
though they were absolutely kissing.
Well, the poor old cat seemed very mis-
cradle all day yesterday chat is, Monday,
the day on which FLO had died earl y
in the morning., and We could not in
duce her to eat. She could not be found
last night when the house was closed,
but as this occasionally happened, not
much was thought of it. This morning
she was found stiff and cold, stretched
out by the side of 'Flo's' grave. | could
not have believed it, if had not seen II
with my own eyes. Whether it is only a
coincidence, will not pretend to say,
but would rather believe that the poor
animal died from grief at the loss of her
old friend. But if so, how did she know
that Flo was dead! Such fact as this
leads TO strange thoughts, or what would
be called strange, by those who can see
in these creatures only dog or only a
cat.
When we reflect on the amount OF
thought and tenderness of sentiment
which this story reveals, does 1t not seem
as if, in our usual treatment of cats, We
must be stupidity ignoring something
very wonderful and beautiful, close be
side US all day longi
A more painful impression is the re
membrance that on creatures like this
have been heaped for ages back every
sort of cruel treatment by thoughtles'