Pumas We Have Known
The Apparitional Gamekeeper appeared out of the dark this evening, disposed for chat. He was telling us that while padding about in the woods at peculiar hours, he has been seeing a good deal of Miss Cat. She is, it would seem, rather more arboreal than we had realised; he has more than once encountered her comfortably ensconced in the crook of a tree twenty feet above the ground, placidly dissecting a wood pigeon or some such. I was rather taken by this. The A.G. has a high opinion of her as a hunter, he tells me that she stalks, discreetly and with success, whereas the Rough Cats just hide and pounce. Taking to the treetops is presumably an anti-Rough-Cat gesture; she is not confrontational, and it is quite clear that if she brings game back to the house she gets mugged for it by the Roughs, because she doesn’t any more, whereas she used to in Warwickshire. But a cat up a tree, and not stuck, is in a commanding position, and I do not think that even Bold Colman would try and swarm up after her. Perhaps I should have deduced her arboreal other life from a regrettable incident of the other day. We had some people in the drawing room, and Miss Dog was squiggling about on the floor being winsome. After a period of time, Miss Cat waxed indignant at this regrettable exhibition of professional charm, and launched herself from a height (the back of a chair), with, it seemed, the intention of landing on and felling Miss Dog, as with a Puma getting to grips with a Tapir or some such. Having been alerted by the staccato switch of the tail, I had fortunately been keeping a wary eye on her and caught her in mid-air, to her immense indignation, and hastily stuck her in the greenhouse before there was an Incident. When the Vet saw her this week for her injections, he remarked that she is a very fine, strong, and healthy cat, which is the case. And remarkably heavy, as Miss Dog nearly found out.