At this busy time of year, I’ll share a short post about a card I purchased a while ago. Here is a real photo postcard that features a pair of images taken by “Etta,” who I presume was a young woman, perhaps a teenager. I’ve written about these kinds of cards in earlier posts, but let me review some history quickly. Eastman Kodak began selling pre-printed postcard stock with photo-sensitive fronts in 1902; they offered a camera designed for amateur postcard photography in 1903. Other companies soon followed; some began to offer accessories such as sets of black paper masking frames that allowed printed photos to have different shapes and borders. This one is interesting because Etta printed two round images on the front, masking them but overlapping them by accident. I’ve been unable to identify the recipient, the sender, or the writer — but this card is evidence of a young woman taking up amateur photography. The photo of the cat is particularly nice. I like that the horse is her “pet,” too. This suggests that, at a time when horses still were crucial sources of motive power, some crossed the line from worker to beloved individual — and that girls were riders, too!
Monthly Archives: August 2016
Meet Stump. I adopted him almost three years ago, along with his colleague Teddy. There are some other photos of Stump (and of Ted) in the My Pets section of this blog. Stump had a hard life — an unknown life — prior to his rescue as a middle-aged dog. He was almost bald from flea allergies when he was found as a stray, and he had a big tumor on his hip. When I adopted him, I thought that if the tumor proved to be malignant, at least he’d had a few months of the proverbial Life of Riley, which is now all the animals in my household live! But that’s another story….
Stump and Teddy walk with me twice a day. This is what a typical day looks like from my end of the leashes. Neither seems to care that he is attached to a girlie pink leash once used for my much-loved dog Patti.
But Stump is enjoying his walks less these days. He has arthritis in his lower back and hips, along with scar tissue from an ACL repair, and he can’t take pain-relief tablets because they give him a very upset tummy. I’m trying some other options, but in the meantime, walks have gotten slower and slower, and Ted gets very annoyed because he is likes to trot along at a good pace — unless he needs to leave some pee-mail, which can lead to sudden, dramatic halts. In any case, Ted and I haven’t been getting enough exercise in our designated walk time — what to do?
So a while ago, I saw a little old dog in stroller in New York City, and I was inspired to some online shopping. This arrived in the mail a couple of weeks ago.
Success! Stump sat in the stroller and, as we negotiated curb cuts and bumpy sidewalks, he got sleepy in the morning sun.
When did dog strollers become part of the expanding equipage of enlightened pet ownership, you ask? The answer seem to be in the year 2003, when a company called Dutch Dog Design introduced the “Doggyride” line of products. According to their website, the company began with dog trailers for bicyclists, which makes sense given the Dutch commitment to bicycle transportation. They branched out to strollers when they realized the number of dog owners whose pets were too old or lame to go for walks. Here is a brochure for the company’s dog travel products; they now also make luxury orthopedic dog beds and other accessories. The Doggyride™ stroller looks like the bike trailer that begat it; there is a handle on the back and a single wheel in the front.
Stump’s stroller is a cheap model, and it looks like a baby carriage for a doll except that it has a screen attached to the rain hood that can be zipped to prevent escapes (or insects, I guess). (It also has two cup holders.) I chose the blue plaid model because it did indeed remind me of my doll carriage, which was a favorite sleeping spot for Scotchie, a family cat, around 1960. Bundled up in an old baby blanket, she would allow herself to be pushed along until the ride got too bumpy.
I venture that some small dog owners improvised with baby carriages before now, but purpose-built dog strollers are part of a new genre of prosthetic material culture for pets, including the wheeled carts designed for cats and dogs unable to use their hind legs and a variety of braces and prosthetic limbs. I’ll be looking into these more for a future post, so stay tuned. And I would love to have a photo to share of your pet using one of these prostheses or mobility aids.
On this very hot Saturday (a day when all wise pets are taking naps someplace cool), allow me to introduce you to Lombard’s Musical Cats. I looked for information about this postcard on and off for months, and this pair, a mother and son team according to the poem, and their owner remained as mysterious as when I purr-chased the card. (Sorry, I couldn’t help myself….)
I can tell you something about the Auburn Post Card Manufacturing Company, the publishers of this card. The company began as the Whitten-Dennison Post Card Company in Maine, but L. G. Whitten, one of the founders, moved it to Auburn, Indiana, and renamed it in 1913. The company made cards for businesses, cities, and tourist destinations. They were also known for their “comic” postcards on subjects like courtship and holiday cards. This, however, seems to be unique in their output. It is clearly a commission from someone who felt that he could make use of the minimum 500-card order required by APCMC.
And now I think I know the identity of the man behind “Lombard’s Musical Cats.”
Harlan P. Lombard (c. 1862 – 1942) was a composer of spectacularly obscure popular songs in the 1910s and 1920s. He lived in North Eastham, Massachusetts, according to copyright records. The 1920 U.S. Census listed him as a widower and a “music composer.” His works survive in a few pieces of sheet music in public collections. “If You’re a True America, You’re All Right” was self-published in 1917; a copy can be seen in the digital catalog of the Library of Congress. The caption above the song title is “‘Harmony Harl’s’ Patriotic March,” suggesting that he was a recognized local character with a presence as a performer known as Harmony Harl.
So let’s raise a glass of iced tea to the memory of Harmony Harl, Baby, and Thomas Boy!