Cat and Dog | Page 9

was
careful not to interrupt her when she was busy, but she often left off
reading to speak to me, and sometimes let me keep my front paw in
hers as we sat together. These were happy days, and I should have liked
them to last for ever. But this state of tranquillity was to be disturbed,
and I am sorry to say by my own folly.
I had insensibly imbibed a notion, or rather a feeling, that I was Lily's
only pet and favourite, and that nothing else had a right to attract her
notice. Of course I allowed her to pay proper attention to human beings;
I knew that I could not come into competition with them, and therefore
I never was jealous of them; but a word or a look bestowed upon an
inferior animal appeared to me an affront which proper self-respect

required me to resent.
One day Lily appeared in the garden carrying a little white kitten in her
arms. I should have liked to have it to worry, and as Lily was very
good-natured, I thought she had brought it for that purpose; so I sat
watching ready to snap at it the moment she should toss it at me. After
a time, I began to think she ought not to tantalise me by keeping me
waiting so long, and I tried to show my impatience by various signs
that she could understand. But to my surprise she was not only
insensible to my hints, but took upon herself to reprove me, saying,
"No, Captain, that is not being a good dog; you must not want to hurt
the poor little kitten. Go farther off."
If ever I was affronted in my life it was then. I turned round, and
shaking my ears, sat down with my back to Lily and her disgusting
kitten, and absolutely refused even to look round when she spoke to
me.
This was the beginning of a period in my life to which I always recur
with shame and regret. I continued in a state of unmitigated sulks. Even
Lily could not appease me. If she came to see me by herself, indeed, or
with only human beings in her train, I brightened up for the moment;
but if she appeared with the kitten in her arms, my surliness was
disgraceful. Nobody knows how I detested the kitten. I thought it a
misfortune to the universe that that kitten should exist.
On thinking it over at this distance of time, I honestly confess that I had
no right to be jealous; Lily remitted none of her kindness, and gave me
every proof of much higher regard and esteem than she bestowed on
the kitten. She fed me, patted me, took me out walking, and talked to
me just as usual; and as soon as she perceived my objection to her new
pet, she left off bringing it with her, and was careful to keep it out of
my sight. But I saw it in spite of all her pains. It was incessantly
intruding itself upon my notice, sometimes on the roof of the house,
sometimes jumping from a window-ledge; now perched upon a paling,
now climbing the pillars of the verandah; and always looking clean and
white and pretty, with a bit of blue ribbon which Lily had tied round its
neck, as if on purpose to provoke me. Even when I did not see it, I

heard it mew; and when I did not hear it, I thought about it.
I was miserable. To be sure I had no right to expect Lily to like nobody
but me, and I had nothing to complain of; every pleasure and comfort
in life was mine. Indeed, I think a real grievance would have been
rather pleasant to me. I should have liked an injustice. I was determined
to sulk, and should have been glad to have something to sulk at. But no;
people would persevere in being kind to me. I might be as ill-tempered
as I pleased; nobody punished, or even scolded me; and whenever I
chose to be in good humour, my friends were always ready to meet me
half-way. Indeed, I never was quite sure whether they noticed my
ill-temper or not. But I did not try to come round, though certainly
sulking did not conduce to my comfort. I once heard my master remark,
in reference to some disagreeable human being, that ill-tempered
people made themselves more unhappy than they made others; so I
suppose sulking does not always agree even with men; I know it does
not with dogs. It was a wretched time.
I continued to brood over my imaginary grievances, little thinking how
soon they would be exchanged for real troubles. I had been
discontented