JAMES HERRIOTS CAT STORIES
by James Herriot
Copyright 1994 by James Herriot.
All rights reserved.
Between these covers, teller and tales finally meet in a warm and joyful new collection that will bring delight to the hearts of readers the world over: James Herriot's Cat Stories. Here are Buster, the kitten who arrived on Christmas; Alfred, the cat at the sweet shop; little Emily, who lived with the gentleman tramp; and Olly and Ginny, the kittens who charmed readers when they first appeared at the Herriots' house in the worldwide bestseller Every Living Thing. And along with these come others, each story as memorable and heartwarming as the last, each told with that magical blend of gentle wit and human compassion that marks every word from James Herriot's pen.
Contents
JAMES HERRIOTS CAT STORIES
Introduction
Alfred The Sweet-Shop Cat
Oscar The Socialite Cat
Boris and Mrs. Bonds Cat Establishment
Olly and Ginny
Emily and the Gentleman of the Road
Olly and Ginny Settle In
Moses Found Among the Rushes
Frisk The Cat with Many Lives
Olly and Ginny The Greatest Triumph
Buster The Feline Retriever
About the Author
For Children
Introduction
Cats have always played a large part in my life, first when I was a boy in Glasgow, then as a practising veterinary surgeon, and now, in my retirement, they are still there, lightening my days. They were one of the main reasons why I chose a career as a vet. In my school days my animal world was dominated by a magnificent Irish setter called Don with whom I walked the Scottish hills for close on fourteen years, but when I returned from these rambles there were always my cats to greet me, arching around my legs, purring and rubbing their faces at my hands. There was never a time when our household did not have several cats, and they each had their particular charms. Their innate grace and daintiness and their deeply responsive affection made them all dear to me and I longed for the day when I would learn about them at the Veterinary College.
Their playfulness, too, was a constant source of entertainment. I can remember one, Topsy by name, who was the instigator of many games, repeatedly dancing, crabwise, up to Don with her ears wickedly cocked until he could resist no longer and sprang at her, which inevitably started a long wrestling match. Occasionally, we had the local vet out when the cats were ill and I used to watch him with awe: here was someone who had studied the species intimately and knew every bone, nerve and sinew in their bodies. I was astounded when I got to the College and found that nowhere was there any interest in my beloved cats. One of my text books was an immense tome called Sissons Anatomy of Domestic Animals. It took a fairly strong man to lift it from the shelf, and to carry it around was a labour in itself. I searched the pages eagerly. They profusely illustrated the innards of horse, ox, sheep, pig and dog in that strict order. The dog only just squeezed in, but I couldnt find a cat anywhere. Finally I consulted the index. There was nothing under the letter c and I thought ah, of course, it would be under f for feline, but again my search was fruitless and I was forced to conclude, sadly, that my poor furry friends didnt even have a mention. I couldnt believe it. I thought of the thousands of old folks and housebound invalids who drew joy and comfort and friendship from their cats. They were the only pets they could have.
What was my profession thinking of? The simple fact was that they had fallen behind the times. Sissons Anatomy was published in 1910 and reprinted several times up to 1930 and it was this edition, fresh from the press, which I studied in my student days. I have often gone on record saying that, although I spent my professional life in large-animal practice, my original ambition was to be a doctor of dogs and cats. But I qualified in the days of the great depression of the thirties when jobs were difficult to find and I ended up tramping
in Wellington boots over the North Yorkshire Dales.
I did this for more than fifty years and loved every minute of it, but at the beginning I thought I would miss my cats. I was wrong.
There were cats everywhere. Every farm had its cats. They kept the mice away and lived a whole life of their own in those rural places.
Cats are connoisseurs of comfort, and when inspecting the head of a cow I often found a cosy nest of kittens with their mother in the hay rack. They were to be seen snuggled between bales of straw or stretched blissfully in sunlit corners because they love warmth, and in the bitter days of winter the warm bonnet of my car was an irresistible attraction. No sooner had I drawn up in a farmyard than a cat or two was perched just beyond my windscreen. Some farmers are real cat lovers apart from wanting them around for their practical uses; and in these places I might find a score of the little creatures enjoying this unexpected bonus of warmth. When I drove away I had a pattern of muddy paw-marks covering every inch of the heated metal. This soon dried on, and since I had neither time nor inclination for car washing they remained as a semi-permanent decoration. On my daily round in our small country town I found many instances of old folks in their little cottages with a cat by the fireside or curled in their laps. Such companionship made a huge difference to their lives. All this to remind me of cats and yet our official education ignored them. But that was more than fifty years ago and things were beginning to change even then. They were starting to include cats in the lectures at the veterinary colleges and so I assiduously picked the brains of students who came to see practice with us. Later, as the practice expanded, I did the same with the young assistants who arrived bursting with the new knowledge. Also, articles about cats began to appear in our veterinary periodicals and I would read these avidly. This went on throughout the fifty-odd years of my veterinary life and now, when I am retired and it is all over, I often look back and think of the changes which took place during my era. The recognition of cats was, of course, only a small part of the almost explosive revolution which transformed my profession; the virtual disappearance of the farm horse, the advent of antibiotics which swept away the almost medieval medicines I had to dispense, the new surgical procedures, the wonderful protective vaccines which regularly appearedall these things seem like the realisation of a dream. Cats are now arguably the most popular of all family pets. Large, prestigious books are written about them by eminent veterinarians and, indeed, some vets specialise in the species to the exclusion of all others.