When people hear the name "Cat's-paw Press," the usual comment they make is, "Oh, you must like/have cats!" Well, this is true, but it's not where the name came from. The fact is while our cats were the inspiration, they were not the reason. Here's the story.

Roughing It Elegantly: A Practical Guide to Canoe Camping was the first title for this new press. Choosing a proper name for the company was very important. What to call it? Use my surname? No, that's not good at all. Use something of our neighborhood address? No, that's not any good either. I looked around the house, seeking some sign of a suitable interest that would carry the feeling of the book, yet not be too restrictive.

My eyes fell upon the two cats we had at that time. (You with cats know that at almost any time your eyes can fall up on the cats, no matter where you or they are!).

One of the two, Sam, the Siamese, was the senior feline. He came to us as a kitten while three of our children were still living at home. By 1986, he was almost 13. He was a mellow, rather serious, mild-mannered sort of cat, though he took seriously his duties of guarding the household against dogs. Sam lived to the ripe age of 18.

In 1976, Don and I had moved back to Tullahoma, Tennessee. Sam of course had gone with us. Jean, our second daughter, had gotten a green-eyed black kitten at the Humane Society and had named him Macbeth. He early learned to "fetch" toys such as wine corks. She was a college student at the time, and at Christmas, she brought him to us in Tennessee because she couldn't keep him in her current residence. He and Sam and the late Little Girl made the trip back to Minnesota with us. He and Sam became fond companions.

Macbeth was quirky. He was a cat who lived at the edge. Nervous -- there was a period of time he wouldn't go outside in the daytime. Later, after we had moved into our present house, he would go out at night, but early in the morning, he would summon us to let him back in. Consider that to do this, he had to jump from the railing of the deck to the roof of the house, go along the edge and peer over into our bedroom window (this is a second-story level!).

In time, he and I had a very strong bond. He was the one who took an active interest in the doings of Cat's-paw Press, often insisting on sitting in my lap while I worked at the computer. These were the two felines in residence when Cat's-paw Press was founded. Macbeth died in November, 1995.

A few weeks after Sam died, our eldest daughter brought Tweed to live with us. Tweed, whom we had long since dubbed "the Grandcat," had often stayed with us when Lynne had to go out of town on business. Later she married, and her husband turned out to be allergic to cats. It was with some sadness that Lynne gave Tweed up to us, but he adjusted very well. As you can see, he was a pretty laid-back sort of fellow, very mellow, virtually unflappable. While he and Macbeth did come to some sort of understanding, they were never the great buds that Sam and Macbeth had been.

Our current resident feline is Mactavish. We know very little about his history, only what we have been able to surmise from observation. Jean guesses his age at about 4 1/2 (1997). Mactavish is a very mannerly cat: stands back in the kitchen, out from underfoot. He is not one to jump up on counters or get into things. While he will, if properly motivated, perform a (very) few stupid cat tricks (as on the left), he's shown here doing what he does best (on the right).

And in case you're curious, here's a picture of the overseer of the Tool Shed at Cat's-paw Press. This is THE Patricia J. Bell, aka Pat Bell

Copyright © 1997 Patricia J. Bell
Last updated: November 12, 1997