The fact that I’ve never seen a single production of Cats has always been a point of personal pride. I’ve always known, in an intuitive sort of way, that the musical just wasn’t for me: I’m not a fan of the over-wrought, pseudo-rock bombast of Andrew Lloyd Webber, I neither know nor have any interest in finding out what a Jellicle Cat is, and, most importantly, I’m firmly Team Dog. (I have been known to love individual cats, but I am hardly what one would call a cat person.)

Still, I am nothing if not professional and once I heard that Tom Hooper had directed a film version of the musical, I knew I was going to have to suck it up and see the damn thing.

And let me say this: I can’t say for sure that all productions of Cats are bad (although I have a hunch) but I can certainly say that this one is.

How. . .did this happen? How did they decide that the best course of action was to take some combination of actual make-up and CGI and create these sort of horrifying cat-human hybrids, with what looks like real fur and whiskers growing off of their human-shaped bodies? And why, oh why, do the female cats have breasts? Why are their hands and feet human? Why on earth is Jennifer Hudson’s Grizabella wearing nail polish?? Why does one cat appear to have a handlebar mustache? Am I on catnip?

What’s more: Once they’d made these choices (for choices, I suppose, had to be made) how did they then look at the finished product and say, ta da! Yes, this is complete and this will be our Christmas release, a film we fully hope and expect will garner Oscar nominations and glory for all those involved and that definitely won’t give nightmares to small, impressionable children.

If you ask me, this thing was doomed from the start. Maybe you can get away with humans dressed as cats on stage, where there is a comfortable distance between audience and actor, where we are more inclined to suspend our disbelief and give into the artifice of a thing. But in film, an inherently intimate genre, this was never going to work. The humanoid cats, rather than being inspiring or adorable or magical, are just kind of disturbing.

And it’s not just the costumes. I find the whole endeavor bizarre. I realize it’s all loosely based off T.S. Eliot’s Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, Illustrated—highbrow!—but maybe that’s where it should’ve stayed? I still can’t believe that a musical featuring songs called “Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats,” “The Rum Tum Tugger,” “Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer,” and “Skimbelshanks, the Railway Cat” went on to become one of the longest running Broadway productions of all time. (I also love that in the midst of all this fantastical wordplay is a song called “Memory.” So basic.)

Lord knows the actors here aren’t to blame. There are lots of talented people up on that screen, chief among them Dame Judi Dench as the all-seeing cat matriarch, Old Deuteronomy; Ian McKellen as Gus the Theatre Cat, who is given one last triumphant hurrah at the Jellicle Ball; and Idris Elba as our villainous Macavity (for whatever reason, Elba is the least CGI’d of them all; had I seen him on the street I would not think, “ooh, a cat!” but might’ve assumed the poor fellow had just had a rough night). Others, including James Corden, (who gave me my only genuine laugh of the proceedings in a bit involving a failed catapult) and a curiously sexy (albeit now famously denuded) Jason Derulo as the aforementioned Rum Tum Tigger, give it their all. Honestly, they all give it their all, including wide-eyed newcomers Francesca Hayward (of the Royal Ballet Company) and Laurie Davidson, playing what passes for the romantic leads of this endeavor (they nuzzle a lot).

There are other big names: Taylor Swift, getting a featured number as a vampish sex kitten who swoops into the ball on a crescent moon, is just fine. (But a star isn’t born.) And, more significantly, there’s Jennifer Hudson, as Grizabella, who sings the show’s featured hit, “Memory.”

Readers, it gives me no pleasure to report that Jennifer Hudson is . . . not great in this role. She is, objectively, a brilliant singer and she could’ve crushed the song. But she chose, instead, to emote a lot during the singing—crying, gulping, quavering—in such a way that the song loses its sonic purity. She’s clearly gunning for that Oscar here and someone—specifically Tom Hooper—should’ve held her back. Also—and this is not an exaggeration—her character, a formerly fancy uptown cat kicked to the streets, spends roughly 90 percent of the film with a snot bubble coming out of her nose. This obviously wasn’t a detail from the play—you can’t see snot bubbles from a live theater audience. So this was a specific and deliberate choice made by the producers. Justice for J-Hud.

As for the dancing: Apparently the entire cast went to something called Cat School to learn how to move and pounce and climb like a cat. Maybe they should’ve stayed longer? Only a few times in the film did I feel that the movement approximated actual cats. Cats are remarkably nimble and slinky creatures—they do things like arch their backs when they get scared and lick themselves to groom. They have uncanny balance and climbing ability and curl into tight balls when they sleep. But you see very little of that in the film. Mostly, these people just look like exceptionally good human dancers in creepy cat costumes.

What can I say? I knew I wasn’t going to like Cats and I didn’t. It’s possible, I suppose, that if you are predisposed to liking Cats you will like this movie. But I doubt it. Some things are best left on stage. As for me, I wish I could go back to a time before I’d seen Cats. To quote the famous song: “I remember the time I knew what happiness was. Let the memory live again.”

When Emily Meadows took her rescue kitten to the beach for the first time, she couldn’t believe how he acted. Not only was he a natural on the leash, but he buried his head in the sand to find toys and didn’t even mind a wave or two coming his way.

“Once I saw that, I knew he was an adventure cat and that he’d do anything,” Meadows says. “I told people he was going to be famous and everyone thought I was crazy.”

As it turns out, her premonition came true. Pip the Beach Cat, as he’s lovingly called, has become a quasi-celebrity in Ocean City, Maryland, as he strolls down the boardwalk to visit local businesses, volunteers at schools and senior centers, and is even coming out with his own children’s book (he signed the contract with his paw).

“People are just drawn to him and love the way he looks,” Meadows says. “I’ve never had a cat where people see him, stop, and say how gorgeous he is. He’s very photogenic.”

Pip’s good looks have catapulted him into social media fame, with more than 6,000 followers on Instagram, 11,000 on Facebook, and a recent article in the New York Post.

At just under a year old, the orange tabby wound up on the doorstep of Meadows’ friend of a friend in Berlin, Maryland. When no one else wanted to take him in, she figured she would care for him temporarily but quickly fell in love with his, let’s call it, unique personality.

“He is different than any other cat I’ve ever seen,” says Meadows, who lives with her husband and two other cats. “He had a ton of energy and was so rambunctious, we realized we had to take him out in order to tire him out, so that’s where his adventures began.”

Those adventures have included Pip on a paddleboard and boogie board, or even simply coming along for errands since he loves the car so much.

In fact, Meadows never used to be a year-round Ocean City resident, choosing to spend winters in places like Colorado or Europe in the past. (She even spent a stint in Baltimore, bartending at Cinghiale for a year.) But Pip has shown her there’s plenty to do in the community, no matter the season.

Some of their favorite hangouts include Backshore Brewing, which is open to pets and humans all year, as well as Ocean Gallery, where owner Joe Kro-Art has a special affinity for Pip.

“Joe is Pip’s biggest fan,” Meadows says. “He’s made a bunch of art for him and named him the official greeter at the gallery for 2019. We’ve been calling it Pip’s first summer job.”

Beyond that, though, Meadows wants to use her cat’s popularity for good and regularly takes him to do “readings” at special needs schools, work with underserved kids in the community, and visits local senior centers and nursing homes to keep people company. One patient—who suffers from pretty severe, non-verbal dementia—lights up and even talks every time Pip walks in the room.

“Seeing him interact as sort of a therapy animal has been so neat to watch,” Meadows says. “It has been an eye-opening experience because Pip just naturally has this ability to show a range of emotions and people connect with that.”

So what’s next for Pip (aside from his summer job and children’s book deal)? Coming to visit Baltimore, of course. He’ll be in town on March 11 hopefully meeting up with another well-known cat, Killer of Hampden, and to volunteer at the after-school program at St. Francis Neighborhood Center and model for the Show Your Soft Side campaign in partnership with BARCS.

“At the end of the day, we want Pip’s mission to be helping people,” says Meadows, who works at Barn 34 restaurant, but may soon devote her life full-time to Pip. “He’s helped me rediscover another side of Ocean City, proved that rescue cats are the way to go, and given light to people who may not otherwise be recognized.”

Halfway through the workday—after the caffeine has worn off and you’ve responded to your 50th email—you might find yourself in need of a pick-me-up, and nothing provides a boost quite like a four-legged fur ball. In fact, studies show that animals can improve mental health, lower stress levels, and lead to an all-around happier life. And now, instead of browsing adorable internet cat photos on your lunch break, you can play with them in real life at Baltimore’s first-ever cat café, located at the historic Whitehall Mill.

Two years ago, when Cam Tucker, the owner of Charm Kitty Café, visited the first cat café in D.C., he immediately wondered why Baltimore had yet to join the growing trend of cafes that doubled as adoption shelters. As a lifelong cat-lover and Baltimore transplant, he saw a similarity in his favorite pet and newfound city: both were deserving of second chances. Even the newly renovated mixed-use space his café shares with other vendors is a sort of revival. “We’re taking something old,” says Tucker, “and turning it into something special and unique.”

The café is certainly one of a kind for Baltimore, acting as both a foster home for cats from the Baltimore Humane Society and a co-working hangout for local residents and area business people, with java by Zeke’s Coffee and treats by Dark Side Cookies. Customers can walk in or make online reservations for 60-minute blocks of kitty time or register for full-day passes, which they can use to co-work alongside the whiskered critters any time.

With a continuous cycle of 10 cats that were mostly surrendered by previous owners, the café will provide additional space for the no-kill humane society to save more animal lives. “This is heaven for these cats,” says BHS executive director Christine DeCorse. “It gives them a comfortable environment where they can socialize with other cats and even people. Having them here is as close to a home as you can get.”

Soon, local cat lovers will also welcome a second cat café in Hampden early next year. Similar to Tucker, owner Amanda Bennett was inspired to start Neko No Kafe after a cat café visit in Canada. While no mention of a co-working space has been announced, the rest of the concept remains the same with adoptable cats from Passport Animal Rescue, a full coffee bar with beans from Chesapeake Bay Roasting Co., and bites from SweetSide Café.

Back in Whitehall Mill, Charm Kitty Café’s felines come in all colors, shapes, and personalities, and can even be adopted by customers via an on-site application. “When Baltimore is ready for a dog café, we’re there,” laughs Tucker. “I’ve got my hands full with the cats already, but stay tuned, you never know.”

We’ve all felt that familiar tug on our heartstrings when we see an animal in need; especially out in the cold this time of year. And as much as we wish we could adopt every single animal, life gets in the way. Maybe you already have a house full of pets and can’t spare room for another, perhaps your apartment doesn’t allow them, or maybe your allergies have forced you to only admire animals from afar.

With an estimated 185,000 stray cats in Baltimore City alone, it’s a harsh reality that without proper shelter, heavy snow and low temperatures kill many of these cats each winter. So, what’s the average animal-lover to do, to help our furry friends this season?

There have been tremendous efforts to humanely control Baltimore’s stray cat population in recent years, through a method called Trap, Neuter, Release (TNR). This allows feral cats to peacefully live out the remainder of their lives, while keeping the population in check. BARCS Community Cats project continues to provide TNR services to an estimated 3,000 cats per year. Despite these incredible efforts, thousands of these cats still need help after being returned to the streets.  

The good news is that there is a low budget and easy way to help keep your neighborhood strays warm this season: kitty condos. By that, we mean building winter cat shelters. Using materials from your local hardware store, as well as some common household items, you can build an insulated cat shelter to keep your feline friends happy and healthy throughout the winter. 

You will need:

• Rubbermaid-style storage container with a fitting lid (18 gallons or larger)
• Roll of Reflectix Insulation (found at hardware stores)
• Sheet of foam board (optional, for extra insulation)
• Roll of Gorilla Tape
• Sharpie
• Ruler or measuring tape
• Hairdryer
• Box cutter
• Pair of scissors
• Straw (not hay!) from a hardware store or nursery
• Catnip (optional)

Step 1: Using the Sharpie and ruler, draw a 5-inch square entrance on one side of the storage container.  The bottom line should be at least 4-5 inches from bottom of the container. 

Step 2: Using the hairdryer, warm the lines of the square on the container. This will make the material easier to cut through.

Step 3: With your box cutter, carefully cut the left, right, and bottom sides of your square, leaving the top intact, to create a flap. Fold the flap upward so that it will jut open a few inches. (Yes, cats will squeeze through this tiny opening!)

Step 4: Cut your foam board to the size of the bottom of your container and place inside.

Step 5: Cut your Reflectix Insulation to completely line the sides and bottom of your storage container (covering the foam board on the bottom). Also cut a piece to cover the inside of the lid. Be careful not to place the insulation too close to the edges of the lid, or the lid will not close securely. Secure all edges and overlapping areas with tape.  

Step 6: Cut an opening in the insulation to match the opening of the flap you created in Step 3. Place tape all around the edges of the entrance, to secure the insulation to the flap, and to cover any sharp or messy edges to make the cat’s entry/exit safer.

Step 7: Fill with straw, not hay! Straw is warmer and dries more quickly, while hay is more likely to retain water. Fill the straw about 4-5” from the bottom of your container. Even if it appears to be blocking the entrance, the cat will burrow their way inside. Optional: Sprinkle catnip inside, to entice the cats to come check out their new condo.

Step 8: Secure the lid and place your finished shelter outdoors, in an area that is accessible to your neighborhood cats. To find out if your shelter is being used, you can open the lid and see if there is a cat-sized indentation in the hay–if so, that means it’s being put to good use. If you find that your shelter isn’t being used after one week, try sprinkling more catnip, and/or moving your shelter to a new location.

This activity is family friendly, though kids should be supervised while handling the materials for safety.