happy international box day

Apparently it is International Box Day.

I thought that was every day? What do I know.

Anyhow, here is a classic from the Elizabeth archives.
Happy Thursday!

cats: a medical application (?)

The King's County Proceedings cites a case in which a feline was felt by feelin' when nothing else could be felt: Lewis Webb, of Georgia, has had both motor and sensor paralysis of legs and feet for many years. The members are dead to all feeling, with the exception of that of the contact of feline. He can drive a knife into his foot without sensation (What the - ? Curator), but the slightest touch of a cat, even if he (Mr. Webb, not the cat) has stockings on, and is blindfolded, is instantly felt. The contact sends prickly sensations all through the foot. Here is comfort for old maids, and an excuse for their pets: there are chords, in the human foot, at least, which only a cat can touch.

* * *
From Michigan Medical News (John Jolliffe Mulheron, ed.), vol. 1 (Detroit, Michigan: J.J. Mulheron, 1878), p. 262. Pretty nice wry sense of humor at play here, but I wonder if similar cases have ever been recorded.

ice cream cart for dogs!

photo kindly sent by arrfscarf.com

It's an idea whose time has come!

I was sent a press release by the owner of Lick Lick ice cream and ArrfScarf treats, Andreana Droz. (I'm pretty sure that's her in the photo.) The ArrfScarf.com website seems to be under development, but let me offer a few choice morsels from the release:
* * *

Chicago, June 20, 2011…Chicago’s first Doggie Ice Cream Cart made its debut Memorial Day weekend. The cute little red umbrella cart with the Lick Lick name is owned by young designer-turned entrepreneur Andreana Droz. She has channeled her creativity and love of dogs into a business traditionally dominated by men to become one of the few female cart vendors in the United States. . .

Since its launch, Lick Lick is fast becoming a hot brand. While Droz created the flavors herself, she has a local artisan make the doggie ice cream in small batches using seasonal ingredients. Yogurt and coconut and almond milk based, it contains NO preservatives. There’s tuna cranberry - carrot carob - peanut butter bacon - green apple cheddar – and strawberry almond mint. Lick Lick could be a fun novelty dessert at a summer barbeque.

ARRFSCARF’s treats are like nothing you’ll find on the market today. Made in small batches with organic ingredients and no preservatives, these low salt, low sugar confections could be on the cover of Bon Appétit Magazine. “Think of us as the Tiffany’s of treats,” says Droz. “They are not your traditional bone-shaped dog biscuits by any means.” Choose from SUKI Treats – soft and chewy made from fresh ground peanut butter and vegan carob chips; Maru Macaroons - wheat free, little jeweled clusters of bacon, coconut, and cranberries; and Snazzlers by Snorkie - delicate flaky crisps of cheddar, parmesan, and fresh blueberries. One customer stocks up on SUKI Treats every month and she doesn’t even own a dog (emphasis mine - Curator).

* * *

You can find ARRFSCARF on Facebook/arrfscarf and Twitter @arrfscarf. What a fun idea!

And meanwhile. . . I was quite hammered by the demands of work this week, so I had to go do that when I'd rather have been posting and commenting with you all. Pretty punishing. But I did have time to realize I really like these T-shirts: ArmTheAnimals.com. I want this one.

the hound puck

thanks again wikimedia [public domain]

Therese Schwartze (1851 - 1918), a Dutch painter, was known not only for her technical skill but for a fine business sense that gained her a good career among Netherlandish high society. (There's a YouTube video of her work here! That's a find.) However, I'm hard put to find out what exact level of high society contained this "Young Italian Woman with the Dog Puck." And yes, that is Puck's very own name you see inscribed up there in the upper right hand corner. Isn't that funny we don't know the woman's name, but there's the dog identified for posterity? I was attracted to the dry elegance of this work - particularly the sculptural white sleeves that look a bit like the dog's angular form.

a herford kitten for a lazy sunday

material in public domain
This quiet morning I feel like sharing this sweet, silly illustration and poem by good old Oliver Herford (1863 - 1935), whose Rubaiyat of a Persian Kitten I've shown you before. I didn't even know about this poem till I stumbled upon it in Cat stories: retold from St. Nicholas, edited by Marion Hamilton Carter (The Century Co., 1904), p. 20.

vintage photo time

thanks again ampersand's bulk bin!

"Summer of 1943" says the note on the back of this snap. Summer is late coming here in the Pacific Northwest this year, so I like looking at this photo and stealing a little warmth from it.

little claws on a kid glove

wikimedia commons [public domain]

This oil portrait by Johann Zoffany (whom we've seen before) presents us with young Sophia Dumergue holding a cat. The year is around 1780, and she's about 12; she lived from 1768 to 1831. Zoffany's been clever in letting her keep one long kid glove on in case kitty decides to get playful. Perhaps she already had scratches on that arm, who knows? I gather that her father knew Lord Byron, and that she grew up to be a friend of Sir Walter Scott.

1902: a pug breeder's ad

material in public domain

I came across this on page 250 of the 1902 edition of Everything about Dogs (Alvin George Eberhart, editor; The Eberhart Kennels, Camp Dennison, Ohio) and it just made me laugh. Especially that bit in the small print. Everything about Dogs was a sizable vanity/publicity publication for Alvin George Eberhart and his Eberhart Kennels, though he also featured a great plenty of other breeders' ads (along with the exhortation to tell them you saw it in his book). He saw to it that his book lived up to the title, including extensive info on the health, housing, and happiness of dogs: as he proclaimed on the title page,

Taking proper care of a dog from its birth—through life—
till it dies from old age—and is buried in the yard.

I did not make that up.

the peasant and the angora part II

And continuing with Lisi Cecilia Cipriani's memories of a perfectly harmless kitty, a simple peasant lady, and one very naughty brother:

* * *
"Moreover," Alick continued, "this creature is brother to the cat of the Queen, and you must not speak of it, or address it, as plain 'cat,' but always as Signor Gatto. You must never pass in front of it because it is an animal of royal blood, and if you ever do, they will throw you in jail at once."

Our intercourse with the servants was so restricted that they may have looked upon us with a certain awe—distance is known to lend enchantment. This may account for the undue weight my brother's words had with the credulous old woman. The respect she afterward showed the cat was a source of great amusement to us children, and none of us undeceived her. Perhaps her fellowservants were just as amused as we were and strengthened the poor old woman in her belief. It is not difficult to imagine that the men in the servants' hall thoroughly enjoyed it when she asked them whether the Signorino was right when he said that the cat was a cross between a bantam chicken and a poodle. Tuscans have a sense of humor.

One day my father asked to have dinner served earlier than usual. The cook, who sought to obey, sent Teresa to the vegetable garden to get some fresh lettuce. A little iron gate led from the garden proper, upon which the kitchen opened, to this vegetable garden, and as Teresa was coming back with a basket full of lettuce, she found that "Signor Gatto" had established himself on the threshold of the gate. She was going to brush by in a hurry, when she noticed that my father was walking up and down in the garden smoking. Then she remembered my brother's recommendations, and tried to carry them out to the letter. "Signor Gatto," she said apologetically, "excuse me. I had not seen you. Will you please let me through?"

The cat on hearing her voice filled the whole space of the little gateway, arching its back, putting up its tail and purring. Teresa most politely repeated: "Signor Gatto, will you please let me through?"

The cat continued to balance itself on the threshold, and the woman in a more imploring tone: "Signor Gatto, will you please let me through?"

By this time her voice had attracted my father's attention, and he stopped to watch her. This probably embarrassed her, and she grew excited. She pleaded more vehemently: "Signor Gatto, will you please let me through? The Signor Generale wants dinner earlier, and I am in a hurry. Signor Gatto, I beseech you! I do not want to offend you, but I really must get through. The cook will scold. Signor Gatto, I implore you! Will you please step aside. Dinner is going to be very late, and the Signor Generate will scold."

My father, who evidently could not understand the situation, and who, moreover, was absolutely lacking in a sense of humor, spoke to her with sharp impatience: "What on earth are you talking about?"

Then she was terrorized. She thought that my father had noticed how she was going to brush by the cat, and that this might land her in jail. So she began in a wailing tone: "Signor Generate, I have always said 'Signor Gatto,' and I have never stepped in front of the cat—I beg your pardon, I mean the Signor Gatto. I am a poor woman. I mean no harm. Surely you won't let me go to jail."

My father succeeded in calming Teresa's fears, and making her give a connected explanation, which proved my brother flagrantly guilty, not only of having talked with her, when it was distinctly understood that we should hold no conversation with any of the servants, but also of having invented such a colossal whopper. (The English dictionary says that this word is colloquial, but it expresses exactly what I mean.)

-- from A Tuscan Childhood, ibid., pp. 177-182

the peasant and the angora

In 1907, a woman looked back on her childhood in Tuscany, recalling how unusual her cat was in that place and time:

* * *

Teresa, an old woman who helped in the kitchen, and a pet cat, once inspired Alick to a piece of mischief that later he heartily regretted. The old woman was a poor, ignorant, superstitious creature. The cat was a beautiful white Angora, with very long hair, a big fluffy tail, and forget-me-not blue eyes. It had been given us by Countess R , a great friend of ours. Count R was at the time on the special staff of King Humbert, and at royal request, he had brought a brother of our kitten to Rome for Queen Margaret. Our cat was, therefore, really a well-connected cat.

Alick was standing in the garden when the old woman passed, and stopped to admire the cat. She said in an admiring tone: "Signorino, what a beautiful cat. Sant Antonio bless it!"

The blessing of Sant Antonio was necessary, for the Tuscans never admire an animal without calling his blessings upon it, nor do they ever admire a child without calling upon it the blessings of the Lord. We had been well drilled in this ourselves. When in our walks we stopped at the peasant houses the peasants usually showed us their oxen, and then we were expected to say: "Sant Antonio bless them!" And when we saw a baby we were also expected to say: "God bless it!" This in order to keep off the evil eye. It was I who made the never-forgotten break of looking at a baby, and sweetly saying: "Sant Antonio bless it," which, "the children" claimed, mortally offended the peasant.

Alick should not have spoken with the old woman at all, much less should he have indulged in the opportunity of imposing upon her superstitious credulity. But he disregarded rules and answered: "It is n't a real cat. We only call it so because so rare an animal does not have a name of its own."

"Why, Signorino, what is it?"

"It is a cross between a white bantam chicken and a poodle."

The woman looked in amazement. Angora cats were unknown in the vicinity, and the blue eyes of ours had caused a good deal of comment. Besides, the cat was an exceptionally intelligent creature; it had learned to jump through hoops, stand upright, and in fact, perform a lot of tricks which popular tradition states cats can never learn, so, to a certain extent, the ground was prepared for my brother's statements.

* * *
Alick was the author's brother, and he is about to tell poor Teresa the cat is even more unusual than she thought - I'll continue this story tomorrow!

This is from Lisi Cecilia Cipriani, A Tuscan Childhood (The Century Company, 1907), pp. 173-174.

dogs beautifully drawn

image copyright and by kindest permission of the artist

Marcus Gannuscio is an artist with deep respect for art crafted to a classic standard. Recently after a visit to his blog I wrote him a note saying what a rare pleasure it was to find Puvis De Chavannes, Paul Klee, and a video on micropiglets in one place - and well woven, too. Does the piglet reference surprise you? It won't after you have the chance to share in Marcus' consideration of the animal in us all:

Animals have become a renewed interest for me. Growing up I did some of my initial life drawing practice at the San Diego Zoo. This is before I even started learning to draw the human figure. However, through college the focus became more the human figure. Now, since I live with two dogs, and I am taking my work in a new direction I am refocusing on animals again. It's not just the variety of species and behaviors that interests me, but how people identify with animals. It's really interesting, sometimes it's on a very surface level, and other times it's more shamanic. I can't help but think about how we relate to animals, I see it in my own relationships with my dogs and over-hear other onlookers at the zoo talking about the animal in the enclosure. We want to identify with animals, partly because we are animals ourselves, and forgot. We used to be more a part of the animal kingdom, as cave paintings show, but now the best it gets for most people is a trip to the zoo, and if we are lucky a safari. Animals exhibit a lot of strength.

See more of Marcus' fine work at his perfectly titled website, reallygoodpaintings.com.

vintage photo time

where did i find this?

It's Adopt a Shelter Cat Month! I just figured that out. And after days - feels like an eternity - of the worst spring/summer weather around here in years, the sun is shining. That won't last today, but this photo taken in May 1973 captures a bit of radiance and one super-lush gray and white cat forever.