The following anecdote almost places the cat on a level with the dog;
"A physician of Lyons was requested to inquire into a murder that had been committed on a woman of that city. In consequence of this request he went to the habitation of the deceased, where he found her extended lifeless on the floor, weltering in her blood.
A large white cat was mounted on the cornice of a cupboard, at the far end of the apartment, where he seemed to have taken refuge. He sat motionless, with his eyes on the corpse, and his attitude and looks expressing horror and affright.
The following morning he was found in the same station and attitude, and when the room was filled with officers of justice, neither the clattering of the soldier's arms, nor the lout conversation of the company, could in the least divert his attention.
As soon, however, as the suspected persons were brought in, his eyes glared with increased fury, his hair bristled, he darted into the middle of the apartment, where he stopped for a moment to gaze at them, and then precipitately retreated under the bed.
The countenances of the assassins were disconcerted, and they were now, for the first time, abandoned by their atrocious audacity."