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Let Sleeping Cats Lie

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: This fellow caught my attention recently. He looks so nicely settled into this pillow with that little tuft of hair sticking out at the back, over his hind leg. He’s giving us quite a look, under his slightly furrowed brow and almost closed eyes. The ability of cats to deeply enjoy (and employ!) sleep is one of their most well recognized traits. I don’t know about you, but when I am leaving for work on a cold and dreary day, the sight of my kitties settling in for a day-long snooze on the still warm blankets fills me with envy! While our bed is a cat free-for-all even that territory is generally carefully divided. Day-time sleeping allows for a different (more liberal) distribution than nighttime, which seems to break down to Blackie further up the bed, either between me and Kim or behind my knees. Cookie has a pillow at the foot of the bed (a relic from my foot surgery) that she generally claims at night. It is Blackie’s responsibility, evidently, to wake us in the morning. He never got the hang of the time change this year and persists in thinking that 4:30 AM is the right time for the first pass at us.

Beyond the bed, sleeping spots are won and then carefully guarded and occasionally fought over. The top of the couch, near the windows is generally ruled over by Blackie, while Cookie has possession of the chairs – and best of all, a spot on a cushion near Kim where he works. Oh my – she is the Queen of Everything seated there and fiercely defends it against any possible intervention by Blackie; who is indeed jealous. Have a look at her just the other day below.

Cookie as the Queen of Everything

My mother has pointed out that when a cat in the family dies, the cats all shift their sleeping spots to new ones. Not that they take over that cat’s spot, but for some reason the disruption seems to demand a whole rethinking of spots and who belongs where. A bit of cat etiquette and ritual we are unlikely to ever understand.

Push Kitty

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: This was a book I took out of the library only once as a child, but never forgot. My memory of the copy I saw did not have the slip jacket cover, nor an illustrated cover at all. Somehow I stumbled on it, undoubtably the title, and dragged it home with me. The illustrations were magnificent and those are what I remembered.

If we fast forward to years later, Kim and I were comparing notes on the illustrator Garth Williams. We both love his illustrations – for me A Cricket in Times Square topped even Charlotte’s Web for memorable illustrations cherished from childhood. This book, Push Kitty, nagged at the back of my mind although I do not believe I remember that the illustrations were by Garth Williams, only that they were in that style and had been great. By then the miracle of the internet was well upon us. Sure enough, between eBay and a used book site (one later absorbed whole by Amazon) I had a few copies to choose from. To my joy, I quickly became the owner of this deaccessioned library copy. Kim’s recent Facebook posts about Gustaf Tanggren and a book he remembered fondly (but like me, never owned) called Cowboys and Indians made me think about pulling this one out. There is a lot to be said about Garth Williams that I will save for a future post, but it should be noted that Push Kitty was originally published in 1968 which means it was only a few years old when I would have seen it, probably in the early seventies.

When I read it again I realized why I had loved it so much as a child! In addition to the illustrations, the story, written by Jan Wahl, is about a little girl who dresses up her kitty (much to his obvious displeasure) and drives him around town, showing him off in a baby carriage. Since I too liked to try to dress my wriggling cat Snoopy (who was very dignified; in retrospect it must have really, deeply displeased him) in doll clothes and try to persuade him to stay in a small, tin baby carriage, I clearly identified with the story.

Kitty starts out all fluff and sweet adorableness, Kitty White is his name, and gets more and more annoyed as he is taken about and shown off. He returns to a fluff ball cuteness as he races away once the doll clothes have been removed at the end. Williams does a splendid job of drawing a cat frowning and in all his moods!

Presented below is a sampling of illustrations from the book.

Push Kitty 1   Push Kitty 2

Push Kitty 3   Push Kitty 4

A Girl and Her Cat

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Scan(6) copy

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Here’s a little girl who is looking pretty pleased with herself and her cat – who is also giving us a high step, tail in the air greeting. The little girls is dressed nicely – even sporting a bracelet on her right arm; her dress decorated with a little print hanky. Surprisingly though – because this seems to be her cat and they appear to be delighted with each other- the cat is quite dirty. I didn’t realize it until I received the actual photo. I have seen strays with cleaner whites than this fellow. He or she is a good looking puss, but my, those feet and a major smudge of dirt on the hind leg – won’t do. Most cats won’t allow themselves to be such a mess. Perhaps the photo is documenting his return from some mischief.

Sometimes there is a little fellow that does not learn to clean himself. My cat Pumpkin was one of those. I don’t know if he was taken from his mom too early or if he was a born slob, but that little guy just let old food accumulate on his nose – dreadful! He was orange so it didn’t show as badly as it does on this nice black and whiter. Anyway, we tried cleaning him ourselves and hoped he would follow suit – but no. So finally, in desperation, my mother closed our cat sensible, no-nonsense cat Snoopy (who actually bore a resemblance to this cat) and Pumpkin in the bathroom together overnight. Sure enough, Pumpkin was clean the next morning and he, reluctantly, began keeping himself in a less disreputable fashion from that point on.

Floating Dock

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Continuing on in a theme of summers gone by, here is another offering. Unlike my post Alice Smalley this one is undated and without an label. It is not a photo postcard either – instead a small photo on the thick paper stock of the 40’s and 50’s with the rough, decorative edges that photos sometimes had in those days. This one of a woman and another fine tabby, a bit older but clearly just as scrappy. The woman here is a bit dressed up (that’s quite a skirt with polka dots no less – one doesn’t see polka dots as often as you once did – why is that?) perched here with sandals which I can tell you, probably weren’t that steady on that dock. It is another beautiful mountain spot. My only complaint is that this one is a bit dark.

This photo has special appeal for me because I grew up with a dock much like this at the end of our property. We moored a small sailboat off it and generally had a rowboat tied up next to the dock for the purpose of getting to the sailboat. The rowboat required bailing after each rain and that was a job that fell to my sister Loren and I for the most part. I admit that Loren was a bit better about it than me – and there is the time that she quietly untied the row boat while I was bailing – leaving me without oars and drifting off! Needless to say I was madder than a wet cat when I got a hold of her.

It probably is not surprising that the dock was a never-ending source of fascination, especially during long summer days. There were crab traps hung from it, but we would use nets to grab up crabs and fish too. Mostly we enjoyed low tide which allowed a closer examination of the bottom of the inlet of the river we lived on – named Polly’s Pond, although not really a pond in any technical sense. It’s historic name was Oyster Bay – no oysters there when I was growing up, but recently I understand that they have had success in seeding those beds and reintroducing them. For me, it will remain a mystical place of crabs and fish and long days laying out and getting tan, shared with my sister and brother and a number of curious kitties, always attracted to the possibility of excitement in the form of fish and rodents, perhaps a bit of protein hunted on the fly.

Alice Smalley

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: I went for this photo in a big way. I am not sure why exactly, there was competition, but I had to have it – there is something very idyllic about it. To begin with, the spot is gorgeous – the back of the card reveals that it is a state forest camp in Eagle’s Mere, PA – and the woman and cat are sort of archetypal. She is in her saddle shoes and is with that sprightly little tabby. He looks like he probably grew into a heck of a fellow.

Meanwhile, I gather Alice did not approve at all. The card is addressed to Miss Amelia Sonna, 121 Main Street, Boise, Idaho. It says as follows, in careful print: Taken On Our Vaction Trip. At a state Forest camp near Eagle’s Mere, Penna. Over the 4th. I think this is a swell photo – but Alice claims the hair + costume makes it ‘terrible’ – How do you like ‘Figaro’, our motoring cat? Love Henry S. It was mailed on July 27, 1940 from Washington, D.C. at 11:30 PM.  Well, I disagree with Alice about the hair and costume and I absolutely love Figaro, the motoring cat! This is one of those photos that leaves me wondering about these folks and what became of them.  A quick search on Henry or Alice Smalley in period Washington, DC does not turn up anything. Eagle’s Mere remains a rather stunning park area with many hiking trails (and a museum of early trains) on a lake in Sullivan County, PA. It gives me a yen for hiking in Pennsylvania, something I have not done for a very long time. I have never been so far west, but used to go to the area near the Delaware water gap with my friend Christine Butler (no relation!) for photos and hiking. Heavenly.

Anyway, as summer 2015 gets underway, there is something soothing and timeless about this photo. A reminder to go outside, enjoy – and take some pictures. Make sure to print them!

Who Me? Felix?

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Hard to say what Felix is thinking – him pointing at his head and the ? above it – it is a bit of a mystery. This is a toothy Felix – just the kind I like best! – and the jolly little hairs flying off his head are very entertaining too. Someone did a good job painting this Felix. The man and woman who have stuck their heads through here seem to be especially well suited for this shot. It reminds me a little of the photo in my post, On a Slow Train Thru’ Arkansas – another cheap and fun carnival photo opportunity. I guess Felix could always be added as an inexpensive but jolly photo novelty prop.

This card is unused so there is no sense of date or location. I do not know if it is American or not – but I suspect it is – it feels American. The very square and toothy Felix seems early. The woman’s hat seems to be from the thirties and the photo process doesn’t seem as early as the twenties, but hard to say for sure.

Given an option to go back in time, I might prefer to have my photo taken sitting on the moon, something I have always longed to do. However, I would nonetheless leap at the opportunity to have our photos, Kim and mine, taken with Felix this way. I mean really, who wouldn’t?

Felix in the Tea Leaves

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Pam’s Pictorama: Ah, yes, Felix in my future indeed! This image falls into the just barely Felix mode. Still, if Felix is going to arrange himself in the remains of your tea cup, what can you expect?

While black cats get a bad rap in this country, in other countries and cultures I am pleased to say the little guys enjoy a reputation for good luck. I picked this English ditty up online:

Black cat, cross my path
Good fortune bring to home and hearth
When I am away from home
Bring me luck wherever I roam

– Old English Charm
Evidently the Japanese have a soft spot for them too. I guess in this way the world will remain populated with the precious black kits like my very own Blackie – named for obvious reasons. Blackie has hedged his bets with a small but clear white star on his chest, just to relieve the anxiety of the superstitious. Obviously, I consider him very good luck indeed.
Blackie Eats the Orchid

Blackie Eats the Orchid

On Parade

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XX#6

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: This is an odd one. It was identified as Tunisian when sold on eBay, but there isn’t much explanation. The back reads: Bon Boisers Maria/Bon courage and is addressed as far as I can read it as: M’othel Image, Hospital ausciliaire, PO 16 Lens Yonne. Roughly translated the message seems to be something along the lines of Good kisses and good courage Maria which we assume she needs since she is in a hospital. Yonne appears to be south of Versaille although I have no point of reference to know more or less how far.

What a wonderful and whacky parade though! I had a perfectly excellent childhood, but my parents (sensible people who hated crowds) were not in favor of parades, which left me with a nagging hankering for them. My father, a cameraman for ABC news for years, frequently filmed the night-before balloon blow-up for NY’s Thanksgiving Day parade – and sometimes the actual parade! However he could not be cajoled into taking us kids, ever. As a result I visited the balloons pre-Thanksgiving for many years as an adult living in Manhattan. Never the parade however. In the end I inherited my parent’s dislike of crowds. But, for floats like this, I think I would happily make an exception.

Another Jaunty Felix at the Beach

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post:  This was the second of two recent purchases. It took a long time to get to me, but it was well worth the wait. Felix strikes an especially good pose. It is as if he is saying, “Come on Jack, let’s blow out of here and find some real fun!” The man seems to be fully at ease – this despite the fact that he is wearing a suit at the beach. Looking further into the background we have lots of women in long cotton dresses and hats – it was a beach with a dress code I guess. A lovely looking beach resort, somewhere in Britain, roaring away in 1920’s full cry. Felix seems to have interrupted this man’s newspaper reading, but no mind – perhaps they are discussing the day’s racing results together.

This postcard is unused, undated and with no indication of location. I have found that these Felix photo postcards are rarely postally used, written on or dated. Clearly you had one taken and kept it for your own enjoyment. I saw my first version of these postcards in a book (the definitive book really) about Felix call Felix: The Twisted Tale of the World’s Most Famous Cat, by John Canemaker. That one, and the ones I was to subsequently find and purchase initially, were people posing with more or less human sized Felix-es. Some even made me wonder if there was a small person inside a Felix costume. In recent years I have found more photos of the sort shown here – larger than a large toy, but definitely not a midget in a Felix suit. Easier for an itinerant photographer to wander the beach with his tripod and camera equipment hawking a photo with Felix I suppose. You had to be set up in a stationary place to set up with the really big fellow.

Unsurprisingly, I have long searched for one of these giant Felix doll props. I came close years ago when someone I was conversing with on eBay said he had one in a storage locker – and then he disappeared! Oh the frustration! You know though that I plan to hunt one down one of these days – and if you stick around you’ll all know about it.

From Your Loving Sister

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: At first glance this photograph was all about the foliage for me. I have a real thing for masses of climbing leafy and flowering foliage in high definition like this photo has. A 19th century garden of Eden. Then I focused on the three woman who are so clearly related – especially the one in the middle and the one on the right. Those two (and the cat) staring right at the camera. A formidable group! It is from Britain and is clearly very early. I have yet to identify the exact photo process, but like some others I have mentioned previously, it has a hard shine on it and a slight moire effect when photographed. (It drove poor Kim crazy getting it right when scanning.) I don’t know if this is a form of deterioration or just the nature of it. The definition of the print shows the large negative off to a real advantage.

This card was not mailed. However, written on the back in black pen is, To My New Brother From your loving sisters Elsie. And below that in pencil Family from Sutton Coldfield. Our friend at Google maps tells me that is the Midlands in the UK. As I mentioned, no doubt that these women are related. So interesting how some families, or even just a few people within a family can end up looking so much alike – others, not so much. At one time my brother and I (sporting similar haircuts) looked so much alike that someone I worked with walked up to him at a club in Manhattan and said, “You must be Pam Butler’s brother.”
Of course this card found its way to me because of that great cat. Very much a voting member of that family he has a place of pride, dead center in the photo and he looks right at New Brother – you can almost see him thinking, Yeah, Buddy, me too. Wanna make something of it?