Everything’s Swell!

Pam’s Pictorama Post: It’s impossible for me to see this card without hearing a certain sort of cartoon cat voice from my childhood – vaguely sarcastic, probably based on a motion picture idea of what a citified gangster sounded like. His friend and sidekick would reply, Yeah, right boss!

This is among the last of the cards I bought at the big postcard show over the summer. (Never fear, there’s another show coming in early October.) This card looks like it could have been drawn by one of those cartoon animators as a side gig. It has a pro feeling to it. The cat on the fence with the big orange sun setting – a glowing sunset behind the fence we realize when we really look. We get a peek at a yellow field and a house behind. It is as if the world is very beautiful glowing yellow and civilized just on the other side of the fence from where these three cats gather.

The two males on the fence seem to be tuning up for a night of caterwauling, while the girl cat belongs to someone who has place a bow around her neck. I guess she matriculates through both worlds. There is a garbage can which has overflowed – I guess that can be investigated and raided later if the boys need a snack.

*Blackie and Cookie on the bed recently. They have only just reconciled with each other upon our return to the NYC apartment.*

Not surprisingly it has me in mind of what we called alley cats when I was a kid and which occurs to me right now to be a term you don’t really hear any longer. (Do we no longer have alleys? Or are cats no longer their denizens?) Instead we talk about strays and feral cats – terms people seem to use interchangeably which arguably are not. Domestic cats that have been abandoned are now strays but they are not feral.

I have written about our first stray found when I was a small child, Zipper. (I wrote about him and other tabbies I have known in a post here. Zipper’s interest in our tropical fish can be found here.) He was a classic alley cat, a tabby with a broken tail where the tip was always at an angle. Mom rescued him outside the laundry one day (this was before we had our own washer and dryer – yes, we’re talking quite a long time ago) where some boys were abusing him.

Zipper was super scrappy though and grew into a beautiful cat. I suspect in retrospect that our rather prim but gentle domestic cat Snoopy was probably utterly shocked by him. He kept his streetwise wits about him and became a ringleader of the neighborhood cats of the time. (Our cats were of the indoor/outdoor variety at the time.) Zips would round up his buddies and make raids on an eel box kept for bait up the street. What pussycat parties those appeared to be! Puking for days after and a need to hose down the garage. These two on the card would have happily attended and then gotten into a few fights.

*Mr. Miltie, our old, old timer.* *A long ago rescue from Newark.*

Spending time outside our cats would get into scraps and occasionally come home with a gaping wound which would eventually abscess and require a trip to the vet. Once I remember my mother couldn’t find a cat carrier and stuffed Zipper into a picnic basket which he promptly chewed right through – head sticking out and therefore somewhat stuck, on our the way there.

All of this was brought back to me by a snippet on Instagram this morning about a British woman and her son finding a cat in the backyard and enticing him inside over a period of a couple of years. Reminds me of our Hobo in New Jersey who we never were able to get inside and who disappeared last year. They call him Boysie, another tabby, and it was a bad wound that finally made them urge him inside and to the vet.

*Gus, on the bed. He came to the backdoor in NJ one winter. He can’t decide if he wants to be petted all the time or is afraid to at all.*

Now we have dedicated people doing TNR (trap, neuter and release) of cat colonies which have mercifully cut down their numbers. Strays with docked ears show this has been done and our Stormy bears that evidence. Here in Manhattan strays are much less common than they once were even in my lifetime. Still, Stormy and Gus both came to the backyard at Mom’s and the other three were otherwise rescued, Beau and Miltie from Newark and Peaches from a basement in Long Branch. We know that shelters are full to overflowing and I am told that in the spring a never ending parade of kittens were dropped at our doors at work despite our not even being a shelter.

Recently an older friend lost her sister unexpectedly and the sister had just adopted a stray. I was very tempted to invite her to join the tribe although eight might truly be the tipping of that scale.

Peaches. I actually touched her for the first time recently. She was asleep on a chair and did not appreciate it. Peaches will generally only let me get within a foot or two of her. Still, she seems very happy. Stretches and rolls around. Just a no-touch kinda girl.

I think of our cat companions and how very special they are. Cookie is asleep atop a Chewy box surveying her kingdom as I write and Blackie is wondering if he looks longingly enough I will give him a Churu treat. (I am the soft touch for these and secretly am always trying to put a bit more weight on Blackie. He is a willing participant.) It makes me sad to think of those kitties that could have happy lives in homes but don’t get the chance. Here’s to finding them all their very best homes.

Home again, home again

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Post: While New Jersey is also technically home, our many more months a year are spent in our tiny Manhattan apartment. Despite thinking, every time, that we are bringing less back than we brought there, we will spend today rather literally stuffing ourselves back into this space and place. Among other things (think books) we arrive laden with corn, tomatoes and herbs from the Garden State – the latter two from our garden.

*Kim’s pile of pages, still covered in plastic against the possibility of ceiling leaks.*

As far as I can tell, everyone who visits us here finds our ability to live in this one room (which I continue to stuff things into and Kim contributes artistic additions to daily, not to mention his book habit and mine) rather stunning. Mostly when you are doing it you forget about it. Having been away for five weeks I myself am marveling at how I produce meals in our miniscule kitchen – with cats and Kim in there with me! (We remodeled that kitchen back in the fall of ’19, just months before the pandemic. Find that post here.) Um, how have I prepared meals here?

*Our kitchen post renovation – believe me, there’s lots more in it right now!*

Kim is back at his beloved New York work table which is more generously proportioned than his one in NJ and has all his stuff – his full pile of lay outs and an always slowly growing pile of finished pages. Only a working kit of stuff goes to NJ in a box each time. Having said that I think he will miss the lovely open window he worked by. I have worked at that desk and on a good day you can see hummingbirds in the Rose of Sharon tree which they seem to adore.

Cookie (shown above) and Blackie are thrown back together and I report that they are finding the one room small as well. Blackie, on the defensive the whole time he’s in New Jersey, gets unfortunately aggressive with Cookie once we are back. The fighting has commenced and there is much hissing. Kim is mostly doing the mediating. Cookie has resumed a perch atop of the couch and, although Blackie slept on the bed, he is currently sleeping off the whole experience under it. (Do they think they have awoken from a long dream when they find themselves back here? Or have they assimilated that they now occasionally travel back and forth? I suspect they’d have a lot to say given the opportunity. Perhaps we are just as glad they cannot talk!)

Several of the Rosa Mulholland books were left in Jersey after Kim read them, however two more arrived here in the meantime. (For my Rosa Mulholland posts and more about what I am reading you can go here and here.) Much of my reading is electronic these days but she has been hard to find and I keep purchasing the pretty volumes when I can. In addition, a few other volumes crept in via the antiques annex in Red Bank. (As for the comic book store I believe a couple of those volumes Kim purchased made it to New York as he had not read them yet.)

We are currently about half unpacked and I have a pile of clothes that need to either be cleaned or hung up. I wish I could move these summer dresses to our storage locker but the weather has turned hot again and I will regret it if I do I am afraid.

*I only see one cat but our bivouac* *process in August.*

For all of those things I do have my 25 minute walk to and from work coming up this week, rather than my long train ride from NJ. (Kim is going to try to do some of these mornings with me to keep up our walking together habit acquired on vacation. We’ll see if I can keep him away from his drawing table for a bit each morning for that.) The calendar is filling up with fall dates and New York is already in full fall swing, waiting for us to hop into the fray.

I have been back at the office since last week and again and again colleagues say that it is like a switch has been flipped and we are off to the races. We have a Paws & Pints gathering of owners and dogs this Wednesday at a dog friendly bar near home. It is followed by a new event for young supporters called Woof & Wine at the end of the month – that to support our fund which cares for seeing eye dogs for free. A supply of dogs and puppies from a seeing eye foundation will be the highlight, along with cocktails, food and a silent auction. And that is just September!

We are having one of our first truly rainy days in weeks so I have no excuse but to face the music and get the apartment in some sort of shape. Wish me luck and hopefully onto further acquisitions next week.

Dahlia Days and Jersey Delights

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Post: These are not only the dog days of summer but International Dog Day as I sit down to start this. No dogs here in the House of Seven Cats and I think the Jersey Five find the addition of the two New Yorkers two too many more let alone pups.

Blackie has wiled most of his days away in our bedroom when not hunting up Cookie (who resides in Kim’s studio upstairs) and eating her food. He’s also gotten into numerous tussles with Beau, the head of cats here and fluffed himself up into a righteously puffy Halloween-esque fellow. I am trying to resolve the problem with an extra can of food in the late afternoon. It might be working.

*The view from the back deck one glorious afternoon.*

I am on the back deck as I write, where I have spent many happy hours this vacation. Stormy, the gray tabby who seems to be perpetually surprised and terrified by the world, is at the back door looking out – hoping against hope that a fat fly will land on the screen door for her to chase.

Labor Day comes early this year but having said that the light in the afternoon already has a fall look and I have seen large v’s of birds starting to make their trek south. The evenings are chilly enough to warrant a jacket and I am starting to eye the little used fire pit. However, the earlier part of the day in full sun can be roiling hot so we are not there yet.

With heavy spring rain and subsequent dry spells the dahlias are slow to bloom this year but their show now that it has started is worthy. A few new entries are small in bloom stature but bursting with bright colors, red and white and an orange red and yellow. My beloved hummingbirds come to feast on them and they go from one to another and back to a favorite – like a bird buffet. ( Does anyone know what I mean when I say hummingbirds, hanging in the air, look like they are somehow stopping time?)

I can almost always find bees tucked in the centers of the dahlias, drowsily, drunkenly and dizzily covered in pollen. The strawberry plants are also enjoyed by the hummingbirds and are overflowing with flowers right now. I think I’ve mentioned before that they oddly produce only the tiniest, almost doll sized fruit – delicious but bizarrely small.

The tomato plants promise produce, hanging green on the vine but ripening SO slowly. Another producing tiny tasty yellow cherry tomatoes is doing a great business – unusually small but tasty bits being the order of the day here I guess. We pop small handfuls in our mouth, still warm from the sun. The jalapeno peppers are bountiful (and perversely huge) and of course are the hardest to use up quickly without killing my diners with devilishly spicy treats.

This year has felt like a real vacation. Kim and I have taken long daily walks to the neighboring towns, shopped in the antique stores and scored some items. We brought piles of books from New York (and admittedly added to them) and we have worked our way through almost all of them. Kim has been catching up on some of my Rosa Mulholland recommendations including one I brought with me that arrived shortly before our departure. In addition he has made occasional trips to the comic book store in Red Bank (Jay and Silent Bob’s Secret Stash of Kevin Smith fame) where he has amassed books reproducing the Superman saga.

*From my favorite perch at the comic book store, reading work email while Kim looks.*

Kim and I both worked for the first two weeks here after arriving in early August and we’ll put in a few days from here after Labor Day. Last week I wrote about our pending visit with Bill which kicked off our vacation and below are some photos memorializing his visit. (Bill, if you’re reading this, we found both the Reed Crandall book AND the Pinocchio book after you left! They were on an overlooked shelf together.)

Tonight is our first visit this year to the local Fireman’s Fair. (I wrote about it last summer in a post here.) Although I have reserved the right to go again when another friend visits from Manhattan this weekend.

I recently told Kim if he wants to sound like a native New Jersey-er he weigh in on the state of the summer’s corn and tomatoes – peaches for the bonus round. We take these things very seriously and the quality of Garden State produce is of great local importance. This year corn is small but good corn can be found with some work – it is perhaps just late as it has improved as the month has gone on. The tomatoes are somewhat underwhelming unless you hit one of the El Dorados of good ones (or can convince the ones on your deck to ripen) and eat them quickly before they go from ripe to bad. All but one purchase of peaches failed the test – however last night had some that had been purchased at the peach of ripeness before going bad, ate them with ice cream and felt like we really hit it at last.

In this spirit I began to make tomato pie. After looking at numerous recipes I settled on a simple one which I share below. The tomatoes need to be bled of water briefly before starting and I used a pre-made crust. (For all my apparent cooking talents there’s something about pie crust which I have never gotten into the rhythm of properly.)

Fifteen minutes to throw together and this is in the oven cooking away for 45 minutes or more and it is without question best if consumed immediately – it is inferior when reheated. My only other word of advice is that you should pack it as full of tomato layers as possible because they shrink in the cooking and my first effort looked a bit woebegone as a result. Dan and Cathy Theodore were the first to try my pie and liked it enough to ask for the recipe, but more about their visit and the gift they brought in another post.

Recipe:

1 pie crust
1/2 red onion, sliced thinly into rounds
1/4 cup mayonnaise
6 ounces shredded mozzarella cheese
3-4 ripe tomatoes, sliced about 1/4-1/2 inch thin
4 tablespoons fresh basil, sliced into ribbons (chiffonade)
salt and pepper to taste

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 400F.
Line a 9″ tart pan with prepared pie dough. Poke a few holes in the dough with a fork, then cover with parchment paper and pie weights or dried beans. Bake for 15 minutes, until crust is starting to turn golden.
While the crust bakes, slice the tomatoes on several sheets of paper towels and sprinkle with salt. Flip and salt the other side as well. Let the tomatoes sit for 10 minutes, then blot off moisture with dry towels.
Mix together the mayonnaise and the shredded cheese, and spread the mixture in the parbaked pie crust. Sprinkle 2-3 tablespoons of the basil on top.
Top with one layer of the sliced tomatoes, the onions, followed by a second layer of tomatoes. Add a third layer if space permits. Sprinkle liberally with salt and pepper. (If like me you are worried that the tomatoes are salty from the bleeding the wiping them down wipes off most of the salt.)
Bake for 30 minutes, until crust is golden and some juices along the edge of the pie crust are bubbling. Remove from the oven and set aside for 20 minutes to cool before slicing. Tip with the remaining basil and serve warm or room temperature.

Note: Tomato pie is best served on the day it is made, but leftovers can be store in the refrigerator and reheated in the oven at 350 degrees for 12-20 minutes.

PS – At top, Beauregard, top cat of the Jersey Five, in a pout before we left today!

Vacation: Jersey Days, Part One

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: I realize I am late getting to this today, but my cat care called in sick and I had chores for the maintenance of the Jersey Five plus the NY pair, so there was a lot of cat stuff that needed to go on. Then I started the gardening, but decided that I would give you all a turn first.

When I say I started the gardening, in reality I tackled the pruning of two huge flowering trees, Crape Myrtle, in our front yard. I am not an experienced pruner at all but when in bloom these trees get heavily weighted down with water and branches snap off. With a heavy rain some were sort of hanging half off and a friend lent me heavy clippers. I, who evidently don’t own a step ladder (I will look in the basement to be sure but none in the garage/mud room), took a step stool out and did my best to reach the necessary branches. I did my best, got covered in showers of tiny pink flowers.

*Beauregard, a very fine guy. Has tried to make friends but NYC kits not having it.*

For the cat update. The good news is that Cookie and Blackie did not stand on ceremony and refuse to eat for the first 24-48 hours and instead got right to it. Cookie is at home and enjoying her private aerie in Kim’s studio upstairs. She is not pleased with cat visitors although our enormous black male, Beau, persists in visiting and attempting to make friends. I find him sitting calmly like a loaf of cat on the day bed and her being hissy, pissy.

Blackie and Beau have had a few set to’s and I need to keep an eye on that. Beau really has tried to make friends but now is hissy himself – it is after all his full time house. Blackie is not having it but also he has a gamey leg that we had seen at work before leaving. Because he refused to walk for the vet wasn’t much they could do but pain killers. He’s better but his jumping is off and I think he knows it and is more defensive.

*Some beautiful sunrises during my commute but just as happy to not do it for a few weeks!*

Aside from that, much rain has made the garden explode with green but I feel like the flowers and the veggies are slower coming to fruition. I waited forever for the cosmos seeds to come up. The heavy rains moved them around and some probably actually rotted. However, we have a nice clutch for cutting flowers. The dahlias are just getting started and I am anxious for them as they and the Rose a Sharon tree attract the hummingbirds I love.

*Chopped one of these into my fish stew and my guest’s head about blew off! Forgot I like it really spicey!*

Tomatoes and cherry tomatoes are promising this year with the cherry tomatoes already kicking out produce regularly. The jalapeno peppers are doing a grand business, but as above the tomatoes are dragging their feet and so are some beans I put in which are just getting down to business. There’s a fig tree bursting with figs for the first time and some excellent, if mysteriously doll-sized strawberries. Huh.

A nice addition to New Jersey life are the farmer’s markets. It is a discovery for us, they’ve been here. The really good Garden State produce I love can be found at these – juicy Jersey tomatoes (my own are still green!), corn, peaches and nectarines. There is one in Red Bank and one in Fair Haven. Red Bank is about a three mile walk and the Fair Haven one is about that round trip. Kim and I like a good walk and an Uber and always be employed if we don’t want the six mile round trip to and from Red Bank or if we have heavy bags.

Today we welcome our first house guest in a long time. Our friend Bill is making the trip. He’ll be followed by some folks for lunch Monday and then another friend for three days at the end of the month. (Deva, we’re practicing and working up to your stay!) Of course I always cook a lot when I am here so it is just a question of laying in supplies for some marathon Jersey meals and deck time. I figure guests should be treated to the best of our Jersey fare and as part of that project I am making (my first!) tomato pie. So more to come on that and the relative success.

*Early, new dahlia with a pollen covered bee!*

So, lots more to come but I have to get outside and water the plants before it gets any later.

Reine Eymard – Cat Impersonator!

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Ongoing readers know that I have been on something of an animal impersonator role lately! It was true synchronicity when I saw this hit a favored account on Instagram (@Marsh.and.Meadow) during a casual scroll stroll. I snatched it up – my head was still full of last week’s post where Steven Phillips (@woodenhillstoys) shared his whacky and wonderful poster of a cat imitator. (That post can be found here.) And here was yet another photo of a cat imitator – my first French entry. (Animal imitators abound here at Pictorama and a few other posts are here and here.)

Subsequently Steven showed me where that imitator was named J. Hurst – to date I cannot find any information about him, aside from his stint for Black Cat Cigarettes. I am sorry to report that Reine Eymard appears to be equally lost to the sands of time. My own Pictorama posts are the only items I find!

*A sister perhaps? Royet, Hyacinthe. “Eldorado Aimée Eymard”. Lithographie couleur. entre1880-et-1900. Paris, musée Carnavalet.*

There is an Aimee Eymard who appears to be a contemporaneous performer (chanteuse) and I wonder if it is a sister. There is scant information about her as well however. Just a couple of posters. It’s fun to think about sisters on the same bill in France of 1890 – one in a cat outfit and the other a singer! Perhaps the cat sang too. Me-ow!

Sadly I cannot decode the date that this was mailed from the canceled stamp that is on the front of this card. The back is covered with writing, in French. It is of note that this particular card appears to have sold on eBay recently. Clearly I wasn’t doing my work well and if I had I would have paid a tad less – still, just happy it landed here at Pictorama.

The text on the back roughly seems to translate as, My Dear Cante, I hope this finds you well. Since you left something about mother and a bad head cold and bad weather. I hope it will be fine and it will ruin things if everyone gets it. With love, Gaby L.H. Weirdly, although it has a canceled stamp I do not see an address so no idea how it was sent.

Reine’s full hair barely fits under her cat ear hat and she looks coyly out at the viewer. Her hands curled into faux claw paws. Her cat hat has huge whiskers and somewhat googly eyes. Her flowing gown has some colored highlights added and falls almost entirely off one shoulder. She looks like a real handful – one can only just imagine that act!

I am a bit amazed that nothing comes up on the internet when I search these performers – no posters, no theatrical listings. For now, except for these photos, they are really lost in the cracks of time.

A Sprightly Black Cat

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: For those of you who read yesterday’s post, you know that this little kitty came to me from Great Britain via an Instagram post where I spotted him in a flea market display. It was the first time I purchased something from @woodenhillstoys via Instagram, but I deeply suspect not the last. He caught my eye at the same time as the Louis Wain doily (yesterday’s post), on a shelf on the same table.

This kitty is tiny, only about four inches from his nose to his curled up tail. He is velvet and sports a ratty ribbon, the same yellowish color as the velvet on his tummy. A red nose and mouth are a stitched star between glass ears with rounded ears. Still, it is his sort of splayed leg stance, arched back and curled tail that catch your eye and give him his cat-titude. A tiny hole in the tip of his tail reveals a bit of straw stuffing. He is a prime example of less is more.

*A closer look at this little addition.*

Meanwhile, in the process of the sale, the seller Steven Phillips (@woodenhilltoys) shared a rather extraordinary piece he recently acquired for his own collection. For those of you who are regular Pictorama readers you may remember several posts devoted to animal imitators – dogs and, of course, cats. (Some of those prior Pictorama posts can be found here, here and here.) While I wouldn’t say that the Brits owned this occupation, they are definitely in competition with the us in this narrow area of expertise and this is a grand example.

*Steven Phillips cat impersonator poster.*

I just about fell over! Shown here in a glorious poster size in his cat suit with a small image of him, sans suit up in the corner. I pulled this off of Instagram where he direct messaged it to me. I love that he has himself perched on this illustration of a rooftop with neatly tended fields in the distance. The cat costume is notably comical. A note in the corner says, Elite Photo Co., Glasgow, Scotland.

*A wowza of weirdness in this close-up.*

A Google Image search tells me that this gent in his cat suit was in ads for Black Cat Cigarettes and I have grabbed a few images shown here. (One is a Getty Image with its watermark.) I cannot seem to get the name of the performer in question. Clearly he is a rather inspired imitator and his devotion did not go unrecognized.

Black Cat Cigarettes, it goes almost without saying, had a long and storied series of ad campaigns featuring black cats – both real, drawn and clearly imitated as well. (For a post highlighting a notable item of their advertising in my collection have a read here.)

*Black Cat Cigarette ad I found online. I love the two mugs who are driving!*

*Oddly this came up the first time I put it in Google Images but not subsequently. AI had all sorts of weird answers for me when asked!*

So a real hats off to Steven Phillips (and my thanks for allowing me to share the images) for a real hotsy totsy find! I have a feeling this won’t be the last we hear about the lore of this particular cat impersonator and we at Pictorama will be looking.

Hamlet Castle Wain

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: I have opined on my devotion to Instagram. While I understand the downsides for many folks, having programmed my feed to be a fairly delightful walk through antique toys, cats (toy cats of course), antique jewelry, and vintage clothing (a shout out to @katestrasdin who I always enjoy – and I never stop being fascinated to what happened to silhouettes in the 1850’s!) generally makes me happy. I have written about it, intertwined with posts about my purchases. I am a rare 100% fan.

The secret may be that, although I will occasionally pause to look at Isabella Rossellini’s pigs, I generally do not follow celebrities and I do my best to avoid all political discourse. Of course I look at cats and watch cat videos. The biggest problem (or advantage, depending on how you look at it) is that I buy things. I buy jewelry (you can see a post about that here) and disparate bits and bobs. The Midwest and the South of the US tend to feed this habit – and of course England, the spiritual home of the early Felix and, like today’s acquisition, Louis Wain. (Several Wain posts exist! A few are here, here and here.)

It probably won’t surprise many of my readers to know that I am crazy enough that while scrolling through Instagram I will pause and happily look as closely as I can at tables packed with wares at far off flea markets. This is usually on my phone and therefore takes a certain kind of skill, gently expanding the image to see bits better.

*This is a photo Steven Phillips sent me after I asked about the doily while still on the table.*

This has actually resulted in purchases but the other day was an exception. This gentleman (@woodenhilltoys) in Britain had two items I decided I wanted if they made it through the day at the flea market. Luckily they were not sold and this doily is the first of the two.

It is very interesting as it appears to have been made contemporaneously with Louis Wain (1920’s), in his style, but not him. Although I found one other example at auction they are not common in my experience. In a sense this surprises me – Wain stuff has long been collectible and you’d think a fair number were sold and would survive but evidently not.

As noted in the title of this post, Hamlet Castle is one sign on the wall and Rehearsal of company 12 noon the other. (The auction site lists the doily by this moniker as well.) A Wain inspired cat (Hamlet?) with a club is getting read to pop this other kit (Polonius??) with a properly maniacal look on his mug. Go cat, go!

I’m not exactly sure how or where I will choose to display this tidbit. I tend to think it will come with us to New Jersey (later this morning as you read this!) where I will find a frame for it and hang it somewhere. It is a real treat. Stay tuned for the other acquisition and a story about a rather splendid item the seller shared with me but sadly he does not wish to part with. It’s a real Pictorama piece!

Back Up? Why Yes…

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: This scrappy little feline is issuing a warning – Back up! Cigar in mouth, claw paws and fixed stare, he chomps on a cigar which casts a reddish glow on his face, spewing a plume of smoke. His scratching paws show claws on the ground. He might be old and tatty but he can still fight a good fight. Although I think the admonishment means Get Back I think it also alludes to having your back up.

There is a small squiggle in the lower left corner and while I thought it was a spider or other insect, I now think it is someone’s way of signing their images. Google Images was not able to help me, however I now know that this was actually a woman’s suffrage image which I had not guessed. (I have a few suffragette items, which are frequently about cats, and a post about one is here.) It does make some sense now that I know it. It belongs to a series of cards featuring this tatty tom. This card was never used or mailed.

*Votes for Women statue. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.*

Cards like this referred to the changing social role of women and aligning them with cat like characteristics. I look at Cookie and Blackie this morning and I am not quite sure what characteristics they are referring to – I may be missing the point. (Cookie has been pacing the apartment and meowing at us and Blackie is napping on the couch. Neither seems politically idealistic.) I am not so thick however, that I don’t understand that this is a flinty, tough kit who is ready to engage their claws on all comers. Me-ow!

*From the same series but not in Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.*

I think I chose today’s card because we are mid-summer here in NYC and I am at sixes and sevens. A thoughtful colleague asked what I had enjoyed most about summer so far and my first thought is how hot and wet it has been and I could hardly come up with a pleasant answer. Work has been busy (event in Sag Harbor a week ago) and other than the temperatures and the humidity it has not felt like summer at all. We are generally frayed and on edge here. My fur is standing on end!

Next week sees our month long move to the Jersey shore and some vacation. I am hoping to restore my equilibrium and my spirits with long evenings on the porch among the dahlias and the hummingbirds which come to snack in the evenings. I want to eat my homegrown Jersey tomatoes, local corn and peach ice cream, along with grilling some fish. I want to drink an iced drink and read on the deck with Kim also reading in a chair across from me. (We have a towering pile of books we are bringing!) August is designed to smooth our fur and get us ready for the coming fall ahead.

It’s a Felix!

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Sometimes here at Pams’s Pictorama it’s just a Felix acquisition day and today is that day. The other day combing through listings I came across a duo of Felix in Australia. The condition was sort of medium and the price right and the next thing I knew this fellow was on his way to me.

I have a few other examples of this Felix and this fellow in particular may next find his way to New Jersey where there is a shortage of Felix-es at my house. (Although there is an abundance of kitties who have a lot of unsupervised hours so I am mindful of that as well. The younger inhabitants there like some high jumping too and I have an Oswald Rabbit I worry for occasionally. A post about him can be found here.)

Years ago I was at a huge vintage toy show in Atlantic City where a dealer had a whole basket of these (such bounty!) and he said that they were used as carnival prizes in England. They must have been very popular because many exist today but somehow they seem a bit too well made, and therefore expensive, for that. Still, it makes my brain whirl a little to think of being able to bring home such a toy from a fair – perhaps after having had my photo taken with Felix elsewhere earlier in the day. (Throwing in a photo below from my collection of folks posing with Felix for anyone who is a new comer here!)

Also a long time ago I took one of these for repairs at a toy hospital that used to exist on Lexington Avenue near Bloomingdales. I wrote about it here. It turned out to be very expensive but, at least for me, worth the brief entrée to that somewhat ancient and particular place before it quietly disappeared a few years later.

This fashion of Felix has mobile arms and legs. (Legs had come off on the one that had to be repaired. I do not recommend moving them much – I learned from the broken one that there is just a rusty metal rod holding him together.) This fellow has a good look until you realize that oddly almost all of his mohair has worn away. His tummy in particular is quite bare as is the spot under his snout. He has such wideset eyes – they always contribute to a goofy look. His tail, as is often a design feature, sets him up like a tripod for steady standing.

While his felt ears are intact, Felix has a few places where his fur is completely worn through, revealing small spots of the straw stuffing underneath. It is my understanding that these were assembled by hand in England in small factories. (Read a very interesting and popular post about this here. Such a factory was set up on the East End of London to employ indigent women.) All this to say that these end up have a very individual character and look to each one.

*Tummy is oddly barren. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.*

I did express some concern about Felix making such a long journey from Australia to New York City with the small holes and stuffing in particular leaking through. I am afraid I offended the poor seller when I asked – it wasn’t meant to be a reflection on her packing ability – more just the reality of a certain amount of jostling he was bound to undergo. However, she pledged extra good packing and she came through so there was barely a smidge of stuffing loss in transit.

We will pack him carefully again as part of our exodus to New Jersey in a few weeks. Until then he is hanging out with his Felix brethren here in Deitch Studio.

Moonlight Serenade

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Post: This fetching and fluffy feline caught my eye recently. This card is a bit later than the majority of cards in my collection and was sent on September 9, 1933. A woman named Agnes sent it from Whinchmore Hill to Miss Connie Connors at 63, Park Av. Park Estate, (can’t read the town) Northumberland for a penny.

Agnes writes simply, Dear Connie, It seems ages since I have heard anything about you all. Hope you are well. Lots f love, Agnes xxxxxxxx. Presumably it is Connie who had and kept this card to make it down the decades.

And I ask, who wouldn’t have kept this card? This little fellow is caught mid-meow posed on a faux brick wall for this purpose. In some ways it is the evocative bright moon scenery behind him that really does it for me. At the bottom in a script font it reads, A moolight serenade and W. & K. 1592. W&K postcards is the logo for Wildt & Kray, London. The company was founded in 1905 and was active into the 20’s publishing postcards of several genres but most notably cats – including Louis Wain.

Therefore if this card is postmarked 1933 (which it clearly is) it was either a bit old at that time or had been reprinted and distributed somehow subsequently. (Therefore the esthetic appeal to me makes sense since it was likely made before 1925 or so.) You can see it a bit above, weirdly the postmark machine has come through and embossed half this card.

I am glad I have not lived in a time and place where caterwauling is a nightly event. As a cat lover on the rare occasion I have heard it, and the likely fight that might follow I have found it hard to ignore. Just a cat meowing outside will of course garner my attention. Not that I would ever have thrown shoes at them – and not that I can imagine that would do any good.

In this mature period of her life Cookie (age 13) has become very chatty. She demands our attention, especially in the morning, with long, complex cat sentences. This is generally combined with a certain amount of staring (you human fool! why don’t you do as I ask?) and some rolling and stretching and expectation of tummy rubbing. (Cookie is the tummy rubbing-est cat I ever met! Growing up a cat would just bite you if you tried to rub its tummy, but oddly Cookie demands it.)

This leads me to a topic which may require more examination in a later post but there is a movement afoot on the internet where people are teaching their cats to “talk” using buttons spread across the floor. Of course, living in a tiny apartment in New York my first thought was, man, these people have space to spare and waste! Once I got over that, I started following a few people on Instagram who document their interactions ongoing.

*To aide your cat or small dog in being a Chatty Cathy!*

As far as I can tell one chooses word buttons and spreads them out on the floor and trains kitty to step on the appropriate one to converse. Obviously word choice is limited and a sort of pigeon English (if you pardon the term) emerges. Of course my friends at Chewy sell them but I have no real sense of how popular this trend is.

The account I watch most is a science fiction writer named Alice with a calico cat named Elsie (@elsiewants). Alice says she introduced button talking as something for a novel she was working on and thought her cat would better be able to tell her what toy she wanted to play with. Instead she seems to have gotten a Demanda Kitty (something we call Cookie occasionally) who appears to embody exactly what I always imagined cats would say if they could talk. It is sort of feline trash talking, a series of what she does and does not like and mostly what she wants.

There are companies like Fluent Pet that sell the buttons, lodged in brightly colored mats like those you see in a kid’s playroom. The companies have training instructions (do you want to talk to a cat or a dog?) and of course there are videos online to help. The real question we have to ask is, do we actually want to hear more about what they have to say?

*Cookie not really asleep this morning. Do you really want to know what this cat has to say?*

As much as I adore Cookie and Blackie, I’m not sure there is much to improve our relationship by giving them more control over the daily demands they already make. Although maybe a diabetic Blackie could communicate better about his sugar levels, too easily I can imagine Cookie pressing the same button again and again – and Blackie always insisting he hates Cookie. I have to say, this might be one area where ignorance is bliss and we shall not go.

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