Pam’s Pictorama Post: Here at Pictorama we’re in lucky black cat territory today. When I reflect on the difference between the British who honor their black cats with being lucky and our own culture’s tendency to assign them bad luck, I think I may have been born on the wrong side of that big pond. This is an English published postcard, never used postally so hard to get a date on it. The image is a fairly common one and I would say this postcard could be from any time from the ‘teens to the forties.

Although the phrase on the card, I will meet you in the evening dear Louise, seems to bounce around (I found it on at least one other, albeit mundane, postcard) I cannot find the precise origin of it. However, one can imagine this sharp looking little fella being a popular image on a postcard. Red bow, tongue out, looking over to the side with huge eyes, he is perched atop a brick wall, rooftops and pipes in the distance with a huge yellow moon rising from the mist. I can see it being just the right cheeky card to send to your loved one for an assignation of sorts.

I have written about the roots of British black cat good fortune before. On the maritime side, they believed that a black cat on board a boat was good luck (perhaps not for the cat although maybe a mousie and rat filled paradise of sorts), and my favorite tradition of giving a bride a black cat on her wedding day – what a very nice wedding gift that would be!

As mom to two black cats, Blackie and Beau, I often profess to their particular good nature. I remember that my mother wanted to adopt Beau especially because he was an all black cat and I gather they are less likely to be adopted. There seems to be some truth in that but meanwhile certainly she found herself the most devoted little friend ever. Beauregard would sit on her lap happily for hours if allowed and there is not enough petting in all the world for that cat. He is a great companion.

When his weight became too much for her as she grew more frail, he shifted first to next to her and eventually to the chair next to her where he kept persistent watch over her – really of his own accord and understanding. He did not need to be reminded after he first realized it. At times it would be my job to move him to another room – doctor coming etc. and at first it was difficult. As experienced as I am with cats he wasn’t used to being picked up and carried and he is, frankly, an enormous cat. He allowed it and over time he accepted me as one of his spare humans while mom was the unquestionable primary.

With mom gone more than two years now I am the closest thing to her and when I spend time in NJ he claims as much lap time as he can get. His preference is still sitting in my mom’s recliner chair, and I like to think my way of petting, learned at her knee, is somewhat reminiscent of hers.

At times I have felt bad about not trying to bring Beau to New York with us, but he rules the house and the other cats in New Jersey, and I am not convinced that displacing him would make him happier. It was my mother’s wish that they would all continue to live in the house and I promised to at least try and it has worked for the past few years. Beau, Gus and the two girls (Stormy and Peaches) are quite young cats, only Milty is a senior citizen (of slightly indeterminate age – late teens, early 20’s) and he is quite tenacious. Therefore, the Jersey Five remain intact at the house there.