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Tom Turkey and Cats

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: As another Thanksgiving slips into the past, sending us racing toward Christmas and the New Year, it seems to me like a moment to pause and consider the relationship between large fowl and cats – sort of an interesting one. As shown here, they can certainly co-exist, but there always seems to be something lurking deep in the instinctual cat brains which is saying,  “It’s really large alright, but I think I can take him. Yum!” I don’t know off-hand if cats actually do kill turkeys, geese or other large birds. I may have told the story of the neighbor’s cat, Tiger Lily, who jumped on the back of a goose one day with evil intention, only to be taken out into the river by the irate bird – requiring her to abandon her plan and swim back to shore. This leads me to think that for a cat killing a goose is harder than it looks. Turkeys look even tougher.

As some of you may know, my mother aided and rescued injured water fowl for years. More often then ducks or geese, this most frequently took the form of swans with various injuries – many had swallowed fishing line which required surgical removal by a vet, but others had been pinioned and thoughtlessly left to starve in a pond with no food source. (Swans, geese and ducks cannot survive on scraps of bread and food does not just appear in small man-made ponds for them.) Anyway, at one time my mother had a (relatively) small swan she was caring for and she would bring it into the house at night. Water rats can and will kill an injured bird so it was necessary and I cannot remember why the garage was not a suitable place. Anyway, my mother’s cats would all watch with huge, shining eyes when this swan was brought past them, through the house, to spend the night in the guest bathroom. They would gather by the closed bathroom door…considering, thinking, dreaming.

This card was never sent, but on the back, in pencil is written Lottie’s Tom & cats. Lottie’s gray cats have clearly multiplied and to my count there are seven in this photo. The one with the white bib looks somewhat philosophical, but the two gray ones coming at the camera – and Tom the turkey for that matter – have something more in mind. They are coming right at the camera. Take care, turkey eaters!

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

Kitten Women

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Kitten Women

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Who can resist taking a photo of new kittens? Clearly the instinct goes back pretty far, as shown here. This card is very beaten up, but I do love it. The alternating height of the women, black and white of the skirts – and in fact kittens! – is wonderful. It is a well composed and thoughtfully executed photo, in addition to the design of the women and cats, the foreground divides against the rising background nicely. It could almost be a set, but is not.

For all of that, it is very poorly printed – negative unevenly placed and black edges showing on two sides, and printed upside down on the postcard stock. Sloppy. Makes me assume that the person who took it was not the person who printed it. Either that or they couldn’t help having a great eye, even if they didn’t much care about the end product of their work. Nothing is written on the back and it was never mailed.

The shorter women of the four, #2 and #4, have tiny, nipped-in waists and are the more fashionably dressed. The women in white seem to be a bit tattier – especially their shoes. No one really looks a lot alike among the four, although if you really study them a case could be made for them being sisters or otherwise related.

Among the kittens, of course I have a soft spot for that black one, #3, curled up contentedly in the hands of the one woman. Cat #1 has annoyed ears, #2 napping, and #4 is the action one – poised for adventure. Let him get at it!

Clowning Around

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post:  I have owned this jolly photo for a long time and it sits on a shelf in our living room. It is unused and undated and sort of just slips in under the wire for a Halloween-theme month post. I associate this genre of costume with the teens or twenties, and the extraordinary enthusiasm for dressing up that never seems to fully resume after the thirties – when clearly people were too poor and things too somber for such frivolity. I have a fascination for this kind of long-gone dress up and it is one of the things I regret I missed being born into the age that I was.

As I examine this card I wonder anew, what is the aviator doing among the matching clowns? I admire his individuality, and can’t help but wonder if there is a story there. (Fly these clowns to the moon, right away!) The clown woman in the upper left corner is the only one who didn’t even manage a semblance of a smile; she appears pensive. I can’t tell if the bower of roses is real (I think it is) or fake, and there is what seems to be confetti on their costumes and on the ground below them. A fair perhaps? Halloween? Whatever it was, looks like a good time was had by all and I wish I could have been there!

Uninvited Guests

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: If you are a cat or a dog, is there anything better than an unattended table of food? Nope – it is the best. I particularly like the way the two dogs are seated in their chairs, very polite. Sadly, the bright sun seems to have lead to an over-exposure and the precise nature of the treats is a bit obscured.

It brings to mind a stolen food story – one of many, as I am sure all of us with pets can recount. One morning I had set a small bowl of cooked asparagus out on the counter to use in an omelet. I left the kitchen briefly and when I returned the asparagus was entirely gone. Turns out my cat Otto (who loved asparagus) had stolen each and every stalk – and piled it up, neatly, behind the bathroom door.

On the back of this card, written in an absolutely perfect, looping handwriting, it says, Dec. 9, 11- Very many thanks for the Bucks paper. I hope you had a fine day for your visitors yesterday. It was a wet afternoon here, but lovely today. With much love, Sophie. It is addressed: Mrs. Jarvis, 10 Waterloo Crescent Dover. It appears to have been mailed from St. John’s Wood. (I was surprised that it came from Great Britain originally.) The year is obscured on the postmark.

Notes like this, dropped in a mail that was picked up and delivered no less than two times a day, remind me of today’s email. Just a few lines – and you knew the recipient would receive it shortly. In Paris there was a system of pneumatic tubes which worked in conjunction with a staff of messengers well into the 1970’s. This fascinated me when I learned about it a few years ago. Faxes seemed to have skipped the more social aspect of communication, but email and IM have more than made up for it, except you don’t get the great postcard image with it.

Jenny Reed

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: This photo postcard of this nicely turned out little girl with her cat attracted me in part because of the extreme patience on the part of that kitty. Clearly he is used to being held this way by his pint-sized mistress. The image is timeless, but her black button boots and fluffy dress take us back to the earliest part of the 20th century.  There is no date, however written on the back is the following: Jenny Reed and below in smaller writing but the same pen and hand, Lillie Peckwine Grand Daughter and at the bottom, same hand, but different pen, bernie (sic) Reed.

Somewhere my parents have a photo of me, wearing an old Snoopy sweatshirt age more or less 8, holding our cat – also named Snoopy – in approximately the same pose. I have mentioned Snoopy before – a boy-cat, white with black cow-spots – who was my introduction to cats. He was ever patient, both with me and the German Shepard, Duchess, and they were my constant companions who figured largely in my daily play world.

To Kim’s ongoing amusement I will occasionally pick Blackie up and carry him around this way and kiss the top of his head. He gets a slightly panicked look, but has learned to adjust to it and even purrs. Cookie, on the other hand, can be held for about 30 seconds in any position before a full fledged fear and flight set in. I shouldn’t do it to Blackie, but I guess I’m still a little girl at heart.

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

Pip Squeak and Wilfred Perform

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Pam’s Pictoram Photo Post: For those of you who follow on Kim’s Facebook page, you know I have a deep affection for the once hugely popular British comic strip Pip, Squeak and Wilfred. Admittedly, my fascination with the strip mystifies even Kim a bit, although he acknowledges the merit of the drawings. While best experienced today in the wonderful, robust Annuals, it was a daily strip that ran in Britain’s Daily Mirror from 1919-1956. It was the brain child of Bertram Lamb who took the persona of Uncle Dick and illustrated by A.B. Payne. It follows a family of (interspecies) animals – mom, Squeak, a penguin; dad, Pip, a dog; and Wilfred, their child, a rabbit.

The Annuals were issued from 1923-1939. In addition, Wilfred had his own, aimed at the younger set, for many years as well. Much to my extreme pleasure, the Annuals are chocked full of strips and are light on filler, puzzles and the like. They have limited color and a few full color illustrations in each.  I own a short run of them. They are a bit pricey but can be found for somewhat less if one shops around and is patient. I am sure the Annuals will be a future post of their own some day.

I am still filling in the story of the doings of the Mirror however. There is evidence that models of the family home was created and photographed for postcards, which can be easily found. In addition, there seem to be performances, as photographed here. These appear to have been wildly popular. There are two very short films, live action, on Youtube that I have included here. I believe I have seen at least one more. Both of these show the family home, Mirror Grange, but the second has the live animals as well:

 

The merchandising was wonderful and sells very high today. (Hopefully a future post will show me owning all three stuffed animals!) The popularity cannot be underestimated – even war medals were named after the characters and the strip. Wilfred had a popular fan club of his own – the Mirror would send birthday cards to you on behalf of the animals.

While the strip’s stories are very simple, they are quirky and the characters drawn expressively. I include a sample page below – hopefully to beguile you with!

Pip Squeak Annual Page

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.

Fooled Again!

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Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Okay, time to admit it, if you are going to be a collector and take some chances, once in a while you are going to get burned – those are the rules of the game. A card that is suppose to be old is a reproduction, a stuffed toy is in poorer condition than advertised – it happens. In the process of doing a large buy on a postcard site, early one morning (think pre-coffee) I added this one into the batch, believing perhaps that the figure in the middle was actually wearing a Felix costume. Actually, don’t know what I was thinking. Once it arrived, it took a little while for me to even find the darn Felix!

Still, now that it is here, it is a strange and unusual card if not necessarily one I would have purchased otherwise. Roughly tinted, this shows an unusual line-up of men. There’s something decidedly gruesome about this group – um, not really jolly somehow. Perhaps it is the sloppy coloration. I don’t know – and the spirit of Felix, pasted to the window behind them, hovering over them.