The Pet Museum

it's vintage photo time again: you weren't expecting this

2009-10-14T20:24:00.001-07:00

Okay. This is not a pet per se. Nobody should have a pet elephant (and that includes the circuses: just Google "elephant circus" if you want to get bummed in a hurry).

(Oh and don't encourage elephant exploitation in Thailand. Google that, too.)

But I mean, come on, somebody a way back got up close to an elephant and took its picture.
You actually think I could pass that up?

(For a look at people who love and heal sad elephants, try going to Elephant Nature Park.)

kitten on the (electronic) keys

2009-10-13T07:39:00.000-07:00

Why do synthesizer enthusiasts gravitate towards cats as pets/sidekicks? It's been discussed, with varying results.

This is another one of those niches that took me by surprise - every time I think I surely must have played out (unintentional Keyboard Cat reference) every known avenue of pet culture, something pops out of left field. But looking in from outside, the start of the cat/synth synthesis (ahem) was surely the Octave/Plateau Cat Synthesizer, manufactured from 1977-81. This fortunate naming made for some jolly ads. Then there's the well known attributes cats have of being curious, light on their feet and nimble with their paws. How often does your puppy scramble up to the keyboard? Not so much? You can enjoy a blog all about cats and electronic keyboards at CatSynth.

One discussion thread dropped the name "Wendy Carlos," the Moog music pioneer who scored the movies Tron and A Clockwork Orange. Why? Well, probably that Siamese draped blissfully over her shoulder on her homepage for starters, though she includes much, much more on her cats and other pets.

presidential dogs

2009-10-10T08:32:00.000-07:00

Did you hear President Obama retelling how his young daughters took the news of his Nobel? "You got the Nobel Prize, and it's Bo's birthday, and we get a three day weekend." Something like that. I had to smile at the sheer excellence. Of course the dog's birthday is right up there.

And Bo is right at the end of a fine short slideshow of Presidential dogs past and present you'll find at NPR.org. Dogs we know well - FDR's Fala, the Clintons' Buddy, George H. W. Bush's Millie - are in there.

So are a few others I did not know as well. Say what you will about Herbert Hoover, his King Tut was clearly a good friend to him. I had forgotten Gerald Ford's Liberty, who has one of the cutest faces in the lineup. And I never knew Nixon had a Yorkie named Pasha. Have a look at the show.

an unlucky kitten finds a good person

2009-10-09T07:08:00.000-07:00

I've been reading Robert Roberts' A Ragged Schooling: Growing Up in the Classic Slum (New edition: Mandolin, 1997). This autobiography of a childhood spent in the poorest districts of Salford, UK during the Edwardian era is gripping, sympathetic, and by some alchemy of Roberts' character and talent, only sad in the shadows. But even many of his grimmer childhood observations and experiences are warmed by the care of the truly great figure at the center of the tale: his mother. A shopkeeper, well read, mother to 7 children (and frankly as well to a charming, alcoholic husband), she calmly kept to her own home. Yet every so often the ugliness beyond would intrude, and she would always have an answer.

One day she even had an answer for a kitten in a bad way, brought to young Robert by a schoolfellow (you'll find this story on p. 83):

Once, in a narrow entry that ran behind the street, Iggy wandered up to me with a black, snake-like object that jerked stiffly on his hands, then lay still, staring. I stepped back, afraid.
"It's a kitten," he said. "Some rotten pig's rolled it in hot pitch off the road! Now it's gone hard."
"What - What can we do?" I asked.
"Your old lady," he said, "she's the one." (Ignatius, for some reason, held my mother in awe and always assumed I feared her too.) He came with me to the entry end and I took it in at the back door. Face set, Mother examined the dreadful offering. "Put it down," she ordered at last. Then, going into the shop, she scooped up a lump of lard and dropped it into the frying pan. Soon we were kneading warm oil into the kitten's fur, after which she washed it with soap and water.
"How's the moggie?" Ignatius asked later.
"Like a lump of wool now!" I told him. "We're going to keep it," which seemed to please him.

vintage photo

2009-10-07T06:45:00.000-07:00

Another Ampersand find, this one with nothing on the back to clue me in.

Clearly, someone was proud of their cat and how fine he or she looked on their cement bench in the back yard. (I do believe you can get precast benches in this pattern today.)

dog as officiant: sagdid

2009-10-05T06:59:00.000-07:00

In the Zoroastrian religion, a dog steps up to perform an important part of a deceased person's leavetaking of the world. The ritual is called sagdid, meaning "dog-sight," and the dog must be what is called "four-eyed," meaning it has two eye-like spots above its own eyes.

This ritual meant a great deal in the days before doctors could without doubt confirm a death. If the dog looked at the person carefully, they were still alive; if the dog would not look, the person was indeed gone. This was repeated several times, so the dog had more than one opportunity to check, and there was also one final sagdid as the deceased was placed in their tower of silence - the Zoroastrian method of sky burial.

The page I'm referencing for this mentions that the dog is brought in at a particular point in prayers, Yasna 31.4, which if I've made the correct conclusion is this verse:

4. If Asha is to be invoked and Mazda and the other Ahuras and Ashi and Armaiti, do thou seek for me, O Vohu Manah, the mighty Dominion, by the increase of which we might vanquish the Lie.

Just because I always like to give the fullest picture possible, though I do know I must be missing a number of fine points.

The section on sagdid here. Yasnas 28-34 in English here.

let's go to the pet circus

2009-10-03T09:12:00.000-07:00

Up up up the fuzzy pole the kitty goes to the pie-sized platform many feet in the air. The pole is being held steady by a strong man, but is that cat really going to jump that far down? Yes, he is. But he will land safely in a fat green pillow held by a red-headed clown. Meanwhile the four white matching Spitz dogs are getting their pretty collars on, ready to dance, and a couple other kitties are persuaded to come out of the flower-bedecked bicycle baskets after their refreshing clown-powered ride.

The clown is Denis Ignatov, and he and his furry friends have created "Performing Dogs and House Cats," an all-pet circus in which feats ranging from daring to sweet (you'll love the "Cat Wedding") are performed for your delight and even education. Ignatov has also added his own acrobatic piece in "Cube." Overview of the performances here. But be sure and see the video clips on the cat page, the dog page, and the mini-"pet show."

Meanwhile, did you even know those cat-lovin' engineer guys had their own candidate for the past election? They proposed their cat Ginger, and I have to say they made a compelling case for her. (The military reenactment alone was worth the time: "Don't buzz the tower! You'll get in trouble!")

momoyo torimitsu: cute as discomfort

2009-10-01T20:53:00.000-07:00

Big bright vinyl bunnies, too big for their space, crushed down over you. They ought to be cute and funny. Are they? There's so many of them. They aren't fitting comfortably. Something isn't right here.

Exactly, according to Japanese artist Momoyo Torimitsu. The bunny installation was called Somehow I don't feel comfortable, and it was designed specially to not fit its Parisian gallery space. Torimitsu was illustrating the effect of cuteness used in excess in order to buffer or gloss over issues such as individuality or empowerment.

The gallery show page here. And for an adventure, Momoyo Torimitsu's website here (click on the first page and then try clicking "Projects."

update on that four-legged raving loony candidate

2009-10-01T07:09:00.000-07:00

Apparently Lord Sutch's spaniel was named Splodge, not Bob. Gathered from Sutch's obit in the LA Times.

pet life in a raving loony party

2009-09-30T06:50:00.000-07:00

A British political party that has stood in elections since its inception in the 80's, the Official Monster Raving Loony Party actively embraces the absurd as a means of pointing out the frequent foolishness in UK government. You will find there pretty much what you would expect from an entity founded by a 70s glam-shock musician called "Screaming Lord Sutch," except that some of their absurdities are a bit more on the ball than you expected.

I can't believe I'm trying to explain all this in one post.

Anyway, I had heard that the OMRLP had put up a Parliamentary candidate in 1982 who was a bit of a stretch, even for them: he was a springer spaniel named "Bob." And while I can't find anything more on Bob, I did refresh myself with some of the Party's many, varied and famed Manifesto Proposals:

Animal fashions
It is proposed that:Pets, especially cats and dogs, may not be dressed in miniature human clothing for the purpose of human amusement, unless the animal in question can equip the clothing himself/herself. Punishable by dressing the owner of the animal in miniature human clothing.

Guard Dogs
Guard Dogs shall no longer be permitted.(they're so vicious)
It is proposed that they will be replaced with Guard Tortoises,
called Shelly.

K9 IQ
The true intelligence of dogs will be fully recognised and appreciated. (when did you last see a dog step in a human poo?)

These are mixed in with things like:
Politicians are Shocked
Politicians to be fitted with electric shock collars, the type used to stop dogs barking, and shocked every time they lie.

Delightful.
Homepage of the Official Monster Raving Loony Party here.

more medieval cats on pages

2009-09-28T07:07:00.000-07:00

As you probably have figured out by now I do love a sprightly manuscript detail. Turns out the Getty Museum has one I've missed. From England, about mid 13th century, a couple of white cats go after brown mice, with mixed results - or perhaps it's a comic book-style telling of a cat's failed bid to hang on to mousie, as it shows up immediately underneath in its own vignette looking perky and even triumphant. I'm particularly impressed with the skilled elegance with which the cats are drawn, not a line wasted.

Of course copyright forbids my posting the image, but I'll send you right to it here.

dog on the weekend

2009-09-27T09:03:00.000-07:00

This was Cash dog yesterday, being all happy because he got to go bird hunting with his dad and John-of-Robin-and-Finchy. He's 12 and this is what he lives for.

For it is the weekend and the perfect time to find a happy spot.

a folktale from india: the cat who became a queen

2009-09-26T16:13:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time a Kashmir monarch bewailed that though he had many wives, he had no son. Faced with banishment if they didn't come up with one, the royal ladies beseeched the god Shiva, but as the gods tend to do, he answered their prayers a bit left-handedly...with a litter of kittens.

Told that he had a lovely daughter (one of the kittens) and that soothsayers recommended he not see her till her marriage, the ruler managed to be content. And then came the day the kitten-now-grown was to be married to a young prince.

What happened then? Well, thanks to the kindness of the prince and his mother, and the intervention of Shiva's wife Parvati, the cat's tears of frustration and sadness were wiped away. Want to know how? Best read the story!

1844: a lost lady holds a little dog

2009-09-25T06:34:00.000-07:00

Thanks as usual, Wikimedia Commons

In 1844, Carl Timoleon von Neff (Baltic Germany, 1804/5? - 1876) painted this portrait of a striking young woman holding her little dog. All I can find of her is the title: Lady Barrett of Belhus. While I didn't find many of the answers I sought, I did find some other curious things that led me to reflect on struggle, position and transience. I'll tell you why.

Carl Timoleon von Neff was a court painter to Tsar Nicholas I of Russia, a position he achieved by a great deal of hard work and applied likeability, for he was the illegitimate child of a French governess. He is identified as being Baltic German, from Estonia, born at the "Pyssi manor," and died in St. Petersburg. He did well enough to own a manor house at Muuga in Estonia (a Flickr group of the house here).

Last but not least, he traveled to Britain at one point, for the young lady in the painting belonged to a family of minor nobility in Thurrock, county of Essex. The Belhus family's country house was demolished in 1957, and the family's history was mildly checkered. It is possible that this young woman is either the wife or the daughter (I think the latter) of Sir Thomas Barrett-Lennard, 1st Baronet.

Good links: von Neff, his art, and his manor house; the lost house of Belhus.

it's vintage photo time again

2009-09-23T19:35:00.001-07:00

"B. Ames 1952" says the reverse of this photo.

This is so far my personal favorite of the Portland photo finds. Seriously, if I'd been alive in '52 and about this old, this is pretty much what I'd have looked like (right down to the socks). Look! She's got her best game face on, but it's agony having her picture taken and her hands just can't help but wring on each other. Lucky for her, there's a dark curly spaniel type by her side to lend support.

They even have the same kind of hair. I love them, whoever they are.

"cats. some people like them and some do not."

2009-09-22T21:11:00.000-07:00

Hold the presses! The Egyptians loved cats. Cats were very badly treated in the Middle Ages. Short haired mixed breed cats make up most of the domestic cat population. And - wait for it - this guy in Seattle invented this post, with some catnip and covered in carpet, and cats can claw it.

Well, I guess it was news in April 1946.

Seriously, this article I have found online from LIFE Magazine (April 22, 1946: v 20 no. 16) contains some fresh info I haven't seen before. Author Roger Butterfield includes a sizable shot of Timmie, a black and white cat that was bosom buddies with President Coolidge's canary Caruso. I learned that a cat helped build the Grand Coulee Dam by carrying a string tied to its tail through a drain pipe, which ultimately meant a cable got threaded. A half-Persian cat named Mr. Hafiz-Ali used to purr on the air daily at 8 AM on station WJZ. (Oh! What a great idea for NPR.) One of the oldest proverbs on record is the Sanskrit saying, "The white cat eats the gray mice of the twilight." And a Chicago banker named Rockwell Sayre hated cats so much that he paid 10 cents for every dead cat brought to his house. (Hiss.)

Oh, and the ads are included, so I learned 4 reasons why Fleischmann's makes the best martini.

It's a blast from the past! Want to see it?

i would like to turn your attentions to the guinea pig

2009-09-21T13:14:00.000-07:00

I have a good new link under "Useful Friends" -- http://www.guineapigruninfo.com/, where you may learn about the healthiest housing choices for the little furry wheet-wheet-wheeter in your home. And while I was idly noodling about looking for some tidbit to offer you in guinea pig art, I came across this poem from a slim volume privately published in 1898. You may smile tenderly (and sympathetically) that 111 years ago a cavy was so loved:

On the death of a favorite guinea-pig.

Now swoll'n with crying are our Sarah's eyes,
Sad Jane refuses from her chair to rise;
Mamma and Edith groan without relief;
William, Pip, Gracie, all are plunged in grief.
For lovely Wiggy from this life hath flown;
His beauteous form upon the ground is strown.
No more shall sparkle now his jet-black eye ;
No more his voice shall grunt sweet melody;
Parsley no more nor apples shall delight,
By Arthur's liberal hand placed in his sight ;
Never again with ardour shall he burn
Fell rats to conquer, ne'er to us return.

-- From Intervalla: Verses Greek, Latin and English by The Rt. Hon. George Denman, M.A. (Cambridge: Printed at the University Press, 1898)

the spy's dog

2009-09-20T11:24:00.000-07:00

There was a brief period during WWII when a great deal hinged on one woman's grief for her dog. The woman was Nathalie Sergueiew, a Russian whose family had fled to France in 1917 to escape the Revolution. In 1939 she began working for German intelligence - and very shortly thereafter became a double-agent for the Allies, codenamed "Treasure" by the British.

She had had to leave her dog Frisson behind in her Madrid posting, with a boyfriend's promise that Frisson would be smuggled into Britain. But the boyfriend failed, and Frisson died (I haven't found out how). In misplaced revenge, "Treasure" threatened to slip a code into her transmissions to Germany that would tell them she was being held against her wishes. If she had, more likely than not the Allies' entire double-cross system would have come crashing down.

Luckily, she didn't. She went back to France, and eventually wrote a tell-all memoir that was published in 1968. You can read more about "Treasure" here, and learn more of the spying details here - no mention of Frisson, but there is a photo of Sergueiew.

vintage photo time

2009-09-17T20:34:00.001-07:00

Another of my bulk-bin-at-Ampersand finds.

Written on the back of this one:

"Trixy the dog"

once there was a pig named cupid

2009-09-16T07:01:00.000-07:00

Cupid the pig lived in Plymouth, UK, in the mid-18th century. He was the beloved friend and companion of a woman named Emma Gilbert, and is said to have shared her meals at her table, even accompanying her to London. As it happened, Emma was the Countess of Mount Edgecumbe, married to the 1st Earl of Mount Edgecumbe, and so in a position to treat her dearest friend with certain honors.

When Cupid died in about 1768, the Countess buried him near the family estate's folly, and had an obelisk built in his memory. The obelisk was later moved, and no pig found (or the golden casket in which he was supposedly interred). Or the pig may possibly be buried in a local area called Fern Dell. What I think really matters was the quality of the affection passing between these two. Don't forget this was during an age of Western philosophy when the idea of animals as feeling, suffering beings was becoming widely acknowledged.

Here's a news article from the Plymouth paper including not just Emma's Cupid, but a few more other family pet lovers.

And here's a post on Cupid from a fine blog on Plymouth local history.

a couple more from the fair

2009-09-15T17:49:00.001-07:00

(All photos courtesy & copyright John McDermott)

Baby bunny mini-lop in the petting zoo.

(Don't worry, it was a very well controlled zoo.)

The cat that won the biggest ribbon at the 4H cat show!
He loved being judged and having us all look at him and say "Ah kitty."

from the puyallup fair

2009-09-14T20:23:00.001-07:00

Yes, I spent a happy sunny Sunday with Tara & John (of Robin & Finchy fame) checking out the critters at the 2009 Puyallup Fair. What you see here are the usual cellcam photos (= terrible quality. I know). But T&J were so kind as to give me a few of theirs, which are professional quality, so stay tuned for some tomorrow.

Meanwhile, here's a 4-H kitty sleeping after a hard morning's getting judged.

All three of us loved this orange fellow. Just because.

Each cat's cage sported themed decor of some kind. This is a 4-H tradition/rule, it seems. I wish I had gotten a photo of the cat bed made up to look like a golden beehive.

There is such a thing as a Bantam Duck (this kind is a Call Duck, I gather). I didn't know that. They would fit comfortably in your open hand, and have cute stubby round beaks. I chose this one because all the others were posed so porcelain-smooth they didn't look real.

A miniature horse, as brushed and shiny and softly buffed as you might wish, having a nap.

This bunny might look huge from this angle, but he's a Mini-Lop. And much more beautiful a fawn color than my cellphone cam could render.

elizabeth on a late summer evening

2009-09-13T08:54:00.001-07:00

They are alike, prim scholar and perfervid lover:
When comes the season of decay, they both decide
Upon sweet, husky cats to be the household pride;
Cats choose, like them, to sit, and like them, shudder.

(from Charles Baudelaire, The Cat)

cat gummies, cat goma

2009-09-12T16:15:00.000-07:00

Katjes of Germany and their candy is not new to me exactly, but it's been many years since I ran into a bag. And to date I hadn't run into bags of their Katjes-Kinder, Katzen-Pfotchen, and Ohren (Kittens, Cats Paws, and Ears) all at once. Turns out the entire company's genesis in 1950 began with a 1910 recipe from Sicily for making licorice cats. But that's on their History page.
What you probably want to see is the candy. So have you ever had the hard, herbal Katzen Ohren? I haven't yet, but I tend to like my licorice more plain like the Katjes-Kinder. (Where are the Paws on the company website?) I may skip the Salty Herrings, but many folks enjoy a good salty licorice. The entire Katjes website is here.

I also happened for the first time upon Himalayan cat Goma's fantabulous blog today. Which included a link to the Lolcat translator. Oh, temptation.

18th-c. rabbit hoax!

2009-09-11T19:39:00.000-07:00

Today's post was inspired by a note I received from A Few Good Cats, who drew my attention to this most odd and fascinating bit of history. Warning: rabbits misused. Dear me.

In 1726, a woman living in Surrey, England "gave birth" to animal parts. Her name was Mary Toft, and she would become (in)famous for her elaborate hoax in birthing rabbits. The situation began with her delivering various legs and guts of cats and rabbits, and the backbone of an eel; this was brought to the attention of a local male midwife, John Howard. Howard had 30 years of experience, but somehow bought into the situation. Admittedly, Mary Toft did manage to deliver some bits in his presence, so that might excuse him. She began to specialize, if you will, in producing rabbits in varying stages of completeness.

Members of the British Royal Family's court, including a Swiss surgeon named Nathaniel St. Andre, heard of the phenomenon and did their best to verify. They bought into it too. Mary Toft was eventually moved to London, evaluated by a number of other medical experts, and unmasked at last as a fraud by an independent investigation. There was a deal of severe embarrassment for the medical community as a result.

If you're like me you've already asked by now, How in the world did she manage that? Ugh. Let's just say she was determined to do it - for details, I'll send you to the Wikipedia on her Confession.

There's a rich trove of archived period literature on the Mary Toft hoax. Many can be found at the Wellcome Library (a treasured find in itself). Wow.

And what happened to her? She was busted, and after a while sent home to Surrey. That's all.