Pam’s Pictorama Post: I think the impression people may get is that I like my birthday, although the reality is actually that I am a bit ambivalent about it and have taken control of it to the extent I can. As my mother would say however, it is far better than the alternative. Years and years ago in my 20’s, I decided that I would try to take the situation in hand and create birthday traditions for myself and therefore be less disappointed in the enterprise. This has largely worked, some years more successful than others.
Those who have been down this road with me before know that my birthday occurs alongside Valentine’s Day (the great Kim Deitch Valentine’s Day reveal is here tomorrow – mark your calendars!) which posed challenges for the admirers and boyfriends of the young Pam Butler.
I was born in a snowstorm if not downright blizzard. Mom and Dad sussed out the situation pretty quickly and got her to the hospital to have me in the late afternoon (He was annoyed I interrupted his office hours, Mom used to say) amidst growing piles of snow. It frequently snows, sometimes a lot, on my birthday. I remember at least two whopping snowstorms in my early adulthood, stop everything kind of days, here in the city. And along with the snow, a myriad of plans cast aside at the last minute for alternative plans. I learned to lean local for my birthday.
Birthday traditions include trying to have a meal with my various other Aquarian friends. Currently this has whittled down to just a couple of favorites with folks moving or among the elder generation, passing. Still, they are always wonderful and I saw one friend earlier this week for dinner although have yet to set the date for the other – we’ve been known to wander into March too, spreading it out. Bygone traditions included spending the day with my late sister, Loren, and mom sending flowers or acquiring lavish cakes.
Kim and I will spend a day next weekend sort of gloriously wandering somewhere in the city next weekend. (I head to NJ for a clutch of doctor’s appointments there – and to visit the NJ cats who will help greet the new birth year on Tuesday.) Potentially we’ll be bundled up if the weather predictions hold. Snow is scheduled to start tonight and, after a brief melt possibly tomorrow, continue on through the beginning of the week.
This year, as declared in a post last week, I went on a bit of a vintage Valentine’s Day binge and while looking I came across today’s card which seemed perfect for me to align and honor my black cat, Valentine’s Day and birthday interests.
It is British and therefore the black cat is a lucky symbol – their horseshoe is also facing down whereas I think we usually portray it up (to hold the luck!) on this side of the pond. In addition to this smiling cat there is a four leaf clover, should we have any doubts. (There will be more about lucky objects coming next week so stay tuned.)
Back of card.
It declares: Upon your happy Birthday morn, I wish you Joy and Pleasure. And everything you’d like to have Heaped up in brimming measure! It has a spot for From at the bottom (what about To?) and someone has penciled in, as best I can tell, E. M. Pinder.
Thank you Eden Kennedy!
It has this interesting sort of deckle edge to the card and on the back it reads, Mrs. c/o Mrs. Plumb, 25 Hassett Road, Homerton and on the other side, For Minnie. The stamp is a halfpenny one and it was sent on March 7,1912, just short of 113 years ago. This makes its somewhat discolored state a bit more forgivable.
Beau, the black cat beauty to whom I refer.
In closing I also offer a birthday card from a friend that arrived in the mail last night. It looks remarkably like Beauregard, one of the Jersey Five. Makes an excellent case for a celebratory cat tierra, not to mention cape.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: I used to say that I would like to retire to a cat farm in Connecticut. Now, far from retired, those of you who follow my story know that it does appear that I roughly run one in New Jersey in addition of course to the feline folks here in New York. Additionally, my work life is now very animal centric and I can say I find myself in a place where I can have some very catty days indeed. Today I am dedicating a bit of space to my feline friends understanding it may not be the cat’s meow for all readers.
Peaches sees a bird out the window. She is ever watchful of the outside perimeter.
Just last Friday at work I found myself having a delightful hour crawling around on the floor of our member’s lounge with two new visitors, such good kitties they were out of their carriers and investigating the premises. Their mom adopts special needs cats only and is able to devote time and resources to their care. They are remarkably well adjusted cats and sat on my lap for pets and purrs.
Stormy is most likely to be seen at meals.Milty, grand old man, napping.
In general, unlike dogs (some actually seem to enjoy a visit to our premises – others less so) cats are rarely up for an actual visit when they are at the vet. This is certainly true of mine. If left with me in an exam room Blackie will immediately start to examine all possible exits for a getaway, first checking the perimeter of the room and gesturing to the doors – come on mom, we can make a break for it. I had another cat, Otto, an excellent jumper, who would look upward and the next thing I knew she went from my shoulder to atop high cabinets and had to be fetched by office staff. It is more than fair to say I meet many more cats these days, albeit those under the duress of being at the vet.
Beauregard who has recently discovered the pleasures of Zoom and sitting on my desk in NJ.
My work integrates daily thinking about cat projects as well – fund a cat recovery area in surgery or ICU anyone? Pay for some research? The largest number of patients are dogs, and frankly we care for many exotics (it seems to me I have seen a lot of guinea pigs coming and going lately and even heard tell of a goldfish). One day in the hall one of our staff rushed past me with a teeny, tiny turtle in a plastic tub. However, cats are far from uncommon.
Cats (dogs – and other animals) which need to be rehomed are sometime detailed and emailed to staff as it is, obviously, a huge network of animal people. This in addition to a daily dose of cat tales and woes on posts via the internet where adoption and loss seem to vie for attention. Lovely adult and senior cats who have lost their home due to circumstances changing – illness, death or indifference.
Sunny front door action at the NJ house. A prime morning spot.
As much as the New Jersey cats are tended and adored in my absence I worry about them. Although it has worked out better than I thought it would and it was definitely how my mom wanted it. I continue to consider it a work in progress.
Here in New York, Blackie continues to confound us with a newfound desire to drink water from the sink. I have had other cats develop this desire, but Blackie is single minded in his demands. Yes, he has had all sorts of tests run about it and even taking his diabetes into account it is unclear where the increased water intake has come from. In part, one cannot separate out the entertainment factor of making your human perform simple tricks such as turning the faucet on for you when you caterwaul. Still, there is definitely a corresponding urge and he also drinks considerable water from his shared bowl with Cookie.
Gus on the bed in NJ. He is one cat I think misses getting singular attention.
Blackie’s sister Cookie has become a more affectionate cat as she gets older. She is demanding in her own way (in fact we sometimes call her Demanda) but usually for pets, preferring morning and evening specially for those. Cookie is unusual in that she is the only cat I have ever known who truly likes having her tummy rubbed – like a dog. She will roll and stretch and request our attention for this. She and Blackie will share the bed during the day, but once I get into it at night she eschews it. Blackie has the job of waking us in the morning and only if we refuse to stir by about 6:15 will Cookie take matters in hand and race across the bed a few times to see if she can eject us manually.
Tummy rubbing time.
So this morning I find myself wishing I could give them all a home, but a bit overwhelmed by my own inherited menagerie at times. Wouldn’t trade my daily dose of cats however, although I am learning to appreciate dogs too – more to come?
Pam’s Pictorama Post: Let the Valentine’s Day and Butler Birthday season commence early here this year. We have a lot to show and share for ourselves this February.
Valentine’s and photography seem to be a natural combination when I look at vintage valentine’s. Although I generally am perusing the cats (I have posted a few past puss ones here and here), but occasionally like today, these interests align. I am a tad puzzled about photography as a sub-category of vintage valentine’s.
Of course movement in a Valentine is also desirable – I am not someone who needs elaborate movement. I might enjoy seeing those, but my space constraints make storing or displaying them untenable.
Liked this one, but decided it was a bit too fragile and large to live here at Deitch Studio.
I am perhaps not the best steward of vintage Valentines truth be told as they are a bit fragile. This one is actually zipping off to someone shortly after the writing of this – surprise! (See if you know who you are.)
Our cameraman kitty has what I think of as a press camera which…seems to produce playing cards in the suit of hearts! Clever cat! He has a nice big blue bow (that and because he is an orange tabby I have decided its a boy) and sits on a more or less matching cushion. The bow is the mechanism for the card to be “pulled out” of behind the camera.
This in the “down” position before the card is revealed!
If you want to get technical there’s maybe something a bit off about the paw holding the camera in front, a bit small. On the cushion it is inscribed, If you, my Valentine will be – you’ll hear a great big Purr from me. On the back in an adult hand it says, To Betty Jo from Jacqueline. It is also marked 10 cents in two places. There is no date, although at the bottom right corner there is a very tiny 1924 copyright date.
Mechanism, old prices and dedication on the back.
Personally, I grew up in the era of the big plastic covered box of small cards which I think may still be produced in some fashion – they were so ubiquitous that if nothing else there is probably old dead stock around. As a very small child we were set to making them out to everyone in the class which seems nicely egalitarian, although I have no particular memory about whether this was an effective solution. It took some effort, writing the card and the envelope, tucking it in. They were then put into a large bag and then distributed.
Etsy appears to reproduce reasonable facsimiles of the packages I might have had as a kid.
Over time the powers that control small children got less controlling and Valentine’s accumulated from you immediate circle of friends, occasionally widen by an ambitious classmate or, as we got older, a brave boy who took it into his head to send one. I’m not sure we ever got ourselves beyond those tiny cards – the luxury and investment of singular cards like this were not in our orbit.
In addition, there were those boxes of candied hearts with sayings. While accumulating them seemed to be the thing to do, I wasn’t an especially big fan of consuming them being more of a chocolate treat over the pure sugar approach. I believe in addition to the rather classic straightforward messages, Spangler, the current maker in a long line of producers, has kept up and now have messages about things like text me and BFF.
Available from Walmart to Amazon and beyond.
There are classic Valentine’s consumables which I embraced and still embrace. My father was always good for a classic heart shaped box of candy wrapped in lurid red cellophane. I would say when we were young it was Russell Stover, but got a bit more high end as we got older. He would also sometimes bring home something for us and I remember (and used for many years) a silver heart keychain from Tiffany. (I have the remains of it in a jewelry box.) I will likely buy one of these boxes for the office where our new digs has helped create a better sense of community around shared food treats.
Has changed very little over the years. I especially like the strawberry creams…
More Valentine’s treat posts to come – culminating of course with Kim’s picture for me which is a real wonder this year! Stay tuned as we say…
Pam’s Pictorama Post: Kim had the excellent suggestion this morning that I might consider each of the cats individually for a post, starting with some of the New Jersey guys (and gals). Peaches was featured in a post (which can be read here) not that long ago so this would be the second of the lucky kits seven to be in the spotlight. (My father’s wonderful cat Red who died not that long after him was featured in a post here.)
Beau, Gus and Milty waiting for breakfast one morning.
Milty, as he is generally known, is the most senior, if somewhat titular, head of the New Jersey manor. He is, by our best guestimate, about 21 years old. I’m afraid I don’t have any photos of a young Milty. As you can see, he’s an almost tabby, white with copious tabby spots, a sort of every cat.
Milty achieving pets on the arm of the chair.
He came to my mom as a tiny kitten rescued in Newark with a terrible long cut down his back. Because of that, I guess, he came to mom with the moniker of Knifey which she thought was an awful name and hardly described this genial little ball of fluff. He was found and rescued him on Milton Street (Newark Harrison Plaza to be precise it would appear) in Newark and Mom went with Milton as his name, Milty most of the time. Meanwhile, his back injury was so severe that he had to be isolated away from her other cats for a few months while it healed.
My parents were still in the (very large) house I grew up in and Milty had a room upstairs where he spent his first few months. That was a rough and tumble house of more or less five cats at the time, but eventually Milty found, and probably occasionally fought, his way into the milieu.
It was, I believe, not long after my sister Loren died that Milty came to Shrewsbury Drive. It also became a tumultuous time with my folks packing up that house ultimately and leap frogging to a rental before moving into the house I have now. So while a new kitty is always a thing of joy I think things like hurricane Sandy followed by my parents packing up and moving overshadowed his arrival somewhat. He slipped quietly and seamlessly into the life of the Butler household.
Winsome putting her hat on him on a whim last year.
Milty was always a pretty easy going guy. Slowly he moved up the ranks of mom’s cats over time and there was a moment where it was just him and two others before mom went on a cat acquisition streak not much more than two years before she died, bringing their number to five.
Of all of the cats, Milty is the friendliest and in fact actually demands to be petted by all comers to the house – sitting by you and reaching out with a tapping paw gently. He has a good memory for the regular visitors who pay attention to him and runs right to them. He does not discriminate by age – he is perfectly willing to let Anaya, Winsome’s granddaughter age 3, have her first, tentative cat pats with him. His fur is amazingly soft and he has gotten fluffier, not less so, with age.
Milty in the livingroom.
He is a bit of a grump and tyrant these days when it comes to food. If given his way a stream of cans would be opened for him ongoing throughout the day. He has the annoying (for the other cats) habit of eating the first wet bits out of every dish as they are put out – taking the best moist bits off the top. He drinks copious (truly vast) amounts of water daily and is said (by mom) to have tumors in his stomach. In the mornings that I am there he meows loudly and urgently for his breakfast until it is served, he and Beau eat first there.
Milty is demanding for attention as well and sits on the arm of your chair and gently grabs your arm, just a few gentle claw paws, for pets. Unfortunately, he is not a well behaved lap cat and the claws are in play for starfish paws and he tends to get moved along. He is the top ranked puker in the house and has other occasional accidents, not surprising I guess given his age and other factors.
Peaches smiling and giving Milty a pat.
He enjoys a surprisingly good relationship with essentially all of the other cats. (He has no use for the New York cats when they visit but that seems fair. He mixed it up with Blackie on our last visit, marching into the bedroom one morning to see where breakfast was. He also swatted a friend’s dog who wandered into the house with him one evening.) I tend to find an odd combination of cats curled up with Milty. The most surprising is Peaches, our most feral and generally resistant feline. I frequently find her curled up with him while giving me a somewhat defensive look. Gus also likes to sit with (or sometimes on) Milts and Milty never appears bothered. He is the Switzerland of cats.
Gus horning in Milty’s perch.
High jumping was never his thing – the awful long cut on his back perhaps – and he generally stays near to the ground now and rarely gets up higher than a low chair. Aside from that he is surprisingly spry and greets all visitors like the retired mayor of a small town who sits out in a sunny rocking chair on the front porch of the general store or post office. He expects a certain amount of recognition and fealty.
In some ways I feel bad for Milty as he never quite got to be a singular favorite with a devoted individual tending him. He has been loved but a bit generally by many. We’ve had a few scares with his health and know that at 21 for a cat his time is likely melting away. However, he seems utterly content as the figurative king kitty in the house of Butler.
Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: As I write today, I continue to try to get past this nasty cold (which Kim is now in the early stages of) which has dogged my holiday this year. In addition, we plan to pack up kit (cat) and caboodle on Saturday and head back to New York. In some odd way therefore, a cat house photo postcard seems like an appropriate post for you all to be reading as we are making our way back on Saturday.
This is an oddball card I ran across right before the holidays and which was delivered to New York before we left for Christmas. I purchased it on eBay which is was posted for sale for just a few sheckles so I was pleased to be the first to claim it. Not to say that I think it has very broad appeal – it could be said to be a card that only I (and a few other cat lovers) might find of interest.
Frankly, it is a bit dirty and tatty – the lower left corner has been torn – and was poorly printed as well, a wide white strip along the left side. For all of that, it is a great composition with the cat house dead center and those vertical trees bringing you eye right to it. There is the big house, back porch in evidence, behind it and a small additional shed that is similar to the house, on the right side. A long pipe chimney comes up from that roof which makes me wonder if it was perhaps a smokehouse. A tree runs up the right side of the card, closing the composition on that side.
This man and woman (proprietor and proprietress?) stand proudly on either side, their hands atop the cat house and his other hand pointing to it. Both look rather pleased with themselves and a dog is in evidence, although the proverbial (housed) cat is not. Some farm equipment is in evidence (pails, some sort of cart and a machine I cannot identify) are scattered about the yard. From the leaflessness of the trees and the coat sported by the woman I assume it is late fall or winter.
Back of card.
It was mailed on December 12, 1912 from Neosho, MO to Elizabeth Hitchcock, East Chatham, Colubmbia Co, New York, Route 1. It says, Helloo Sukey, Say this is a picture of Martha’s dog houses and cat house. I’ve been sick aint well yet, had pnemonia. I about coughed my head off. Merry Xmas and Happy New Year to all. from Grandpa.
Where are these dog houses? Do they produce them for sale?
Right up to Grandpa signature I thought it was a woman writing – don’t know why. Well, with the cat house, the coughing cold, Christmas and New Year’s greeting – I think this is spot on for a post-holiday post today. Back to toys tomorrow!
Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today I have a post of the cannot be and will not be of items that are not part of the Pictorama collection. It is the tantalizing netherworld of the might have been.
After all, I general troll constantly for one-of-a-kind objects that fit my areas of interest and therefore there is bound to be some loss among the gain and many failed attempts for a variety of reasons.
Sadly, today’s post is inspired by the worst kind of loss which has reminded me that to operate in my world one has to be prepared for a variety of eventualities.
To start with I have this wonderful Felix photo postcard for my collection and the sad inspiration for this post. Those longstanding readers know that these singular photo postcards of people posing with giant Felix dolls are the foundation of the photo side of my collection. I have not really assembled them to do a count but I own many and pretty much approach the situation as that these are must haves when they become available. Occasionally I lose one to a bid too low, but generally not for a healthy lack of trying. If you are going to wrestle it away from me you are going pay some serious money.
This card was not lost to another bidder, but saddest of all was won, paid for and now has gone missing in the mail! Searches have been completed and I even had a phone call from my mail woman. They can only confirm that it was delivered to the address of my high rise building – although they did go to the other buildings in the area to check. It has just disappeared. It was insured but because the post office says they delivered it the insurance won’t pay. I am out both the money but most importantly the card which is irreplaceable. It is a mystery. I share it here In Memoriam.
Copies being sold on eBay.
Up next is another whole and different category – the items I did not buy because they turned out to be reproductions. The language on some of these posts can be very hard to decipher – and occasionally all the way to deceptive. I am not actually saying that this one was deceptive however and I realized that this rather fascinating photo was a copy and did not purchase it. Somehow it remained in my watched folder of eBay to share with you today. That furry Felix costume is really weirdly memorable and he has the saddest Felix face! One should not ignore the charm of the donkey clad fellow on the other side. Hotsy totsy! I do wonder what the heck kind of vaudeville or other act this commemorated.
Lost in the confusion of a busy fall.
This nice Tuck card with a Louis Wain design was one of several offered by a Canadian seller. I admit to causing my own downfall as I was trying to purchase a group of them and got muddled. I made an offer which she turned down and then much later she ultimately made an offer, but I had my mind in other things (sadly I do actually have a job and try to get some work done Monday through Friday) and I missed that chance. Once I had myself together to circle back she has gone out of town with all on hiatus and I don’t know if it will ever happen now.
These cards do sell high and I appreciate that she bought them for her own collection and paid a lot – she just got me in a confused and busy moment. In the recent Louis Wain bio (Catland – review post is here) the author discusses how from the beginning Christmas or holiday illustrations and cards helped to make up the backbone of Wain’s annual income. His illustration of these cards were at the height of his career if I remember correctly. Meanwhile, I have several from the Felix collection and that post can be found here. Maybe more to come on these if she and I can sync up our communication.
Outlandishly high asking price.
This photo above has been kicking around in my watched folder for ages. As you can see, it bares the seller’s mark. They have named a ridiculous amount of money for it. While I understand that this is some sort of strategy I am not interested in engaging in a negotiation where someone is starting several hundred dollars more than I am willing to pay. This photo interests me, but not enough to engage in that dialogue. (It is still available for anyone who wishes to engage in the process!) I share the back as well. It is a press photo from February 28, 1931 of students from the Mardi Gras parade in the Latin Quarter of Paris looking into the Luxembourg Gardens.
Back of the photo above.
And sometimes I am just outbid. I try to be philosophical about that. If you are going to participate in auctions it will indeed happen. My father always gave me the advice his own mother gave him which is, figure out your maximum and stick to it. Gertie Butler was a true veteran of live auctions in her day – yes, I really do come by this interest naturally. She furnished an entire home with antiques this way. I often think of how much she would have loved eBay, although perhaps she liked the activity of going in person as well.
Lost to a high bidder.
Anyway, above is an example of a card that just went too high. Sometimes things go way high and at least there is comfort in that as I know I never would have paid that much. Other times, as in the case of this cat card, they go just beyond your top bid. I try to reassure myself that it isn’t likely that if I had gone just a tiny bit higher that it would be mine – after all, the person was likely to have gone higher too. It is just an illusion that you could have had it for a dollar more, probably not true.
This card has a lovely tuxie sitting on a sort of dressing table tray among potions, brushes and combs in order to admire the kitty in the mirror. I can’t tell if he understands that it is his image in the mirror or if he is among the type who thinks this fellow might be invading his turf – something about his expression makes me think the latter.
A never ran for Pictorama but very fun nevertheless.
I end today with a I will never own it because I didn’t bid on it item. This little gem of a wind-up ice cream seller from a Milestone Auction recently which I thought was super charming, but a bit outside my area of collecting. As it happens, many people must have agreed and it sold for a pretty rarified price. However, it passes through the Pictorama portals at least as a guest appearance as well.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: It just seems that periodically nothing will do but to purchase another Louis Wain card. They are a gentle mood enhancer – like champagne. I don’t want to immerse myself, but just sipping a bit of the bubbly is very cheering. I recently read and subsequently wrote about the new book devoted to him and tracking the emergence of the pet cat in the Victorian world (that post can be found here) and it sent me meandering over to eBay where I picked this up.
I highly recommend this recently published volume!
Presently, none of my Louis Wain cards hang here at Deitch Studio (which has, after all, very little wall space with Felix taking up more than his share. I’m starting to think there might be a nice spot at the house in New Jersey for my growing collection of these cards. You have to be able to get pretty close to these to fully enjoy them – they need to be at eye level.
Prepping for the Party is the title of this card. It’s a New Year’s card and at the bottom it declares, A very happy New Year to you and it is signed at the bottom, Your tru friend Ida. It was mailed on December 29, 1904 from Austin, Texas to Miss Dona Hannig, in Lockhart, Texas where it was marked received on December 30. (Without doing a proper survey of my posts, I would say 1904 was a very good year for postcards. It is, of course, well before the appearance of my beloved Felix, but the postcard world was buzzing with the likes of Louis Wain among others.)
Back of the card – most of mine come from Britain but this one came from and has been in the US.
In this card we have a very comic two cats doing some party primping. The standing cat, which in my opinion, is somehow inexplicably male, is helping to curl the long hairs of the gray cat. He is using curling papers which would have been heated, as I understand it, with a hot tong device. Understandably, gray cat is wondering what she has gotten herself into. He looks just the tiniest bit maniacal. Would you let this cat come at you with something dangerous? Maybe not…
Because of my chosen career in fundraising, I go to a lot of parties. Most are affairs which go right from the office to the event with barely a brush through the hair or application of lipstick. However, periodically there is a need to dust off the formal wear and put on the dog so to speak.
When I was younger and worked for the Metropolitan Museum there were numerous black tie events scattered through the calendar. There were annual events, the famous Costume Institute Gala in May, an annual dinner to raise money for Acquisitions in December, but with the various exhibition openings and whatnot, I kept a lot of formal wear at the ready, literally wearing out a series of long black dresses and trousers.
Before a major renovation of our offices there sometime in the late ’90’s, we would all gather in a huge women’s bathroom at one end of our hall of offices. It had, oddly for a bathroom, an enormous round window which faced the front entrance of the museum (it is now a gallery devoted to special exhibitions of Greek and Roman Art) and a very tricky and somewhat rickety blind covering it. It was always a question if you’d be able to close it – if you’d bother as well.
From the dinner at the Jazz at Lincoln Center Gala in April of 2023.
Fifteen or twenty women (or more!) squeezing into a such a space to dress always had a college dorm gone wild feel to it. There was a sense of community and corps d’esprit among us of course. Plenty of folks to zip you up, lend you something you forgot or help you with a run in your stockings. You dressed quickly so you could give up your space to someone waiting. The more experienced of us would start early and be done before the majority swept in.
At Jazz at Lincoln Center this was miniaturized with both a smaller staff and a much smaller space which necessitated thoughtful rotation. Sometimes I would just throw something over the window in my office which faced the hall and dress there. By then we had fewer black tie events it was mostly just our annual spring Gala.
My current gig will host its annual Top Dog Gala on Tuesday where we will celebrate the work of NYPD’s police dogs – each dog named for an officer who died in the line of duty. (My evening as a guest to it last year can be found documented in a post here.) Everywhere I have worked in the past has been a destination for events so I have never had to use a venue which we will this week. This greatly alters my sense of control which I am dealing with. I gather that they will devote a greenroom to our dressing needs so another variation to add to the theme – bad lighting (for make-up!) and cramped space.
Top Dog Gala in December 2023.
I used to wonder what it would be like to dress at home and at my leisure for such events. This is of course the difference between working and being a guest! Carefully packing will commence this weekend and I will bring my things on Monday so I have a second chance on Tuesday if I’ve forgotten anything. I wardrobe dry run needs to happen this weekend. It is festive attire and between that and having lost a bunch of weight recently I am in new territory for attire.
Think of us on Tuesday. A couple of million dollars has been raised and we will honor these hard working dogs whose care we endeavor to care for at the hospital, a longstanding partnership with the city. I’d like to work toward a Top Cat year and perhaps today’s card more appropriate for that eventuality!
As is sometimes the case I am on the train and taking a moment to start this post. It is a wet and dark Thanksgiving morning and the train to NJ is crowded. (I can only imagine how crowded the trains on the other side of the tracks going into the city are!) I had to hoof it four blocks to Penn Station in a pouring rain.
Luckily, I was dressed for the elements (that coat I mentioned buying in last week’s post arrived – it is excellent) and traveling fairly lightly. There are a bunch of small hotels near there and many families, clearly here for the parade and holiday, were milling around in front of them, despite the rain. I feel badly for them – even these modest hotels cost them a fortune and it should be a nice treat for the kids – too bad about the rain! Kids looked pretty perky anyway.
The last few minutes of my entry into Red Bank on the train.
I had actually planted myself in NJ on Tuesday night – smartly avoiding the worst of the travel press. Kim had decided to sit this one out in Manhattan so I was hoping for a few days there doing errands and working in the garden to prep it for winter. Then Blackie stopped eating on Tuesday night and the malaise it continued and worsened Wednesday morning. Therefore, I had to come back to New York and we had to take him to the hospital where I work now.
I will start by saying that his vet was responsive in a way that I don’t think any of us feel we can expect from our own doctors let alone our vets. Despite being the day before Thanksgiving, she answered my email at 7:30 am right away and we exchanged several emails before making the decision to bring him in. First, we tried an external stimulant which Kim picked up and applied to no avail.
It was a remarkable relief to see familiar faces around me and helping with him. It had seemed somewhat impersonal in the past when I went there but now I am family. This is especially notable because I have felt isolated at this job and it has been hard to get to know people. However, one of my friends (one of the first people I met there and got to know – she is a Veterinarian Technician) carried him out to me and despite his anxiety he clearly enjoyed Erica’s attentions – that woman knows how to pet a cat!
This stuff is like kitty crack but if they won’t eat it is a very good go to.
His illness, or disinterest in food specifically, remains a mystery. After I got him to eat some Churu at the hospital we decided to take him home last night. I’m glad we did; it was the right decision. He’s diabetic and I wouldn’t be surprised if we don’t have to take him in again for a glucose test which will take a full day, but with the holiday if we can get him to eat even small amounts I would rather have him home. He ate a small breakfast for me this morning and so I am heading back to NJ where I will have a handful of friends coming for dinner!
***
Thanksgiving was a quiet affair with the aforementioned couple of friends. I had a winter gardening frenzy of bulb planting (luckily the ground was soft from that Thanksgiving rain) and trimming the dahlias and bagging them up for the winter. Lastly, the geraniums needed to be taken out of the front planters and they are potted and living in the kitchen for now. The trellises I grew my cucumbers on are tucked away in the garage. I had hoped to do more cleanup in the veggie patch but didn’t have time.
Taken this morning. A bit perkier and wondering what on earth Kim and I will do to him next though.
I returned to New York Friday evening. Blackie has resumed eating more regularly but still requiring a stimulant and some encouragement. Essentially we are now in a stage where he’ll eat really good stuff but is still turning his nose up at the healthier real food we expect him to eat. However, he just wolfed down a smidge of smoked salmon so I would say his eating instincts are not totally disabled.
Cookie is taking full advantage of the situation. To be clear, we are martinets when it comes to the cats eating habits. They eat at 6am and 6pm. They get a mix of canned food and dry food is out for them. We have not introduced treats into their lives except to inveigh them to eat on the onset of their stint in New Jersey. When they both stopped eating the first time I was introduced to Churu treats and keep them on hand for such events. Those things must be like kitty crack is all I can say.
Cookie napping recently. I must say, she doesn’t seem concerned about Blackie but is happy about all the treats in the house.
I brought some Churu back from New Jersey with me as Kim had used up our small stash. Cookie keeps taking us over to it and showing it to us – hoping we will take the hint and give her some.
I know I haven’t written much about this new gig. This past year I have been working to get a lot under my belt in a very different area of fundraising and in a very specific place. Building this fundraising operation to full throttle is a journey which has only just launched. I wouldn’t have Blackie or Cookie (or Beau, Gus, Milty, Peaches and Stormy – the NJ Five) sick for anything obviously, but in some ways this recent incident has informed me with an interesting piece of the puzzle for fundraising there.
Some of what I experienced was clearly because I am a staff member, but having used them before with a substantial illness with Blackie, the good communication and much of what I experienced was in play then too – which influenced my decision to take this job. It is a special place, in part possible because it is a non-profit. My job is figuring out how to unlock all its potential.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: Just coming off the Louis Wain Catland bio (I posted about that last week and it can be found here) I am self-consciously thoughtful suddenly about how the public sentiment about cats has shifted over the past 100+ years since humans just started finding their sea legs with them as domestic beloveds.
It wasn’t long after the Victorian period that cats were taken up in popular advertising at the dawn of the 20th century. This grinning black kit with the yellow bow was the longstanding spokes-cat for the Black Cat Hosiery company and was so popular for decades that the advertising items from it remain in high demand and often is quite pricey today. (This bit of an ad with thanks to Sandi Outland, via @curiositiesantique who sent it several months back – the the sea, my desk has spit it up from the depths for today’s consideration and helped inspire this post.)
I have written about the company on other occasions so if you want more info on the company you can find it in a post here – and more here. The above ad is from a July, 1907 McCalls magazine and other ads on the page are for, most fascinatingly, H&H Pneumatic Bust Forms (yes, like stuffing your bra – no one will know) and Modene hair removal for face, neck and arms – it cannot fail! Our black cat was in good company.
Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.
So in a mere few decades cats began to morph into the area they would command for many decades to come. However, I think it is fair to say that with the part of our lives that are now lived online some of us have taken our interest in cats to a much more highly developed level.
A photo of a young Betty Butler, holding our cat Snoopy back in the 1960’s from a Mother’s Day post this year.
Speaking for myself, my interest in cats began as a small child. Pictorama readers know that I have written numerous times about my childhood cat friends, Snoopy, a white cat with black cow spots with whom I shared many important childish conversations. But there was also Pumpkin who came to me as a tiny kitten ball of orange fluff and grew into an enormous faded-orange tabby who followed me around with dog-like devotion. As I got older my cat Winkie, a tiny tortie polydactyl with huge toed front paws like mitts, was my particular confidant. As a young adult Otto Dix (Miss Otto Dix), a tuxie from a corn farm in New Jersey, became my constant companion and closest friend, a very special cat especially smart cat who I still miss to this day.
However, until relatively recent years, my love and interest in cats (other than what I collect of course) was limited largely to those I knew – mostly my own or those of my mother. I suppose it started even before the pandemic, but certainly during those long days and nights that following cats online became a habit. First there was Maru the Japanese cat (to be precise, a Scottish Straight cat who lives in Japan) who can’t resist box and likes to get into boxes, some that are way too small for him. There was the somewhat neurotic French cat, Henri, a long haired tuxie who has Existential angst. The French also brought us cats playing Paddy Cake which never fails to make me laugh and for some reason is only funny to me in the French – there is an English version.
Still, those were occasional and one-off entertainment. I believe for me that cats as a form of online entertainment and escapism was born of the darkest period of the pandemic, fueled by late nights of waking up and worrying about work. Unable to sleep, I would read Judy Bolton novels (the first in a lot of early series books I read and I wrote about Judy Bolton here) and take a spin through Instagram, sometimes buying the odd item, but also entering the world of cats online and sometimes following even their most daily routines.
I’m probably skipping ahead a bit but Sadie and Dottie (@sadieanddottie), a tuxie and a white kit with cow spots, and who appear to live in Queens, brightened many a dark day when I realized a new post or story had been posted. These largely consist of these two cats growing up, but mostly doing cat stuff like watching birds and napping. Yes, I can watch my own cats do that (although Deitch Studio is situated a little high for birds out the window) and I do, but it turns out I like to watch other cats do it too.
A screen grab of this little video of Sadie.
With almost 14,000 viewers cat mom Lauren Grummel and cat dad Chas Reynolds, Jr. appear to have their hands full supplying frequent doses of their kitties going through their daily paces. A favorite post is an imaginative one of Sadie (the tux) sailing away on a boat at night in search of parents who will give her more treats instead of telling her she’s had enough. (Find it here.)
There is @Fatfink (aka Devlin Thompson) who I first got to know on Facebook, but now is an Instagram constant. His record of the comings and goings of his small menagerie of four cats, (these days Clawford, Kookie, Mr. Biscuits and Miss Rupert), which includes some recent rescues and things like his daily fight over his dinner with them or other such tidbits, are interspersed with an aligned interest in comics – but it is really over the kits that we bond. He sends me great cat videos too which I often find first thing in the morning and cheer my day.
Newly acquired Clawford.Clawford recently introduced to this rather rarified Deitch portfolio!
A friend on the west coast started supplying me with both funny and moving video snippets of cats during the difficult period of caring for my mother although she continues to send them since I like them so much. These videos, many from The Dodo are chock-a-block full of cats paired with a myriad of other odd animals as friends (deer, dogs, cows) or doing un-catlike activities like motorcycle riding or boating. It is especially lovely and a real kindness as she herself isn’t especially fond of cats so she seeks them out just for me.
Most recently I have fallen hard for team Penny and Felix on Instagram. Penny (@pennythegingercat) is a somewhat sardonic and absolutely adorable orange tabby female (yes, a rarity) and Felix (@felixthepalegingercat) her younger brother, a lean and lanky light orange fellow. (Penny alone has upwards of 650,000 followers!)
The antics of these two (two accounts means twice the fun) include but are not limited to: Felix’s impatience over getting his breakfast in the morning, Penny’s preference of Dad over Mom, Penny sleeping as a face down loaf and the like. These have cheered me endlessly over the past year. Highlights have included Penny entering the Olympics this year as a gold medal winning cat loaf champion and I credit the duo for having invented the term skippity pap (or at least made it enter my personal lexicon) – which is accompanied by a sort of whoosh-smack sound effect that is especially satisfying. It is among the few accounts I turn my sound on for routinely.
The dynamic cat duo’s mom and dad (mom is the voice over for the most part) do a brilliant job of editing, voice over – they are top pros at it and I bless them daily for these inventive missives that come over my transom, brightening all days. Quite simply I cannot recommend them enough for a cat dopamine daily dose.
Four out of the NJ Five here – Gus missing.Blackie and Cookie peevishly sharing the bed with each other and of course Kim recently.
I have written before about social media and my belief that if content is carefully chosen and tended it can be a rabbit hole of blissful escapism. During the brutal hustle and full-on assault of our shifting political world I have found myself diving deeply into this somewhat alternate universe of cats. As the mother of the NYC duo Cookie and Blackie, and the Jersey Five (Beau, Milty, Gus, Peaches and Stormy) and the head of fundraising for a major emergency animal hospital – you’d think I would get enough daily dose of the kitty world, but simply, no – quite simply, I prefer even more.
I started subscribing to a daily newspaper in high school and have more or less read one daily every since, butI lately find my ability to read above the fold reduced to a nervous skittering across headlines as I head down the page to stories about things like a research study on puppy kindergarten – the super socializing of puppies to see if they make better service animals (NYT and can be found here). So today I pay tribute to those folks online who may not inform my politics, nor deliver my news, but who are vital community which cheers my daily existence.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: A friend and colleague who began her life in Finland (she lives in Ohio today and works remotely for me a few hours a week), told me the other day that when she was little parents were so invested in the idea of the Christmas holiday that it was common to hire a Santa to come to the house. She said that when she realized that Santa wasn’t real, she felt she could not say anything because it would hurt her parents.
I love that story, and I have great affection for this card I just bought which shows the other side of Nordic holiday spirit. I am unsure what country this originally hailed from, although I purchased it from someone in the Netherlands who also did not know the origin of the card. There is a tiny NTG in the lower left corner and writing in another language and incredibly small that I cannot decipher. The internet was not much help on this front although another seller of postcards thought NTG was German. I have not found evidence of other cards like it, but perhaps a series of them lurks somewhere yet.
Gnomes are evidently thought to deliver Christmas presents in Scandinavia in the 18th and 19th centuries, helpers to Father Christmas. (Families left bowls of porridge for them – perhaps a bit less appealing than our cookies and milk!) I would suspect this is where the idea of our elves as Santa’s helpers come from.
I will say that I purchased this card on eBay for very little and utterly uncontested! I gather that I am the only one who was looking who saw its charm, but I am pleased to add it to the Pictorama collection.
Of course it turned up for me because of the weird tabby cat. If you look very closely he appears to have a tiny antler, possibly drawn on. Puss seems to be pouncing on him while this gnome protects Santa with this long stick. Santa and the gnome are small children in costume and the cat is, well a cat, probably one that hung around the photo studio catching mice and playing bit parts. His tail is curled upward and we can see his nice white tummy and white feet. I think we can assume if left to his own devices he would have liked to knead biscuits on the Santa suit and take a cat nap.
Santa plays his role with some drama – oh no, the antlered cat attack – his cottony beard, brows and hair contributing to his look. The gnome goes at it with great gusto as well. Also beard and with curling hair coming out of his pointy cap (his own?) he grins with gnome-ish fervor as he saves Santa. I like his pointy shoes.
One can imagine that the day shooting this was pretty much a good time for all. The set certainly is stark with a few large stones to the left and in front and this sort of nest of twigs behind the gnome. In addition to that odd little antler being drawn in, a very careful examination shows a very small smattering of white dots down the middle of the card which I assume are meant to be snowflakes. Otherwise this is a rather barren set making it feel a bit like Santa on the Moon.
Back of the card – no evidence of being mailed despite being addressed.
I share the back of this card which I cannot decipher although omitie appears to be Romanian and means to omit – I assume that this was meant to say – I didn’t forget Edmund! While fully addressed there is no evidence of it being mailed with a stamp or cancellation. The writing in pencil seems to be earlier seller’s marks. So was it just dropped by a mailbox perhaps?
So here we go, kicking off this holiday season here at Pictorama. This photo postcard embodies both some humor, but also a tiny bit of historic grit and well, a pleasant sort of meanness. Just what we need as we sally forth into the season ahead.
Pam's Pictorama 