Sybil Bruncheon's "Tales & Tails"... Millie

Millie had started out as most urban kitties do, abandoned very early in life by a neglectful mother either too drunk or too busy with gentlemen-callers (or both!) to raise her litter properly.……Although Jacob Riis photographed her at one of the most dire times of her young life, Millie’s natural beauty shone through, and brought her enormous notoriety in all the gazettes of the day. Society matrons flocked to her neighborhood near the dank and dangerous slum known as Five Points in an attempt to “rescue” her and be seen as the “great philanthropists” that wealthy citizens found to be the most fashionable hobby.

Millie did indeed go on to a very comfortable life, but she nevertheless became an inveterate thief of people's personal property… It started out with small unimportant objects; pieces of string, a paper clip, rubber balls, coins, things left on dressing tables....You know the type! But then she began to raise the stakes… and the consequences. The police couldn't trace her crimes for years because there was no rhyme or reason to them... a rubber band on Monday would be followed by a $2000 earring on Wednesday. What she couldn’t carry off to her hide-aways, she’d simply knock off the edge of tables in an off-hand sort of way, usually when no one was looking, but sometimes right in front of them!

Finally, the authorities tracked her down...she had holed up in a seemingly abandoned paper bag….but her rustling gave her away. As they closed in, she leapt out at them in one final burst of surprise scaring the crap out of all of them. Yowling triumphantly, she escaped and was never really caught again...although there were reports for years that she could be seen lying on other people's desks, pillows, sweaters, bathmats, open romance novels, fashion magazines, dress patterns, gentlemen’s “French Calendars”... you get the idea. She could, on occasion, allow the unwary to scratch behind her ears and compliment her on her lovely whiskers as she did her bathing. Reportedly she was very well loved in spite of, and perhaps because of, her life of narcissism and mischief. …..She had private accounts at Luchow’s, Tony Pastor’s, "21", The Stork Club, The Russian Tea Room, The Rainbow Room, oh, all over..... Of course, she never paid her bills, but they kept seating her anyway…. And at the best tables!

She lived to the ripe old age of 22, although she lied about her age till the very end, claiming she was only 3 or 4. She might have lived longer, but she was killed in a motor car accident of her own making. Her friends had warned her not to drive herself, but she insisted, even though it was very difficult for her to see over the steering wheel of a Duesenberg, and a stolen one at that! She was laid to rest in a very expensive cigar thermidor of carved mahogany with her favorite lobster fork and a brass door knocker in the shape of a pineapple. Her many kitty friends delivered hours of eulogies in the alleyway behind Bergdorf’s …at the top of their lungs…. And the nice people at the Plaza Garden Court Café catered the luncheon… (Other diners were heard to complain about the yowling.)

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Sybil Bruncheon's "TALES & TAILS": Filbert and the Snowstorm..

Whenever it snowed, really snowed heavily, Filbert would find himself lost in thought... he loved going for his own strolls through the back alleyways and lanes of the town, far away from the bustle and racket, especially of trucks and cars stuck in the snow and spinning their wheels... or the children, always shrieking about some sled that wasn't being shared...or a slip on the ice skates that bruised a bottom. What did they expect going out on the ice on those shiny knife-shoes?... Idiots. Like their parents.. People are stupid. ...almost as stupid as their dogs... or..well, maybe not.

Filbert would yawn, and then pounce on something imaginary in the snow drift... laughing and prancing about with a twig in his mouth as if it was a mouse..or a finger...

And then he would settle in for some kitty thoughts...  like what he liked to eat. ...what he liked to hide under the sofa... what he liked to casually brush off the counter..and pretend that someone else had done it... what he liked to leave bite marks in for people to find a month later... and shout… it always made him laugh when they would shout… especially at the dog.

And then, as the snow began to fall softly again, he thought about his kitty friends in the neighborhood... maybe they'd like to jump in the snow later on tonight... after all the Stupids had gone to bed. Yes... he'd invite Claude Viskers, Edith Scrapps, Professor Purrvis Rubbs, Cassie Hizzlephitt, Dybik Mancksy, Felinia Furson, Pawla Paddington, Nozina Pinkle, Yowlette Skulck, oh, and the two strippers, Kitty Glitter & Poosy Jadore. They were identical twins and always good for a few laughs!!… good times!… ah, good times!

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BREAKING NEWS from the CNN news desk: WEATHER BULLETIN!!!

... horrible! HORRIBLE!!... Panic has set in all over the North East as the blizzard closes in on millions of terrified citizens from Washington DC to Boston. Grocery shelves are completely empty, and so... people, normally loving and civilized people are considering the unthinkable! They have begun to look at their own beloved four-legged friends...their pets!... Their "fur-babies"...as food! FOOD, DAMMIT!.... The ASPCA and Bide-A Wee have issued alerts to household animals, residents of zoos, and passing wildlife to be on guard! Take nothing for granted! A smiling human, even someone you consider a friend, should now be considered armed and extremely dangerous until the storm has passed! Be especially cautious around veterinarians, short-order cooks, and Facebook food-group administrators! Please! Save yourself and your litter from becoming an entrée, a tray of hors d'oeuvres, or a bedtime snack! You have been warned! An outstretched hand familiar by sight and smell, and even holding a so-called “treat” may be the hand of a stranger....AND A STRANGLER!! Run! RUN....and FETCH YOUR OWN SAFETY!!!

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Sybil Bruncheon's "TALES & TAILS"… A Mother's Day Tribute : MISS HELGINA GWATHMOOR.....

Miss Helgina Gwathmoor had never been considered a great beauty... or even a middling beauty. As a child, her devoted parents (who adored her!) had to admit they were grateful that little Geena's personality, charm, humor, and great loveliness towards every living creature she ever met more than made up for her lack of comeliness. When other little girls were picking out their favorite gingham dresses for the school picnic, Geena was busy heading the refreshment committee and making sure the cucumber and watercress sandwiches were perfection...that the pink lemonade was tart, and the vanilla ice cream had actual vanilla orchid seeds sprinkled through every luscious scoop. And she was only 8...!

At 13, as a member of the National Girl Guides, when other girls were busy flirting with boys at the rugby and lacrosse contests, she was in charge of rolling bandages and running the first aid stations on the sidelines, or cheering them on to victory! At 17, when young ladies were thinking of proms and cotillions and glorious gowns that would only be worn once for each enchanting occasion, it was their good pal Geena who'd be crawling around at their feet pinning hems and attaching flowered trims or staying up all night sewing and finishing the alterations so everyone "looked just so!" Geena was so constantly busy with so many different projects that her twenties started slipping by before anyone actually noticed that she was single. There was no time for "courting and wooing" as her adoring grandmother would say as Geena would whirl through the room chatting and laughing, her arms full of blueprints for an animal shelter, or bolts of fabric for the new curtains for the community playhouse, or two dozen teddy bears for the children's hospital ward. Geena's grandma had been a great beauty herself as a girl, but she had been wise as well, and her brief sadness for her little granddaughter faded as she saw what Geena was growing into. And all her elderly friends marveled at Geena's "unsinkability".... it was as if she was made of cork, her Aunt Delia would say. Old Mabel Cravers marveled that nothing seemed to defeat or discourage her!

And so the years slipped by.... Geena gave everything, shared everything, held hands, joined in the laughter, wiped away the tears, consoled, congratulated, and celebrated, cheered and cherished the lives and loves of all those around her. Their journeys and adventures became the threads in the most wondrous tapestry....and one that she treasured, was honored by, and humbled to have had. How lucky, she thought! How lucky I am to have had my OWN wonderful adventure.... with all the wonderful people in it.

Helgina Gwathmoor was much beloved by one generation after another. Other women's daughters and granddaughters and great granddaughters all knew her and loved her. ...as did their sons, and grandsons, and great grandsons. They were brought to her as a matter of course in their births, their christenings and upbringings, their engagements and weddings, and on and on. She lived to be 103.... or maybe more. No one knew. The facts of her own life had slipped away long ago.... and she was remembered and revered as a reflection and an illumination in the lives of all those who were lucky enough... even to have known her.

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Sybil Bruncheon's "Holiday Reminder!... A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT FROM P.E.T.A…

… is YOUR pet safe from the dangers of OVER-celebrating?"...

The heartbreak of alcohol abuse in the modern pet household... Does your pet drink privately when you're at work??... Have you ever seen your pet casually brush things off kitchen counters while staring at you... or pretend to read the newspaper, and then eat it?... Does he or she hide stashes of catnip or old smelly socks under sofas, in cardboard boxes, or buried in houseplants?... Does your four-legged friend cry inconsolably during broadcasts of the Westminster Kennel Club show... or old Nine Lives commercials??... Does your pet secretly entertain OTHER pets in your home when you're away on vacation, possibly while wearing a coconut brassiere and a grass skirt?... Have you found livestock-nudey magazines, kitten calendars, cassette tapes involving barnyard sounds, or OTHER pets' collars in YOUR underwear drawer???... Has your pet begun to wear make-up, very subtle at first, but gradually tending towards evening make-up for just a simple walk around the block in the morning?.. and finally lipstick way outside its lip line? These are all warning signs of the lonely downward spiral of pet-substance-abuse... don't let shame or "magical thinking" keep YOU from helping your loved one!!!! Act now!!!!!! Dial P-U-S-S-Y D-R-U-N-K today! That's right! Dial 787-793-7865....There's no time to waste!!!...

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Charles Barsotti (Sept. 28, 1933 - June 16th, 2014)

For any animal lovers out there: Charles Barsotti (Sept. 28, 1933 - June 16th, 2014)

Many of you have known for years of my deep affection for the cartoonist Charles Barsotti whose work appears regularly in the New Yorker Magazine. His iconic little dog cartoons are always funny and often touching, but none more so than this one. I remember the day I turned the page in my copy of the magazine and this image was on it. I was in a little cafe in the Village just a block from home and enjoying my croissant and latte on a rainy but cozy morning. There were maybe six other people chatting at tables. I glanced at the picture, the image of the entrance to Heaven, the older man arriving, and the little dog bounding towards him.....and then I read the caption. I will never forget...ever, that moment...

I was stunned as tears began to literally flow down my face. When they started hitting the paper, the sight of them only brought more heavy tears, and I had to cover my face to hide a sob choking its way up my throat. I grabbed my napkin, but it was no use....It was clear that I was crying and I rested my elbows on the table and smothered my grief, but it was too late. People had started to notice because the nice waitress came over and whispered to see if I was ok. I looked at her and saw the other people looking over with gentle expressions of concern. I couldn't speak...so I turned the cartoon to her and pointed. She looked puzzled I think because she perhaps couldn't believe that it was something on a page of a magazine....and then her eyes widened...and stared. And they filled.... filled quickly! She blinked and looked like she had to read it again to be sure. She turned away and then back to me. Our eyes told us everything we needed to know. She put her hand on mine and pressed and then walked away wiping her eyes.

The man behind the counter asked her something, and I could see her explaining as his face grew solemn and then saddened... the lady at the table next to mine asked if I was alright, and (as best I could!) I mentioned the cartoon...she seemed nice so I held it out to her. Smiling softly, she took it and ....her eyes did the same thing... glancing, reading, widening...and then her eyes closed. She stayed like that for a moment, her mouth set for a second, and then two tears began to slip down... she opened her eyes, now changed completely and gulped a sound ...or a word but couldn't finish...

I don't need to tell you that we all shared the magazine that morning...all of us strangers in a little cafe with the rain falling outside on West 4th Street. Each person was deeply touched, and we began to chuckle through our collective tears at how simple Barsotti's lines are, both drawn and written. And we all marveled at how such a sweet image could express a humorous little joke on the surface, as well as a profoundly deeper message underneath.

I have shared that cartoon over and over on my page here on Facebook whenever a friend has posted about the passing of a pet. And I have said every time that this image is what I hope is waiting for us...certainly waiting for me.

Charles Barsotti lived to be 80, a good long life, but... when I think of his wonderful eye and voice and hand and spirit being still now... no more beautiful thoughts like this to be drawn and shared, well... I'm sure you know how I feel. And all I can do is to look at all the brilliantly simple cartoons he created, and this one in particular, and feel the gratitude, joy, and tears for a few black lines on a white page... drawn and written. And that they can live within you for a lifetime....and beyond...

http://www.kansascity.com/news/local/article567945/Beloved-New-Yorker-cartoonist-Charles-Barsotti-dies-in-Kansas-City.html

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