Pussy Meow

My Name is Meow
The Autobiography of a Cat
BY S. LOUISE PATTESON
With an Introduction by SARAH K. BOLTON
PHILADELPHIA GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO 103-105 SOUTH FIFTEENTH STREET
Copyright, 1901 By George W. Jacobs & Co.
To “Guy”
In the fall of 1895, while the National Convention of the S. P. C. A. was in session in Cleveland, a group of people stood in the assembly room one day discussing “Black Beauty” and “Beautiful Joe.” One expressed the hope that as the horse and the dog had now secured a public hearing, some one would be willing to undertake the same for the cat. That same evening “Pussy Meow” began writing her story. Its only object is to breathe out the joys, the sorrows and the longings of a misunderstood and much maligned fellow-creature, and to secure for her the consideration which humanity owes to the dumb.
Cleveland, O., 1901.
I have read with great interest this true story of “Pussy Meow,” written by one, who, in the midst of a very busy life, finds time to be a devoted friend to the speechless, and to study their nature and habits. The life of the author has been full of noble deeds for animals, and I am glad of an opportunity to say how much I wish all women would do likewise.
The book abounds in practical suggestions about the care, the food, the comfort, and the needs of the animal world, blended so pleasantly with the story that both young people and adults will find it charming and helpful. The picture of the happy home of mother and child, where cats sleep in the sun, or kittens frolic and make merry with their human friends, will linger in one’s mind long after the book is closed. Now one’s heart is touched by the pathetic death of a homeless creature, and again one laughs at the winsome and intelligent acts of our dumb companions.
After reading the book, some will remember to make their pets happy on Christmas day, rather than spend all for personal enjoyment. Some, it is hoped, when going into the country for the summer, or for a vacation, will take their cats with them, as did the writer of “Pussy Meow,” and not let them starve alone at home; or, on returning to the city, leave them on ocean beaches, or deserted mountain-tops, to die of hunger and cold.