James Herriot's Cat Stories Read online

  JAMES HERRIOTS CAT STORIES

  by

  James Herriot

  Copyright 1994 by James Herriot. All rights reserved.

  BOOK JACKET INFORMATION

  Illustrated by Lesley Holmes

  What better match of author and subject than James Herriot, the

  world's most beloved veterinarian and storyteller, and the adorable

  feline friends who delight so many millions of cat lovers around the

  world? 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 magic blend of gentle

  wit and human compassion that marks every word from James Herriot's

  pen.

  For lovers of cats, James Herriot's books, or both, James Herriot's

  Cat Stories will be a gift to treasure.

  JAMES HERRIOT'S books include: All Creatures Great and Small, All

  Things Bright and Beautiful, All Things Wise and Wonderful, The Lord

  God Made Them All, Every Living Thing, and James Herriot's Dog

  Stories.

  Now retired after fifty years in veterinary practice, he lives with

  his wife in North Yorkshire, England.

  ALSO BY JAMES HERRIOT

  All Creatures Great and Small All Things Bright and Beautiful All

  Things Wise and Wonderful The Lord God Made Them All Every Living

  Thing James Herriot's Yorkshire James Herriot's Dog Stories The Best

  of James Herriot

  FOR CHILDREN

  Moses the Kitten Only One Woof The Christmas Day Kitten Bonny's Big

  Day Blossom Comes Home The Market Square Dog Oscar, Cat-Ab-Town

  Smudge, the Little Lost Lamb James Herriot's Treasury for Children

  CONTENTS

  Story Page

  Introduction ........................

  1 Alfred: The Sweet-Shop Cat ...

  8 Oscar: The Socialite Cat ........

  28 Boris and Mrs. Bond's Cat Establishment .....................

  55 Olly and Ginny: Two Kittens Who Came to Stay ....................

  70 Emily and the Gentleman of the Road .....

  91 Olly and Ginny Settle In ........

  112 Moses Found Among the Rushes ......

  119 Frisk: The Cat with Many Lives ....

  128 Olly and Ginny: The Greatest Triumph .................

  139 Buster: The Feline Retriever ......

  JAMES HERRIOT'S CAT STORIES

  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 Sisson's 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 couldn't 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 didn't even have a

  mention. I couldn't 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. Sisson's 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 count