Daisy: the autobiography of a catSwan, Miranda Eliot
General
Daisy: the autobiography of a cat
Swan, Miranda Eliot
Cats -- Fiction
"My mother dreaded them and would hide us the best she could under her
fur. She had no peace, for her anxiety made her afraid to leave us alone
long enough to get her dinner. I know it all now, but then we were so
young we did not care for anything except to cuddle up together and see
which one could get the most milk out of our mother.
"The boys were to have two cousins to spend the Fourth of July with
them. We could hear, from our nice basket home, all about the great
preparations the boys were making to celebrate the day. All the young
people living in the homes near were invited, and the uncle had spent no
end of money in fireworks and Chinese lanterns and all the things boys
love.
"He said, 'This is the one day of the year when children should be made
happy, and they will be more likely to remember its meaning.'
"The two cousins who came were disagreeable-looking boys. All the
animals on the place, from the horses and dogs down to my mother,
instinctively distrusted them, for animals find out their enemies very
quickly. They soon found they would have no peace while these boys were
here, for the visitors were not afraid of the uncle.
"I cannot tell you the horror of the night before the Fourth of July.
The boys were out till very late, and by five o'clock were again on
their feet. The yelling, blowing of horns, and firing of crackers made
us almost crazy. My mother would jump at every fresh noise, for, like
all cats, she was of a very nervous temperament. I now believe she had a
presentiment of coming events.
"We could not get one square meal. Just as we would get our lips on her
breast, ready for a good mouthful, she would jump and jerk away from us;
and as we had no teeth, we could not hold on; besides, the worry and
fright prevented the milk from coming. My poor mother, how she suffered
that night!"
Pedro paused, overcome by his feelings, while I ventured a word of
sympathy.
"We had been removed from the house into one of the outbuildings, quite
a good distance from where the fireworks were to be, close to the
stable; and we enjoyed seeing the horses and pony come out to the great
trough to drink. It was exactly opposite where we were, and was very
cool, the drop by drop sounding very soothing, though we did not exactly
like the water. Our removal had been the work of our kind friend, the
uncle. He knew, however delightful the noise was to young America, that
we did not enjoy it at all.
"All day they were around the grounds with their crackers and pistols,
and the din and smell of powder made all the animals in the stable
wretched; but my poor mother suffered more than all the others, with
four refractory kittens to care for.
"The family had a great supper, and then, about eight o'clock, the
fireworks began. They were a great success, and when nothing was left
but crackers, the elder people went into the house, where the windows
opening on the veranda gave them a fine view of the grounds.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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