By the way, Mrs. Bond, I asked, making my voice casual.
I didnt quite catch the name of that last cat.
Oh, Seven-timesthree?
She smiled reminiscently.
Yes, she is a dear. Shes had three kittens seven times running, you see, so I thought it rather a good name for her, dont you?
Yes, yes, I do indeed. Splendid name, splendid.
Another thing which warmed me towards Mrs. Bond
was her concern for my safety.
I appreciated this because it is a rare trait among animal owners.
I can think of the trainer, after one of his racehorses had kicked me clean out of a loose box, examining the animal anxiously to see if it had damaged its foot; the little old lady dwarfed by the bristling, teeth-bared Alsatian saying: Youll be gentle with him, wont you, and I hope you wont hurt him hes very nervous; the farmer, after an exhausting calving which I feel certain has knocked about two years off my life expectancy, grunting morosely: I doubt youve tired that cow out, young man.
Mrs. Bond was different. She used to meet me at the door with an enormous pair of gauntlets to protect my hands against scratches and it was an inexpressible relief to find that somebody cared. It became part of the pattern of my life; walking up the garden path among the innumerable slinking, wild-eyed little creatures which were the outside cats, the ceremonial acceptance of the gloves at the door, then the entry into the charged atmosphere of the kitchen with little Mr. Bond and his newspaper just visible among the milling furry bodies of the inside cats.
I was never able to ascertain Mr. Bonds attitude to catscome to think of it he hardly ever said anythingbut I had the impression he could take them or leave them.
The gauntlets were a big help and at times they were a veritable godsend. As in the case of Boris.
Boris was an enormous blue-black member of the outside cats and my bete noire in more senses than one. I always cherished a private conviction that he had escaped from a zoo; I had never seen a domestic cat with such sleek, writhing muscles, such dedicated ferocity. Im sure there was a bit of puma in Boris somewhere. It had been a sad day for the cat colony when he turned up. I have always found it difficult to dislike any animal; most of the ones which try to do us a mischief are activated by fear, but Boris was different; he was a malevolent bully and after his arrival the frequency of my visits increased because of his habit of regularly beating up his colleagues. I was forever stitching up tattered ears, dressing gnawed limbs. We had one trial of strength fairly early. Mrs. Bond wanted me to give him a worm dose and I had the little tablet all ready held in forceps. How I ever got hold of him I dont quite know, but I hustled him on to the table and did my wrapping act at lightning speed, swathing him in roll upon roll of stout material. Just for a few seconds I thought I had him as he stared up at me, his great brilliant eyes full of hate.
But as I pushed my loaded forceps into his mouth he clamped his teeth viciously down on them and I could feel claws of amazing power tearing inside the sheet. It was all over in moments. A long leg shot out and ripped its way down my wrist, I let go my tight hold of the neck and in a flash Boris sank his teeth through the gauntlet into the ball of my thumb and was away. I was left standing there stupidly, holding the fragmented worm tablet in a bleeding hand and looking at the bunch of ribbons which had once been my wrapping sheet. From then on Boris loathed the very sight of me and the feeling was mutual.
But this was one of the few clouds in a serene sky. I continued to enjoy my visits there and life proceeded on a tranquil course except, perhaps, for some legpulling from my colleagues. They could never understand my willingness to spend so much time over a lot of cats.
And of course this fitted in with the general attitude because Siegfried didnt believe in people keeping pets of any kind. He just couldnt understand their mentality and propounded his views to anybody who cared to listen. He himself, of course, kept five dogs and two cats. The dogs, all of them, travelled everywhere with him in the car and he fed dogs and cats every day with his own handswouldnt allow anybody else to do the job. In the evening all seven animals would pile themselves round his feet as he sat in his chair by the fire. To this day he is still as vehemently anti-pet as ever, though another generation of waving dogs tails almost obscures him as he drives around and he also has several cats, a few tanks of tropical fish and a couple of snakes.
Tristan saw me in action at Mrs. Bonds on only one occasion. I was collecting some long forceps from the instrument cupboard when he came into the room.
Anything interesting, Jim? he asked.
No, not really. Im just off to see one of the Bond cats. Its got a bone stuck between its teeth.
The young man eyed me ruminatively for a moment.
Think Ill come with you. I havent seen much small animal stuff lately.