memoir

Dog Days

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: As someone who has a publicly professed love of cats, my affection for dogs should not be denied. Even when it comes to toys I frequently have to shake my head with regret that I do not have space (or resources) to collect those as well. In reality, there are probably more great antique toy dogs than cats. I occasionally give in and purchase a canine toy, Bonzo is a favorite! (Some doggone good posts can be found here, here and here.)

Kim bought me this little metal painted fellow at an antique store in New Jersey over the Christmas holiday. I like his erect, watchful attitude. Despite his paint loss, he is still a chipper white with a jolly red collar and somehow still has a little gleam in his eye. He’s got a nubbin of a tail. From one profile he looks ready to play and from the other side more guard pup. I sort of wonder if he was considered a toy or if he was more of a collectible even in his day.

Playful profile. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

I have written some about the dogs of my past, my German Shepard Duchess in particular as a kid. (A post for a favorite photo postcard where I also talk about her can be found here.) Other dogs of my childhood included a beagle mixed named Charlie Brown (a bit of a miscreant mutt), and a terribly frighten cockapoo rescue named Pooch who you could never get near. So for all the many cats there was a fairly constant background of dogs too. My childhood was a cheerful parade of animals, all found by my mother with the exception of a few who found us.

As ongoing Pictorama readers know, I recently made a wholesale change in jobs and I now oversee fundraising for a large veterinary hospital and my dog petting time has skyrocketed overnight. Thus far I have met many more dogs than cats and while some of the dogs are clearly (if understandably) unhappy about being there, a surprising number are perfectly happy to be petted and even climb in my lap. (It’s a wash and wear life these days, lots of drool and fur.)

I do not know what Cookie and Blackie think of the smell of me when I come home now. (Goodness, what trash has she been associating with today?) Cookie did give my shoes a major sniffy going over the other evening. However, since I began regular visits to the five cats in New Jersey I think they have adjusted their idea of exactly what I do when I leave the house in the morning. I used to speculate that they thought I went to the vet every day since it was the only place out of the apartment they had ever been – now that appears to be true.

A photo of some boxes arriving at the new office – picture was taken to thank Daniel at JALC who sent them over.

This little metal mascot may come to work with me and guard me there. I am thinking that maybe the office will be a bit of a repository of doggie items. I have finally moved some of the essential items over, such as the elephant box Kim made (post about that and other office desk items can be found here) and bevy of plastic pigs and a cat given to me by my friend Eileen, and of course a gold lucky waving cat. (My penchant for those is penned about here.) I concentrate better when surrounded by these familiar items, although I am getting used to storing dog beds and cat toys from Galas past too.

Vesta

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Sometimes in the (ideally) long running life of a marriage by necessity gift giving becomes a bit mercurial. In reality, for me buying gifts for Kim always has been largely so (our first Christmas together I bought him a lightboard), however and I seem to veer between the extremely practical (he always gets new socks and underwear from me each Christmas, albeit in sportier prints than he might choose on his own) or on the rare occasion I find something like this year’s gift.

There have been past posts about Mia, aka @ The Ruby Foxes Jewellery (or http://www.therubyfoxes.com) who sold me this. She and her family live in the British countryside and she sells jewelry and other small finds online. Over the years and beyond some jewelry, I have purchased all sorts of things including some lovely jewelry boxes (a post about one of those here), a cat door knocker and an ancient cat match holder (posts here and here). In addition to her wares, I enjoy a stream of photos of the stunning countryside near their home, the pups and kitties – especially the fluffy senior cat, Enid Noodle – as well as the exotic bat-eared Astrid and Sigrid.

Another match related acquisition from @therubyfoxes. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

I can go for months without purchasing anything from Mia and then find myself sitting on the subway in Manhattan heading to work (back when I did that – I walk now) and discover she’s posted a tidbit I must have.

One morning over early coffee months ago, I saw this in her feed and for some reason immediately decided I would buy it and keep it as a Christmas gift for Kim. Mia, knowing me and having experienced my ineptitude with the closure on one of the jewelry boxes, wisely supplied a video solving the mystery of how to open it. (thank you again Mia!) We did indeed need to refer to her video on my phone Christmas morning to be reminded how to open it.

For any not in the know, a vesta is a container for carrying matches, both to keep them dry and prevent them from igniting in a time before safety matches and of course matchbooks and ultimately lighters. The first friction matches appeared in 1826 and I guess the need to carry the makings around followed shortly after. The term comes from the Roman goddess of the fire and hearth of the same name.

Size comparison between the vesta and an American match safe. Both in Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

Vestas abound in my Instagram feed – I don’t know what exactly this says about me although in a sense it probably means that, at least for me, I am doing something right. They seem to frequently be made of silver and occasionally appear on a chain for a woman to wear around her neck.

I’m not sure however that pre-pandemic and the curation of my feed to feature antique jewelry in addition to cute cats, that I even knew the term vesta although I do own two cat match safes. (Those rather prized and beloved items have been lovingly described here and here and an elephant one that was actually a Christmas gift from Kim, here.) The internet informs me that these terms are interchangeable although the term match safe is the more prosaic American term for the British vesta. British matches were shorter and a vesta is in general much shorter than a match safe.

Back of the vesta.

This little fellow does indeed seem singular. It is made of silver (plate as we can see where it has worn a bit around its much used edges) and has a striking surface on the bottom, both more or less de rigueur for a vesta, but the engraving on the front is what got me. I immediately loved the funny little Devil, pointy with pitchfork and the script invitation, How the [Devil] do you open it? He is an imaginative incarnation of a Devil, sort of a horned, skeleton dog creature with a arrow for a tail and long arms. On the back, inscribed in the same hand of fancy script, A Bliss. How about a drink Will? We’ll never know who Will (aka A Bliss?) is or about his drinking habits, but he is with us now.

For readers who remember my posts over the holidays, you know that we were experiencing a crescendo of activity which included my job at Jazz ending, acquiring a horrible stomach virus and immediately packing up the New York cats and heading to New Jersey for a month long holiday stint. Luckily I remembered to dig this out and put it in a bag of gifts (mostly underwear and argyle socks of course).

It also opens wider if needed.

Even more fortunately, I remembered Mia’s little video unlocking the mystery of opening it. I still have to refer to it! While quite easy and logical once you know, it is a bit confounding if you forget. There is significant wear along the side you press, below the striking spot, which should be a good reminder that this is where you push to open.

I am glad to report that Kim loves it. He generally leaves it open and keeps some pills in it queued up for taking, as our current match needs are fulfilled by a large box of wooden ones in the kitchen or a lighter. It was one of those rare finds that has become a part of Deitch Studio and another shout out to Mia for finding it and sharing it with us!

New

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Seems impossible to write about anything else while my mind is so full of the first few days at the new job so here I go. As some of you know, I have only ever had a handful of first days at jobs in my adult life. (Meaning beyond the days when someone handed me a uniform or an apron and said have at it in high school and college!) Since one of the few was returning to the Met after an absence of two years and doesn’t really count, I am inexperienced at this for someone my age and who has worked continuously for decades.

Frosty view on my way to work on day 1. It has been in the teens and/or snowing all week!

When you leave one place and go to another you shed much of your day-to-day expertise about who does what and how things are done. I remember at Jazz there was a bi-weekly meeting that was held to discuss Wynton’s calendar and upcoming events and for the first couple of months I just sat there marveling at how I had no idea in the least what they were talking about. You lose the place where you got coffee in the morning, not to mention where lunch could be found.

At my new gig it is the discussions around oncology and neurology for kits and pups and a surgical floor opening that flummox me somewhat. I have seen a new MRI for small animals (I gather we are more or less the only game in town for this) and I have chatted with an angry orange Maine Coon cat who was waiting his turn for radiation. While kitty was very mad, next to him was a pup whose tail wagged continuously despite his circumstances when he heard our voices. Dogs, for whatever reason, make up the larger lion’s share of our practice. I can already say a lot of dogs get attacked while being walked. Be careful out there folks!

The first weeks require wandering around looking for the necessities of life – where to grab lunch, a drugstore, a post office. Considering we are in Manhattan you would think these are on every corner, but the animal hospital is perched near the river and the on and off ramp for the FDR highway. Much in addition to us is under construction and it is an island of traffic and construction, the amenities of life are at least a block away.

The origin of the Animal Medical Center, downtown, back in 1914.

By its very nature, as an animal emergency medical center and the only Trauma 1 center for animals in the area, it is a place that must look constantly forward. Having said this, it is housed in a building from the early 1960’s that we are renovating while still going full tilt. I too was built in the early 1960’s and I think both of us are showing our age. Luckily for the animals (and all of us) the hospital is in the final phase of a massive renovation of said building. Unlike a museum, a hospital has to stay open and fully operational during its renovation and space will be tight for almost another year. Our cramped quarters and the valiant unfailing efforts of the docs inspires me to get in there and raise some money to help finish the job.

As a result my team and a smattering of other folks are camped out in a block away which makes it hard to immerse myself in the life of the place although frequent trips in and out are helping to permeate my consciousness. Meanwhile my team doesn’t really exist in a place where I can easily gather them, although I am doing my best to perch among them on and off and pepper them with questions. My first few days were a morass of equipment that wasn’t quite working with passwords that needed to be established and a persistent problem with sound on my computer which I believe we finally resolved late Friday. This is what first days of work in the 21st century are made up of I guess.

Unlike Jazz, which had moved back to working entirely in person, I am back to a combination of online meetings and fewer in-person ones. I feel I have lost the cadence of working that way and am struggling to regain the skill set even once my equipment is functional.

If I had a window my view might be close to something like this of the 59th Street bridge and Roosevelt Island tram.

My new digs are pleasant enough. We are on the East River and while I have no windows skylights add some natural light to my office. (I have been warned by the pathologist next to me that they leak however – her microscope is covered.) There is a pile of fluffy dog beds in one corner from our recent Gala and I admit on a chilly late afternoon it is tempting to pull one out and curl up like a Great Dane in one.

My boxes of files and personal office effects have yet to arrive so it is a bit sterile for now and I twitch for files that aren’t there as I start to think about materials that need to be produced. It will seem more like home once I am fully installed, hopefully in the coming week. Despite the internet I still keep a dictionary and a thesaurus on my shelf and a few other office touchstones from my past – although I let go of the actual rolodex years ago after moving that around a couple of times.

Large fluffy dog beds are tempting. There’s a bag of cat toys too in case I get bored.

Some readers know that there’s always a Chinese lucky waving cat in my office to help attract money. I will definitely feel better once he is back on the job. (I wrote about my affinity for these in a post here.) I could use his reassuring tick, tick. I may need to bring one from home if there’s going to be a delay! No one has invested themselves in the space though, despite having been there for years and the likelihood of at least a year ahead. I hope for my team my being firmly grounded there brings them some measure of comfort. I like to take root in a space wherever I am. I like my stuff.

One in a series of lucky waving cat statues.

Because our space is open at the ceiling and we are crammed in together I cannot play music in my office, but Radio Dismuke is still on my earphones daily. (I wrote recently about finding this now beloved radio station online and posted about it here.) I am just getting to know the few existing members of my team and they are friendly if a bit wary. I have interviews with potential staff to fill existing positions already set up for this week.

So that’s the state of me as my first few days at the new job draw to a close. Much more about this adventure to come. Thank you for those readers who tuned in!

Open and Closed

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Pictorama readers may remember over the summer when I headed upstate near Poughkeepsie for a long weekend of work with the summer session of our youth orchestra. (That post can be found here.) We rented an Airbnb home and on the last day had a several hour gap between when we needed to leave the house and when we would need to arrive at someone’s home for an afternoon event. Luckily my colleague likes an antique store as much as I do (she is also the person who sent the cat puppet in yesterday’s post) and we filled the morning with visits to several as they opened.

We were not disappointed! She was decorating a new apartment, a converted stable space I think, and was looking for pieces of all sizes. I, who had taken the train to Poughkeepsie, was trying to confine myself to smaller objects. I failed to some degree, as I ended up purchasing this item and a lamp and my colleague brought them back to Manhattan for me. (A post that mentions the lamp, part of a lamp buying madness that is upon me, can be read here.)

One of my recent lamp additions – purchased in Poughkeepsie last summer.

I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with this item, whether it would maybe live in New Jersey or in my office and I settled on my office (in part because it arrived there!) and it recently came to the apartment when I was cleaning out my office at Jazz.

I am not sure what establishment this would have been used for. Something about the black and white enamel makes me think a medical office, but I don’t know how that might of worked. As you can see, a wooden knob at the top changes it from Open to Closed. I did develop the habit of turning it to Open in the morning when I came in and Closed when I was leaving – or tired of people coming into my office!

Pams-Pictorama.com.

My office possessions are all packed up in boxes, still at Jazz, until I decide what is being sent to the new office and what is coming to the apartment. There are several things I am extremely attached to in those boxes. Among them is a small wooden box Kim painted with elephants (a special post about that here) and other items given to me over the years by various colleagues.

This Waldo mug was another item that came home with me. Someone made Kim two in exchange for being able to sell the design. I don’t know what happened to the other one – I think it was in rotation in the house and got broken at some point. This rather pristine example was my coffee mug at work. I think it will go to the new office as well. I always wonder if people in meetings are slowing becoming aware of Waldo’s tiny penis in the drawing.

The Farmer, Kim’s occasional avatar, appears on the other side, chasing Waldo.

It has a patina of dings on the enamel and the handle at the top is worn. There’s something about items like this, that had a very specific life before, used daily in some capacity, however never meant to be in a home or even the sort of office I had either. I enjoyed having it there and if there’s space I will bring it to the new office. If not, I will decide if it stays a part of my home office here or makes its way to the house in New Jersey.

This brings us to the new job, a new work space and not even know what that will be like yet. I have requested a desk in the animal hospital itself so I can immerse myself in the activity of the place, but I gather my real space will be across the street where they have offices. I asked several times to see it, but there seemed to be a number of reasons why that wasn’t possible.

Cookie who has re-assumed her spot on the couch and as Queen of Deitch Studio.

I do hate not knowing as I would have liked to start imagining myself in the space, I can’t say I like the unknown. I am like the cats, hating being uprooted and taken some place strange. (Incidentally, Cookie is reveling in being back in Manhattan and Blackie seems to have fallen back into his routine as well. If he misses NJ he is largely keeping it to himself.) As for me, some fairly major oral surgery last week has occupied my final days of vacation before starting fresh this week.

Somehow the Open and Closed sign seems like an appropriate post for today, my last before starting the new job this Wednesday. I will report back in full in the coming weeks – here we go!

Cabinet

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: In New Jersey news, Blackie discovered the upstairs yesterday. Just wandered all the way up them and found Kim working in the office up there, much to his delight. I wish I had gotten a photo of him coming out of the room and before he headed back down the stairs – so much for my fear that he would get up and not be able to get back down – and as he looked at me, ears back, in earnest shock. It was as if he had just discovered America. It’s good to see the little fellow spreading his wings and poking around a bit. The New Jersey cats are pretty patient about it with the exception maybe of the kitchen where their food is. They seem a bit less forgiving of that transgression. Cookie remains tucked behind a wingback chair in the bedroom. She is definitely a city kitty.

Blackie wandering into the kitchen yesterday. Still new turf for him.

On occasion I have written about my passion for those things which contain and/or display and today I return to that topic. Whether it is a glass front bookcase (such as the one I restored here in New Jersey and the post that can be found here), a special box, jewelry box or display cabinet – past posts about some those can be found here, here and here.

A small display cabinet photographed shortly after it arrived at Deitch Studio back in 2019.

The notion of that which contains always seems like such a good one. Surely if one has enough wonderful cabinets and boxes your life will be delightfully organized. (I bring the same enthusiasm to hardware stores and home stores – storage and organization abound!) Whether it is a tiny box for a ring or a bookcase, according to the way my brain works, each one brings me closer to a more perfectly arranged life – one where I know where any given pair of earrings can be found; any book can be located with ease. Meanwhile, small delicate items are protected from the prying claws and jaws of kitties.

This one resides in NJ now.

Along these lines, on Christmas Eve this year while Kim and I were perusing the Red Bank Antique Annex when I saw this nice little glass cabinet. It was sold as a medical cabinet in its former life and even marked down. I cannot speak to it’s past affiliation although I guess I can see it. I like the peeling sea green paint with silver undertones and beyond washing some grime off I don’t intend to do anything to it. The mirror back lightens up the space around it as do the reflections off the glass shelves.

I have installed it on top of a glass front bookcase in the living room here. A few small tin toys lurk on those shelves, but I think this is a good perch for items for the New Jersey collection that need to be cat proof (given the abundance of cats here). Thus far the elephant match safe I wrote about last week is installed in there and a small, old cast metal dog Kim bought for me at the same time. I have yet to determined what stays here in New Jersey and what comes back to New York with us, so we’ll see what it ends up housing over time.

Cat Cameo

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Being in New Jersey inspires me to push along with my mother’s estate and closing out various accounts or putting them in my name. I had been dragging my feet about closing out the credit card as numerous things were tied to it, but there were many charges that started to accumulate which I was unable to track down (New York Times, this means you), and so I decided I really needed to take it on the other day and settled in with the tv and some light work to do as I consigned myself for a marathon phone wait.

The wait turned out to be reasonable and after a litany of questions (I had the special joy that my mom had continued using a card in my dad’s name despite him dying in 2018 – they loved that) which had to be worked through, I finally accomplished it. The next morning, as I went to file the paperwork I had used the day before I realized…there was a second credit card. So later that afternoon, I consigned myself back to the phone fiesta and settled in for a longer wait.

I got the anticipated wait and someone decidedly less sympathetic eventually came on the line. She demanded some info which I needed from my dad’s death certificate and stayed on the line while I went rooting around for it. While I had my arm deep in the file cabinet (where it was tucked to one side) I found a little jewelry box marked APA since 1848.

After I finished my long hassle with the woman from Chase and effectively closed down the “hidden” credit card account, I decided to have a look inside the box. Much to my surprise I found a lovely little cat cameo. This morning after taking a photo of it and blowing it up I confirmed that etched in the back is, 14k 1985. This would coincide with a trip my father and brother took to Greece that year. They stopped over to visit me spending a year living in London.

APA appears to refer to an artisan family descended from a fellow named Giovanni Apa who was a master carver establishing the business in 1848 as per the box. Today there is a showroom Torre del Greco, nestled at the foot of the Mount Vesuvius. From a quick look the showroom is as much museum as salesroom and the artisans work on site. They are primarily known for cameos and jewelry made of coral. Sadly their online shop is not accessible right now however.

I have no memory of my dad bringing this home from my mom but since I wasn’t living home then it is possible I never saw it. He had a great eye for jewelry, inherited from his mother as far as I can tell – I have always believed that my flea market gene came from her via my dad who was an veteran garage sale shopper. It screams of dad’s taste.

While I’m sure mom liked it very much the truth is mom never wore jewelry. She was not even especially attached to her wedding band and engagement rings (which she gave to me and my sister) and I can only remember her wearing them infrequently and until a certain age.

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

I can barely think of an occasion where she wore a necklace, bracelet or other ring. She had a pair of pearl earrings (which I also have) which she may have worn to a wedding or the like somewhere along the line. (She did have a few pieces of Art Smith and a post on those can be found here.)

This little cat happens to be of a sort I have wanted for a long time. He’s a slightly rotund little fellow, tail wrapped around he feet. One of my all time favorite pieces of jewelry in my collection is a horse cameo where an old cameo was put in a ring. (A post that includes the history of that piece can be found here.) I have always wanted a cat companion, either a cameo or micro-mosaic of a cat ring. Made in the traditional way it is as close to the esthetic of the antique one as possible. Although I may try wearing it as a necklace I suspect I will wear it more as a ring. I will ask my friends at Muriel Chastanet in Los Angeles if she would like to take a try at it – so follow up future post to come. Seems to be a fitting find for someone who inherited five cats and is heading to a new job at the Schwarzman Animal Medical Center.

Feline Greetings from Fair Haven

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today is the annual Christmas card reveal. clearly this year we celebrate the whole Butler crew, all eight kitties, including Hobo.

We are ensconced here at Oxford Avenue for the holiday duration this year. I have inaugurated the holidays by acquiring a violent stomach virus so this may be a bit brief. It’s an odd year, my first without my mom and I am feeling it even more keenly than I thought I would. I am usually pro-Christmas and manage holiday cheer even under duress. This year is tough, although I am curled up here in New Jersey with Kim and all the kitties which helps. Drinking fluids! No baking while this is going on.

Last year’s card – Blackie and Cookie solo in front of our apartment window.

The card has a double meaning this year as I leave Jazz at Lincoln Center for the very different world of fundraising for the Schwarzman Animal Medical Center. Animal lover and rescuer of animals as she was, all of us think Mom would find that an appropriate switch; she was always concerned that my job at Jazz was too exhausting for the long haul, with its travel and many nights.

AMC will be unlike anything I have done before and I don’t dismiss the difference and the adjustment – all fundraising is not the same. Still, my brain itches to engage with new challenges and I think building a full fundraising operation for them is the next best chapter.

Blackie is stalking around the New Jersey house; Cookie has returned to her safe spot under a chair in the bedroom. Beau and Blackie had a hissy hello last night. I think the other New Jersey cats remain largely unaware. There is always an adjustment period.

Kim has taken over my office for the duration and, after a few false starts for a new dip pen holder and something for his ink, he is inking away upstairs.

The original Pam Butler pencil drawing.

This year’s card was conceived of and drawn by me as a tribute to my new cat family and job – I include my original pencil for the first time. Kim inked it and added the logo which is properly Deitchien. Each cat gets a proper portrait. Kim added a little maniacal twist to Cookie who is chasing her tail (as she still does almost daily at 10 years of age) and Beau and Blackie are facing off a bit.

So our best wishes for the holidays and the New Year from us at Deitch Studio and Pictorama. Hope you enjoy it!

An Ending and the New Year

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today is a personal post. For those of you who are just in it for the photos and the toys, you might want to go back to finishing the holiday cards (ours coming up next weekend!), but for others you might want to get that second cup of coffee and settle in.

As I have alluded to in recent prior posts, I am finishing my last few days at Jazz at Lincoln Center. For almost seven years I have been their chief fundraiser and occasionally chronicled my work life here. The early days of figuring it out, nascent traveling with the orchestra, learning the rhythms and pace (very fast) of the place. I have likened it to leaping onto a speeding train.

JLCO taking a break outside of a Cracker Barrel restaurant during BBH Tour 2017.

Tonight I will attend my last Big Band Holiday concert as staff. Early in my work life I toured with the orchestra for Big Band Holiday, through Florida and much of the southeast. (That post can be found here.) I had made a nascent trip to Shanghai (and wrote about that here) in the first few months, but it was the Big Band Holiday tour that really made me understand what it was like for the orchestra when they were on the road and what was and was not going to be possible in terms of fundraising on those trips.

I wrote occasionally about the long Zoom-filled pandemic days – especially hard at a performing arts organizing which can no longer perform. I had to dig deep into my creativity to fundraise successfully, always hand in hand with Wynton Marsalis who proved to be an invaluable leader. Coming out of those pandemic days have been hard on managers. We are expected to mitigate both the needs of executive leadership and our staff. First the Great Resignation as folks settled into new careers and lives sometimes across the country from where they started.

Final evening at Dizzy’s this past week. Mary Stalling and the amazing Emmett Cohen Trio.

The longing to return to a pre-Covid office life is understandable, but not entirely practical as our staff has become accustom to more flexibility. Ours was a great office culture before Covid so it has been sad to see the office anemically filled, no longer teeming with musicians and bustling with energy. Sadly, longing for something doesn’t make it so. You need to create something new instead. A September mandated five day return to office was not the right catalyst.

As many of you know, my time there also morphed into the period I cared for my mother who had her final illness in New Jersey over the first four months of this year. I am beyond grateful for the thoughtfulness of Jazz at Lincoln Center and my colleagues while I traveled back and forth, frequently working days from there weekly until for a period at the end when I stayed in New Jersey. (Those days and that unusual time is in posts here and here.)

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Mom died in April and left me her house with five cats (plus Hobo, our outdoor pal). With the addition of Cookie and Blackie (the New York cats) that bring us more or less to eight. I became a crazy cat lady overnight – but I like to say mom had me in training for years! Kim and I packed the cats up and we spent five weeks in Jersey at the end of the summer. (A few posts about our lazy summer days can be found here and here.)

Without realizing it, I guess this brought me to the end of one period of my life and to the threshold of something different. I am not sure I knew that until late this fall someone put me in touch with the Schwarzman Animal Medical Center which was looking for someone to develop its fundraising arm. As I spoke with them I began to get excited about the opportunities I could see for them and my brain started shifting gears.

Paying a visit to Blackie at AMC. Was crawling on the floor trying to get him to eat tuna from my hand.

Some of you will remember that a year ago, Blackie was very sick and spent (and very expensive) week there while they saved his life after a dramatic infection suddenly took over his body. Although I mentioned it, I never posted about the very dark week we had while he was there. He was, in their words, a very sick kitty indeed and we are of course very grateful patients.

Blackie sporting a bright pink bandage after he came home.

The Animal Medical Center was founded in 1911 by a group of women who were volunteering for the nascent ASPCA and recognized the need for veterinary care for animals as well as their welfare. I plan to dig into this lore and I’m sure I will be sharing tidbits over time.

Today it is the largest animal hospital of its kind in the world, serving more than 50,000 animals a year. It is an elite veterinary facility where young vets train and research is done. I hope to help them expand what they do in these and other areas, including funding the free services they offer to the City’s police dogs and horse, our zoos and rescue animals which need surgical intervention.

Yoda the police dog being honored at the Top Dog AMC Gala this week.

I will miss my colleagues at Jazz, especially the endlessly talented musicians in the band, not to mention the nights at Dizzy’s – listening to Bill Charlap while the summer sun sets over Central Park – and the concerts in the hall. Dinners planned around the music and the stunning views of Columbus Circle. I will miss the daily encounters with folks who know me and I know them and we are part of a well-oiled machine together.

I find change painful and as I navigate the first holidays without my mom, this additional parting of the ways has sometimes overwhelmed me. Change is hard. Growing is hard, but you need to pay attention to the voice that urges you forward to the next thing.

Tonight, a final Big Band Holiday concert in the hall. Then we head to New Jersey for three weeks at the end of this week. Obviously I will post from there, but I am hoping it can be a few weeks of cookie baking and reflection. The new gig starts mid-January. So we gently close one chapter and head to the next.

Canine Cutey

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: In both life and in collecting I show a marked preference (purfference?) for cats over dogs. Having said that, it isn’t that I don’t like dogs and I think if I had more resources, including space, I might collect dogs too in greater or even equal shares. (To say nothing of additional pet ownership which cannot currently include canines.)

Last Christmas I wrote about a black and white toy dog I carried insistently everywhere as a child – Squeaky. (As it happens I still own Squeaky and that post can be read here.) I suppose it isn’t surprising that I was very involved with and possessive of my stuffed animals as a child, early signs of a collector. I was a bit linear in my affection – first it was Squeaky who was carried everywhere, followed by a Koala bear my father brought me from a work trip to Australia. The bear had no name, but he was carried until he was bald of fur (probably rabbit fur, sadly, in retrospect) in spots. I no longer have him unfortunately although I did find this type of toy and shared previously here. There were probably earlier denizens who I do not remember.

Me and Squeaky. This is a Christmas morning shot, but I don’t think it was when I got him. Just professing my undying affection for him probably!

My childhood was also filled with a series of real pooches, from our German Shephard Duchess to a rather maniacal mixed breed hound named Charlie Brown. I like dogs and generally they like me. Occasionally I find my enthusiasm gets the best of me and discover I have encouraged a very large dog to try sitting on my lap as a result. (When this happened with a friend’s German Shephard it did give me some pause. There was also an enormous Tibetan Mastiff who like the cut of my jib when he met me and just about knocked me over with love.)

Has a little green tail! The only green bit on him.

All that leads to today’s purchase, a gift from Kim who offered to grab him up for me! This new guy came via Instagram and our friends in Texas @Curiosities. There is something about him that reminds me of blankets of my childhood. Some of his color is fabric overlays (the red on his jowls) and other is painted on. His nose and mouth are sort of shaved into the surface “fur” or texture of his face. He has glass eyes and I think a friendly dependable expression. There is pink under his mouth which I think is a random addition but works with the color scheme overall.

Squeaky!

I am told that the original seller said he was German, or at least that he came from Germany. He has no tags. His colors and design make me think of Pendleton blankets, a Canadian export embraced in my childhood as well. His red ribbon is worn and I assume is original – matches the red on his face perfectly. His ears (which are stiff with wire) have been carefully resewn in back. He’s about 12 inches high, including his ears.

He is much softer in person than I imagined and he is somewhat stained with years of love and handling. I think the orange stripe from his mouth and on his cheeks are especially interesting. He is made up of a fascinating bunch of colors. In sum, he is a handsome fellow who has been much loved.

So another dog sneaks into Deitch Studio and the Pictorama collection. May the kitties beware!

Christmas is Coming Cat Card

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Today’s is an odd photo postcard I picked up recently. In 1902 Kodak introduced photo postcard packages were able to print their negatives right on them and I imagine that this card, sent in 1905 seems to be of this genre.

As I envision the making and using of these cards (something I actually have spent some time pondering) I wonder if they made a little pile of them at a time or only printed the one off. Will I someday be searching through eBay or a pile of photos and find the exact card but with a different message? (Imagine my surprise!) It seems like it could happen, but it never has to date.

This card, as is declared decoratively at the top, was sent on December 21st, 1905 from Berlin, New York. After some serious study, it appears to have been sent to Mr. J. E. Whiteker in Barnstead, New Hampshire. (There’s one word I can’t quite figure out – center? outer? Barnstead.) There is also a notation in pencil in the upper right corner, 7/27/75 15￠.

Shown as a plump puss with a fairly satisfied look on his face which belies the message to some degree. He is perched on some sort of print fabric and behind him there is a check tablecloth piled high with books.

The message on the card appears to read as follows, Dear Brother (?) This is the cat that didn’t kill the rat – we didn’t get a good picture. (Serve?) him a good Xmas dinner and make him grovel for it. “A personal Christmas to you from us. Herbert. Clearly a message of great holiday cheer.

Inability to execute a rodent notwithstanding, kitty looks pretty well fed and happy. A smile lurks in his genial expression. At a glance, he doesn’t really have the promising appearance of a rat killer, although with cats looks can deceive I suppose.

Miltie, napping nicely.

This sort of stripe-y tom is reminiscent of several of the New Jersey crew I inherited. Milty, a stray from Newark and Peaches, rescued from a basement in Long Branch, both fall into this distinctly indistinct category of cat. Most notably, our outdoor man, christened Hobo by me a few years back, fits this bill as well. (Peaches hates Hobo and looks the most like him!) The ongoing Hobo story is known to Pictorama habitués, but his tale is below.

I can’t remember precisely when Hobo showed up except that I believe it was after mom adopted Stormy, a gray and white kitten who was also being fed at the backdoor. Like my mom’s other rescues, she showed up persistently and was looking increasingly poorly when mom trapped her with the intention of spaying and releasing her. She turned out to be a very shy, but good natured kitty and she never returned to the outdoors. (She still chases her tail, like our Cookie!) Therefore, Hobo probably came into the fold around April of ’22.

Stormy.

Hobo, a bit of a reprobate, has resisted trapping. He’s a wily fellow who, when he is around, will ask for meals several times a day, leading me to think he has worms and wondering if I might slip something for them into his food. Last year this time mom was fairly focused on trying to get him trapped and in before the winter, but try as Winsome and I might we could not entice him in, making me wonder if he had been trapped in a cage before.

Peaches and Hobo. Next to Peaches is a favorite toy rat which is often a gift on my bed when I am there.

Unlike the others mom eventually trapped and adopted (I inherited five cats, plus Hobo from her when she died in April – yes, plus two here in NY), Hobo has the real earmarks of a life lived outside. I’m sure he looks older than his years and of course living the outdoor life, while sort of swinging and intriguing, is likely to drastically reduce his life span. (A Peaches to Hobo comparison below!)

Over the summer I had a video texted to me by a horrified Winsome who came across Hobo feasting on a rat! Evidently he had also brought her a dead mouse – gracious acknowledgment of the many meals she has given him. Clearly however he was supplementing his protein with a bit of a la carte dining. I had the opposite reaction and said he deserved a promotion and give that cat some treats! (We are not far from the water and we are always somewhat in danger of being overrun by rats.)

Sadly, Hobo seems to be on the lamb these days and hasn’t shown up in more than a week. Winsome reports daily and has tried leaving food out for him in case he is visiting at odd hours. It isn’t the longest he’s been gone and I believe (hope) there are other folks in the neighborhood who feed and look out for him. (We’ve seen him picking his way, very dignified, through other yards and down local streets.) We are decamping for several weeks in New Jersey and I am hoping he reappears then if not before.

Edit: I received an update tonight that Hobo showed for a late dinner! We’re very glad he is back in the fold.