old cat photo

Old Tom, the Washington Post Office Cat

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Scan(4)Pam’s Pictorama: This old press photo has revealed a world of cat lore I knew nothing about prior to researching it. Evidently cats by the dozens were employed by the US Post Office at the turn of the century to catch rodents that were especially attracted to the glue used on envelopes and packages at the time. In short order it took me to this splendid blogging colleague, The Hatching Cat, (I subscribed immediately) wherein his post, 1904: The Feline Police Society he outlines the fascinating society specifically of the New York post office cat force. It is a very jolly read, and I won’t steal much thunder from it except to say, the New York Post Office had a very large and extremely well organized force of felines for this purpose. There were first-class cats and second-class cats – they even knew to assemble and take the elevator when chow was served. Brilliant!

Back to our friend who seems to be a rather singular member of the Washington force, residing in the nation’s capital circa 1922. The back of this 5″x7″ photo reads, ‘Old Tom’, who has been catching rats in Post office [sic] department at Washington for 17 years. A14 Reference Dept September 11 1922 N.E.A. In pencil cats has also been scrawled, as well as the rather cryptic 1/2 cal Levs. Tom, this old, old timer as we’d call him in our house, was pretty famous.

Tom appears to have been featured in numerous articles period articles – some in what appear to be postal newsletters to the trade, others in newspapers of the day. The Spokane Daily Chronicle featured a story on Tom receiving a box of catnip for Christmas from one admiring Kittie (yes, Kittie) Thomas. This article appears in the September 14 issue, so perhaps she responded quickly to an article which accompanied the photo in another article? Coincidence? Below is a more comprehensive version that appeared in the Postal Record, volume 35, ’22.

Old Tom on a Rampage Old Tom the veteran Post Office Department cat is on a jag. Meanwhile the few remaining rats and mice that have escaped his relentless pursuit are relaxing the eternal vigilance that is responsible for their present existence. The mail man recently brought Old Tom a package neatly wrapped and bearing a 7 cent stamp It was addressed to The Postoffice at Tom Washington DC and was from Mrs Kittie Thomas 433 Shiawassee street Lansing Mich. Being a long ways from Christmas Tom’s superiors the watchmen began a spirited speculation as to the contents of the package. Not so Tom His sense of smell caused him to fall in love with it immediately and he could hardly restrain his impatience until it was opened. Yes. It was catnip and Tom is enjoying his first time off since the Roosevelt administration when he came into office. The watchmen at first were inclined to be resentful of ‘outside interference’ with Tom’s duties but when the increasing boldness of the rodent colony was observed the became general that when Tom recovers he will be able to capitalize the boldness and more than make up for the time lost of his spree. So far as is known Tom is not acquainted with his benefactress but that is not surprising in view of the fact that he has received more publicity than many public men and has been heard of in all sections of the country.

The Hermitage museum is well known for the generations of cats, ratters and mousers, in the basement. (I had hoped I might catch a glimpse of one when visiting – I even got lost and wandered out of the galleries and into a private space, but no. Those cats know how to stay behind the scenes I guess.) Many of you know I work for a large (and very old) museum in New York City. I have been suggesting the employment of cats for years, sadly to no avail. Perhaps this post will change their minds.

Springtime with Kittens

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Pam’s Pictorama Post Post: This photo postcard is just so neat and tidy – I love it. A woman settled into this leafy patch, perfect white picket fence behind, with two wonderful kittens and a dog who appears to be very happy to guard all involved. The little handful of striped kitten on her shoulder seems a bit smaller (younger) than the one on her lap, but perhaps that is because we cannot see him or her clearly and they are siblings. The gray kitten is all happy sleepiness although that striped one looks like trouble. What is it with those tabby cats?

The woman looks like she is pleased to be posing with her pets on her mossy seat – and she is nicely turned out. I especially like those print stockings. This is an odd question, but is that a small photo sticking out of her hair? Keeps catching my eye. The gray kitten looks just like a pair of identical kittens I had when I was a kid – Ping and Pong, the offspring of Winkie. I can easily imagine being this contented woman – posing with my precious pets!

The back of this card reads, Kind regards & best wishes, Yours Sincerely, L. Scrugg 13.8.13. It is written in a beautiful, looping hand in red pen. It was never mailed. Like many, it must have been given to the recipient and treasured, as it remains today in our house.

Girls and Kittens

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: The purchase of this photo was one of those rare examples of good things coming to those who wait. I spied it, but just could not pay the premium price on it. Lucky for me it didn’t sell and the seller marked it down – and I scooped it up. It is a British press photo, although it also has a brief German tag on the back.  These read as follows:

FARMYARD PETS – FL/JN 17 10 32
Charming farm girls at a Hampshire farm, with their tiny pets, enjoying the morning sunshine. PHOTOPRESS
Copyright by PHOTOPRESS Phone: Central 5335 Johnson’s Court, Fleet St., London E.O.4

6×2 = KATZEN
Englische Farmgirls mit ihren Lieblingen.

Reprinted in a German paper perhaps? It was sold to me by someone in Britain however. These girls seem to be wearing uniforms for the equivalent of a Girl Scout or Girl Guides I guess they are there. I am sure someone could explain the jaunty beanie on the one – an indication of higher rank perhaps. I did a few not-so-memorable years in the Scouts myself, but I will save that for another time. Even then I preferred the earlier uniforms I saw in our outdated guide books. Not sure how I would have felt about these bloomer types however.

This 8 x 10 photo is crystal clear and it is hard to say who is cuter, the kittens or the young girls. The photographer had a great eye. The fence and the pattern it creates is a great composition somehow, although it literally cuts the image in half. Both girls and cats seem to be in fine form, although as cats will be, some of these kits are a bit more put out than others by their temporary imprisonment. Typically, I am drawn to the cute little all black fellow who looks right into the camera and wants action. The four striped ones (same litter those?) are all poised for an escape, or in the case of the one dead center, at least a whack at that black kitten. Only the white kitty seems relaxed and enjoying the moment.

Farm cats are a splendid, high spirited breed all their own and I have been fortunate to know several. Among my cats of days gone by Snoopy, Winkie, Otto and Roscoe were all farm born. Otto came from a corn farm in New Jersey and especially loved to roll around in a bit of corn silk in the kitchen in the summer – the smell clearly bringing back images of her early days. It might be my imagination, but I have always thought that barn cats were a bit smarter than other cats. But that could just be a form of cat prejudice rearing its head. Don’t tell my Brooklyn born Cookie and Blackie!

The ABC’s of Kitties

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School scene

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: I was watching this postcard on eBay and forgot about the auction. Kim noticed it coming up for auction and scored it for me as a Christmas gift. It is of a certain genre, but I never saw one very much like it before.

All three cats look peevish, including the one sitting on the shelf behind the little girl – what project have they been gotten into now?  The one on the lap of the boy thinking, “Okay – so it’s a cat. So what?” I generally refer to that as a piss cat expression in our house.

While I am sorry for these kitties, I cannot begin to catalogue all the games I made my cat play when I was a child. I remember putting a reluctant Snoopy (patient heavy-set male, white with black spots) in a baby carriage on myriad occasions. I also distinctly remember trying to balance the cat on the back of the German Shepard – circus animals! Without success of course. (And I used to try to ride the dog like a small pony – but I guess that is a dog story.) Still, that cat slept with me and remained game for whatever I stirred up as a kid. The dog followed me around faithfully (I’m sure I was good for dropping bits of food here and there) and would have ripped anyone who tried to hurt me in two.

Kim feels strongly that I should not dress the cats up and take their picture, despite an equally strong desire on my part. I guess you never really grow up. However, I’m sure Cookie and Blackie thank Kim for saving them from that indignity.

Pajama Party

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post:   Sleepover! Oddly, despite the jammies, the women all sport shoes, and for the most part, have socks on. Their hair is neatly done and the pajamas don’t look as though they were yet slept in. Only one night gown wearer among them and a variety of pajama ensembles – I like the dark striped pair on the woman with the black cat best. This fine feline fellow clearly could be Blackie’s ancestor, although I can’t see the tell tale white spot on the chest. What a great little guy though!

This photo postcard was pasted into an album, bits of the black paper still stuck to the back, but there is no writing on the card. I wonder when I see photo postcards like this – why a postcard? Was it so each of the women could have one? Why not just a photo? It isn’t the first time when viewing a rather singular image from someone’s life on a postcard that I have pondered this. Before I started collecting them I thought photo postcards were generally done by itinerant photographers or at seaside resorts. Clearly there were ones being made by amateurs like snap shots.

There is no evident likeness, so if these women are related I doubt they are sisters. The story here seems to be lost to the sands of time, but there was a jolly sunny morning, probably close to 100 years ago, when some young women, in their pajamas, scooped up their young black cat and had their photo taken. And a good time was had by all!

Nice pajamas makes me think about several years ago when I agreed to visit some folks for my job (I am a fundraiser for anyone who doesn’t know) and this required that a colleague and I spend the night at their house in a somewhat remote part of Connecticut. I realized that, although it was unlikely and undesirable that anyone would see me in my sleeping attire, it was tempting fate to show up to sleep in one of Kim’s torn t-shirts, silk slip or other common sleeping attire of the time. But where to go to buy something respectable to wear to bed?

It finally occurred to me, walking home along Madison Avenue after dinner out one night – Brooks Brothers! And yes, indeed, Brooks Brothers makes what I can only describe as the office equivalent of sleepwear in the form of cotton pajamas – much like the ones sported here. However, over time owning that first pair, the cotton softened and they eventually became my own permanent sleep and lounge uniform. I am, in fact, blissfully wearing them now as I write this.

 

Chow Time

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cats eatingPam’s Pictorama Photo Post: As far as I can tell, written at the top is Daly Ranch and what a fine farm it seems to be! I count fifteen cats here – although close inspection might make an argument for a sixteenth. It came from a photo album and there’s nothing written on the back. This looks like a pretty happy gathering of the tribe – although that dish looks a little small to keep this crowd happy. (And are those wanted posters of cats on the back building I wonder?) More interesting than great photography, this photo is very a pleasing idea for me. I mean, who doesn’t want a farm full of cats?

When I was little our cats came running whenever we used the electric can opener (do they even make those any longer?) which is how cat food cans were opened at that time, before the pop top most use today. Later, they also came to my mother calling Chow time! And, in fact, if a cat went missing we were more likely to call that than their name. This gang stampeding at feeding time was the first thing I thought of when I saw this.

Whenever Kim and I talk about striking it rich, or a well-endowed retirement, I usually reply cheerfully, Cat farm in Connecticut. Why Connecticut I’m not entirely sure. Art Spiegelman once described such a place to me in Connecticut – actually a sort of retirement home for cats – and I think it stuck in my mind. Although I see it as something the size of a horse farm, but just lots and lots of delighted kitties – and I spend my days romping with them and dispensing ear and chin rubs.

 

 

Scratching Post

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Bad Kitty! No scratching! How very many times have I repeated that phrase? Like all cat people, ours is an uneasy treaty with our little wild animals in our one room apartment version of Eden. We are loath to allow the destruction of beloved antiques (oh those caned chairs – like this fellow is going at) or expensive couches and rugs. I love the little devils more than any piece of furniture, but it can get expensive and annoying. There are scratching posts, cardboard boxes with catnip and whatnot where scratching is sanctioned – encouraged in fact. Obviously, declawing is not a phrase we utter in this house.

Like bunnies and beavers which have to nibble and gnaw in order to keep their teeth filed, I guess cats need to scratch to keep their claws sharp and from getting too long. Still, scratching is more than that to a cat – there is joy to scratching. Scratching is a way of marking your turf – it’s a statement. As shown here – it is both a cross cultural phenomenon, Mr. French cat, and one that goes back quite aways.

Blackie is the first cat of my acquaintance who appears to not have so much as a clue as to what the various scratching devices scattered around our tiny apartment are to be used for. He watches Cookie happily scratching away – putting some real back into it. But he has never so much as taken a side swipe at one of them – I have tried every type: cardboard, carpet, rope, large, hanging and on the floor. We’ve showered them in catnip – tried running his feet across them. If anything he seems horrified by them. This does lead to some friction. I occasionally tell him he would be a PERFECT cat if only he could figure that out.

Meanwhile, although my cat Otto knew all about scratching posts and employed them, she had a fetish about Kim’s work chair. She is shown below, in a former apartment, in a series of polaroids Kim took over several days in April, 1995. Evidently she would take the chair on every day at the same time. Needless to say, she eventually denuded the entire chair. Kim continued to use it however, until the frame too fell apart one day, years later.

Otto 4/16/95

Otto 4/16/95

Otto 4/17/19

Otto 4/17/19

Otto 4/25/05

Otto 4/25/05

Mona + Boots

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: This is the kind that makes up one strata of my cat photo collection. Happy people posing with their cats, and I have written about it at some length in previous posts. (Found here including A Girl and Her Cat, a title I seem to have used again – A Girl and Her Cat, and for the boys, Men and Cats.)

There is no date, but I am guessing that Mona and Boots are shown here in the 1940’s – based on her hair and clothes. Boots is exactly the kind of lovely fat (I will guess boy) cat that I like best – have a good look at that mug on this guy. People always seem at their best in a photo with a cat – it relaxes them and makes them less self-conscious. I am also a fan of photos with these snaggle-tooth edges that I remember from my early childhood.

It used to make me sad to see family photos scattered to the four winds, sitting in a box in a flea market. After all, I can’t rescue them all. (I’m sure I’ve mentioned that we live in a studio apartment which we have crammed all this – and more – into.) However, over time it is interesting to me that these photos have somehow transcended their original record of these folks (and cats) that had emotional meaning for someone.

Now these are images of interest in their own right, a representation of a specific time and place, seventy or more years ago now, Mona with her pleated skirt, ankle socks and carefully curled hair, standing in her lovely Anywhere USA neighborhood, and holding Boots who looks exactly like any number of friendly pudgy tuxedo cats today. While I will continue to bemoan what the loss of the family photo album means to our visual cultural history of record, at least my future self will not be sad to see boxes of unloved photos at the flea markets of the future. The images of today and tomorrow will largely float along some place in the electronic world of the internet, along with this post.

Three of a Kind

Three of a Kind

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: As a self-professed lover of the tuxedo cat genre this photo called my name. There’s nothing on the back, but I imagine this as three generations of one family of cats. The rather sour-pussed mom to the back, an adolescent kitten, and one from the latest batch. My idea of heaven – a pile of black and whiters tumbling around together in the backyard or house. It is the youngest kit in this group whose markings I like best – that white mustache is a hoot! If I were to hazard a guess I would say that the younger of the two is a female and the one up front, a guy. He probably grew into a lovely friendly boy, who got a little hefty and liked lots of pets. Boy cats are that way – the girls are wily and smart, and you pet them as they run by you on their way to complete their urgent cat business.

While I understand that the markings on a cat creates a strictly anthropomorphic response in me, I cannot help myself. My cat Otto had a perfect black mustache on a white mouth – Charlie Chaplin or Hitler, depending on your predilection. When selecting Cookie and Blackie most recently, it was Cookie’s comical, symmetrical yet somewhat off kilter markings that caught my eye. In the end, Blackie has certainly emerged as the most handsome kitty, but I will always be attracted to white paws, bib and a good mustache! Cookie sold the pair of them to me initially. Many of you Facebook followers have seen the recent photo of Cookie and Blackie I offer below.

Cookie & Blackie 2015

Breaking News

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: This is an image I have seen and been entertained by before. For some reason I decided to buy this particular card because of the writing on the front – not often, but sometimes that seems to make a postcard call to me.

This card was addressed to Miss Edith Farrington and quite simply, Hartman, NY sent on October 17. 1905 is my best guess from the postmark – there is evidence of a stamp but it is gone. On the front, Frank I. Grim with Best Regards and Come again. However, the best are, I thought you had forgotten me (there’s exuberance, isn’t there?) and my favorite, exact picture of our cat– pointing to a feisty looking fellow (or girl, but feels like fellow) on the end.

Flirtation! We are left wondering if he got the girl. Since Edith seems to have kept this, we will assume so. It does leave me wondering where and if future generations will be able to find any sweet remnants of love and courtship from days gone by. Emails printed and saved? Long abandoned blogs and online diaries? Interesting to consider our electronic ghosts of the future.