Daisy: the autobiography of a catSwan, Miranda Eliot
General
Daisy: the autobiography of a cat
Swan, Miranda Eliot
Cats -- Fiction
"By his master's orders John carried them home and buried them, after
putting them in a nice box on the grounds. I will show you their grave
some day before you leave.
"The uncle never forgave them. He allowed his nephew and his wife the
use of the house and an annuity for life; but not one cent of his money
could be used for the children.
"Their own means being small, they were obliged to give up the thought
of a profession for their sons and put them into business. The uncle
said very justly that no one ought to be a doctor who had no love in his
heart for the dumb creatures so dependent on him for their welfare.
"He lived but two years after this, and he made me his special care.
Nothing was too good for me, and I loved him with all my heart, and I
know I was a great comfort to him. When I would lick the scars on his
hands, I have seen the tears in his eyes, and he would smooth my fur,
and say, 'Poor Tige! poor Tige!'
"He never quite recovered the use of his left hand, but he never
complained; and when I was big enough I would walk out with him every
day, for I distrusted every one, and made very few friends. He named me
Pedro for a friend of his, a Spanish gentleman from whom he inherited
some of his wealth.
"At his death he gave me to his sister, and left a large sum to be used
for my benefit. He had given her a fine property and the estate where we
now live. After her death it is to be used for charity and a home for
animals.
"She has been very kind to me. The friends whom she has taken to live
here and keep the home for her are very nice, and they understand just
how I am situated. They are fond of animals, and make a great deal of
me; but I can never care for people again. My mistress is not very
strong, probably will not live much longer, and I hope when she dies I
shall soon follow her. The horrible scene of my mother's death has taken
all the pleasure of life from me. Do you wonder I do not make new
friends or trust people?"
I assured him of my sympathy, saying that I hoped there were no such
wicked people about now.
"Don't think that," he said; "there are hundreds of just such wicked,
cruel acts committed all the time. Something should be done to stop the
work now, and save the children from being murderers and criminals."
I was very unhappy over Pedro's story. I did wish my mistress could hear
this sad tale, for I know that she would try to help the poor abused
creatures.
I had quite an ill turn from worry of mind over this sad story, and from
the internal injury that I received from the encounter with that
bulldog.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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