Cats on film are as old as film itself. From the advent of the motion picture, cats have proved irrestistible subjects for directors looking for interesting action to capture on celluloid. Unique feline movement and expressions lent themselves well to the silent silver screen. And as actors and actresses started becoming familiar to the insatiable flicker-going audience, so too were animal actors becoming recognizable and beloved stars in their own right.
Without a doubt, Mack Sennett was the name when it came to producing comedy shorts. Starting out with Keystone Studios in 1912 (whose films were distributed by Mutual Film Corporation) Sennett formed Mack Sennett Studios in 1917 with his films being distributed by Paramount. A vast majority of silent screen comedians had their start, either directly or indirectly, at Sennett. These included Charlie Chaplin, Mabel Normand, Roscoe Arbuckle, Harold Lloyd, Marie Dressler, Louise Fazenda, Chester Conklin, Ben Turpin, Harry Langdon and many more.
Included in this list of notable screen stars were numerous thespians of the non-human variety, including Teddy the Great Dane, Billy the rat, Mike the goat and Cubby the bear, to name but a scant few. Teddy was by far the most famous and steady-working of all these animal actors and a valuable acquistion for Sennett Studios. Cats were always part of the stable of animal actors ready to work at a given notice in front of the camera. A 1917 article even mentions a Persian cat named Fuzz among the attendees of a charity dinner put on by Teddy for Humane Animal week. But one particular cat named Pepper became film’s first true feline celebrity.
The story goes that Pepper was discovered on the studio lot one day, as described in a segment of this article:
excerpt from Do Animals Have Genius?
by Harry Carr
Eddie Cline, the director, found Pepper one day by accident. They were making a comedy scene when two little half-starved kittens came crawling up thru a loose floor board in the studio floor. One was Pepper.
Pepper’s companion kicked up his heels and took flight — rather a wabbly, half-starved flight. But Pepper stood still and peered around the group with naive astonishment. That look put her at one bound into movie stardom and gave her a life of ease and luxury.
Ordinarily, a startled cat puts up her tail until it looks like an elephant’s trunk upon which hair lotion has been used. Sticks her ears back and opens her mouth in an ugly snarl. When Pepper was startled, she always looked back over her shoulder with eyes that were big and round and astonished; and her head always was on one side.
It was that expression that made her a big movie star. – Motion Picture Magazine – June 1925
Whether or not this was how Pepper was actually discovered may never be known for certain. Most sources do cite that Pepper was a stray found on the Sennett lot. Other references put Pepper in the Keystone studio as early as 1913, and indeed it is widely accepted that her first screen appearance was in the Keystone short A Little Hero from that year. Starring Mabel Normand, the simple film finds Mabel leaving home where her cat immediately tries to make lunch of her canary. Her tiny dog, who has been left outside, runs to fetch help in the way of three canine companions who chase the kitty away and save the day.
The credits for this film are somewhat puzzling, as some references say that Teddy the dog also appears in this film (he does not . . . Teddy would not start at Sennett until 1917). Neither the dog or cat (or canary, for that matter) were credited back in the day, and the cat actor was not singled out for any particular praise. While Pepper was often referred to as a Maltese cat (a catch-all term for a gray or blue cat of any breed), the cat in A Little Hero appears to be closer to a British Shorthair in breed, while Pepper of later fame was distinctly Oriental in design. Although we have previously stated that Pepper starred in this short, we tend to believe this was not, in fact, Pepper in this film.
When Sennett launched his own studios in 1917 he also started a vast and impressive publicity machine rolling. Realizing quickly that animal actors were garnering attention (thanks in part to his acquisition of Teddy) he started making notes of his animal actors. Pepper made a very brief appearance in the Sennett short A Bedroom Blunder in which she is shown wearing a bow and playing with a ball of yarn which she manages to get completely tangled up with. This was actually her first screen appearance.
But the true launch of Pepper’s career came with the short film Are Waitresses Safe? starring Louise Fazenda, one of the most highly rated commediennes of her time. The earliest reference we could find to Pepper in print was this blurb about the short film:
Louise Fazenda, long conceded to be one of the funniest women on the screen, makes her Paramount – Mack Sennett debut in “Are Waitresses Safe?” and it is confidently asserted that for laugh-provoking qualities this vehicle will be her greatest triumph. The comedy, directed by Victor Heerman and supervised by Mack Sennett, includes in its cast besides a large number of supernumareries such as well known funmakers as Ben Turpin, Slim Summerville, and also Teddy, the Great Dane, and Pep the Maltese cat. – The Salt Lake Herald Republican, November 26, 1917
Pepper was sometimes credited as Pep throughout her career, the names being seemingly interchangeable. The next day the Great Falls Tribune also mentioned Pep in the short, citing that the cat was a new Sennett find.
Pepper’s role in Are Waitresses Safe? was fairly brief. A woman and man are sharing a table at a diner. The woman’s cat nibbles at some food in the man’s hand and then helps herself to some of his drink as well.
Interest in Pepper must have been immediate. By the end of December newspapers across the U.S. were running a lovely piece, complete with photo, about the Sennett’s new comedy team (although they reference Pepper as a ‘he’, another common mistake):
Louise Fazenda and “Pep” are screen rivals, but good friends for all that. They share stellar honors in a forthcoming Mack Sennett Comedy.
The jealousies of the theater world are proverbial, but there are two comedians who have an inseparable and unalterable affection for each other — they are Louise Fazenda and Pepper, the famous comedy cat.
Both, strange to say, are under regular contracts with the Mack Sennett comedies.
Miss Fazenda is one of the most famous comediennes in the movies and Pepper is without question the most famous cat. Pep is more like a dog than a cat. He can be taught to do anything. The only trouble with Pep is that when he gets tired of acting her departs from the scene with one tiger-like bound and is seen no more that day.
He is a little peeved at Miss Fazenda just at present because she directed a scene the other day in which he had to come on with fly paper on his feet. – Daily Capital Journal – December 26, 1917
The film they were working on at the time of this article would launch Pepper into superstar status. The Kitchen Lady sealed Pepper’s talent in the hearts of critics and moviegoers alike, which reflected in the number of times Pepper was mentioned during ads for the film:
While not readily available (sadly most of Pepper’s film legacy is lost), reviews from the time of the short’s release paint a picture of how the most notable scene played out:
Everything happens in “The Kitchen Girl,” (sic) which is as a matter of course, since the girl is Louise Fazenda. A cat, a bear and a goldfish are important characters in the general scrimmage. It is to laugh — it is to roar — when the goldfish catches hold of the cat’s tail, negligently dropped in to the bowl, and will not let go, though yanked round the house from garret to cellar. – The Los Angeles Times, January 15, 1918
This segment was talked about repeatedly over the years every time the popular film replayed all around the country. Mack Sennett himself singled out Pepper’s supposedly impromptu moment as one of the funniest he ever filmed:
excerpt from Dignity Dethroned Gets a Good Laugh
Mr. Sennett once made a picture showing a cat looking at a canary in a cage. The cat was licking its chops and looking longingly at the bird. Its tail slipped into a jar of gold-fish, and one of the fish rushed over and gave the tail a vicious jerk. The cat forgot the bird and everything in the surprise of the moment and rushed pell-mell out of the scene. The scene is said to be one of the funniest ever put into motion pictures. – Los Angeles Evening Express, August 16, 1921
One knew they had reached Hollywood stardom when Louella O. Parsons took notice, and she included Pepper (although referring to her as a male) in a lengthy piece about animal actors with an equally lengthy title:
excerpt from The Rat That Wouldn’t Run Up the Spinster’s Skirt — Salaries of Actors in Screen Play Went On Day After Day Till the Rodent Finally Did His Part – An Interesting Story of Four-Footed Movie Stars
by Louella O. Parsons
Temperament, we are told by the motion picture producers, is not limited to the actors. It is the animals that bring gray hairs to the heads of the directors and make life a burden for them.
The advance of realism and art in motion pictures is responsible for these developments of temperament. In the early days a dog or a cat was merely used for decorative purposes. The heroine could look doubly attractive if she had a white collie or a swagger wolfhound by her side. A long-haired Persian or angora cat added atmosphere to the room and gave the audience a chance to say “How cunning,” but these days when a dog or cat served as a background are gone, and today many a plot depends entirely upon the good nature of one of these household pets.
The Keystone Comedies has filmed perhaps more cats, dogs, goats, ponies and burros than any other company. One of the men whose business it is to see that these animal actors have the best care the land affords says that cats are difficult to work with. They do not take kindly to discipline. They are independent and suspicious. A Maltese cat named Pepper is one of the celebrities of the Mack Sennett comedies, and even he has to be coaxed. He will not “take orders.” Pepper was born in the studio and has never been outside of it except for brief warlike excursions into neighboring yards.
He saw Kleig light before he saw sunlight. Consequently Pepper is right at home in the moving picture studios. He has been an actor since he was a wee kitten, carried into the “set” in a hat. Since then he has had prominent parts in dozens of comedies.
But he is a victim of temperament like the other actors. Pepper will allow himself to be tied with ribbons; to be perched up on tables; he will eat out of the same dish with a white rat for the sake of art. Up to a certain point they can do almost anything with Pepper. But when Pepper thinks they have gone far enough he suddenly gives one tiger leap out of the set and is seen no more that day. Once he has left a set nothing known to the wiles of directors will induce him to return. Pepper never gives the slightest warning of his intention to depart. One bound and he is on his way.
Oddly enough, although he is a famous hunter in private life, Pepper never offers to harm the white rat he works with in so many pictures. The rat’s name is Billy.
Billy never makes any secret of his interest in and his devotion to Pepper. He simply adores Pepper. When they work together in pictures the rat always tries to cuddle up to the cat. Pepper only looks down upon the rodent with terrible disdain and edges away. – The Illustrated Buffalo Express, January 20, 1918
Sennett struck while the iron was hot and Pepper’s next appearance was in the short film His Hidden Purpose. One review from the February 4, 1918 issue of The Spokesman Review, stated: “Chester Conklin is the principal victim in the Sennett comedy. The cat that made such a hit in “The Kitchen Lady” is in evidence again and a hard-hitting ram that never misses the mark makes his bow.” It is not clear exactly what Pepper’s role was in this short, although it should be noted that in most of these films Pepper’s appearances were fairly brief, isolated to only one or two gags.
Friend Husband, another lost film, included some notable Pepper moments which also made audiences sit up and take notice. As stated in the April 8, 1918 issue of The Brooklyn Citizen: “‘Friend Husband,’ a Paramount – Mack Sennett creation, owes much of its hilarity to the astounding behavior of ‘Pepper,’ the cat comedian.”
The hilarious-sounding plot involved a harried husband (Wayland Trask) who learns that his rich uncle will bestow a large sum of money upon Trask’s baby boy, with the sad complication that Trask doesn’t have any children. A neighbor (Charles Murray), Teddy the dog and others try to help by procuring babies from around the neighborhood with hilarious confusion naturally arising.
Teddy, the big Dane dog, and Pepper, the cat, both of whom have become internationally famous in Paramount — Mack Sennett comedies, are both seen in this play.
Pep and Ted have a little argument which takes place in the kitchen flour bin; both fur and flour flies.
Mr. Sennett regards it as one having a particularly strong appeal for women on account of the three babies and the animals. There is a scene in which Pep, the cat, is set to entertain a baby, which is charmingly funny. – The San Bernardino County, April 26, 1918
By this time Pepper was regularly being mentioned in advertisements for Sennett’s short films, with such descriptors as “The Cat Comedian,” “The Funny Cat,” “The Cunning Cat,” “The House Cat,” “The Much Loved Sennett Cat,” “The Cat of Rising Popularity,” “The Cat With a Thousand Lives,” and even “Little Mrs. Pepper the Cat.” It’s clear that mentioning Pepper the cat, usually credited alongside Teddy the dog, was a real draw for potential filmgoers.
Pepper’s next appearance was in Those Athletic Girls which featured the Sennett Bathing Beauties and a gaggle of lions. Her exact role in this film is not known but the publicity people made some note of her and Teddy’s larger co-stars:
Teddy and Pepper, Paramount – Mack Sennett dog and cat, respectively, are consumed by jealousy. In the latest comedy a whole den of lions takes part. The lions almost took part of the leading man, too. Glen Cavender had a narrow escape when one of the beasts went mad, but the two familiar animal actors only sniffed disdainfully. – The Atlanta Constitution, April 7, 1918
Film credits for Pepper continued throughout 1918 but without too many more newspaper mentions of her in association with these films (see Pepper’s page for her complete Filmography). Without access to these shorts today it is difficult to confirm many of these credits with absolute certainty. However interest around Pepper continued steadily, and several articles appeared in 1918 in which she was singled out or at least mentioned as part of the Sennett menagerie. Two examples:
Shadowgraphs column by Sara Lee
Charles Chaplin, Chester Conklin, Fatty Arbuckle and other slapstick artists had best look to their laurels.
For the slapstick world is threatened by an invasion of new players. They’re animals.
One is Pepper, a cat. Pepper has demonstrated in recent comedies that she can register surprise, dismay, curiosity and fright, and doesn’t budge when a revolver is fired under her nose. She has been insured for $5,000. – The Omaha Daily News, May 19, 1918
Jeanie MacPherson is working on Mr. DeMille’s next story, the nature of which has not yet been divulged — that is, Jeanie is working on this script when she is not busy working on the Folks at Home Fund Dance which is going to be held at the Lasky studio, June 8, and which is going to be quite an event in filmdom. Mack Sennett is sending over his Siberian canaries to appear alongside of Pepper the cat, Teddy the dog and the Mack Sennett zoo. – The Courier Journal, June 23, 1918
Pepper’s fame was such that she was even getting noticed by the hugely popular fan magazines of the day. One notable article in Motion Picture Magazine gave Pepper an entire feature:
And Now Comes “Pepper,” a New Photoplay Star
His Salary Is Not Enormous, But He Is Worth It
The most valuable cat in the world is “Pepper,” a half-grown Maltese, who has won name and fame acting in Mack Sennett comedies.
Pepper has been insured for five thousand dollars, and is worth a great deal more than that sum. “Pepper’s” unique value lies in the fact that there will never be another cat like her. She has the fighting heart of a bull-dog. Like Gunga Din, she “doesn’t seem to have no use for fear.”
You can discharge a .45 Colt close enough to singe “Pepper’s” hair, and all she does is to look around with mild surprise. All dogs she regards with contemptuous indifference.
One day they put fly-paper on Pepper’s feet. An ordinary cat would have proceeded to go insane. “Pepper” tried several experiments. She tried to bite the fly-paper off. When she found the biting wasn’t good, she tried to scratch the paper off with the other leg. Finding there was no merit in that method, she tried to take the fly-paper by surprise. After playing ‘possum for a minute, she made a wild, sudden leap. But, to her disgust, the vigilant fly-paper leaped right along her. With that “Pepper” philosophically abandoned the struggle.
“Oh well,” Pepper seemed to say, “one fly-paper doesn’t make a summer.”
The most severe trial that afflicts “Pepper’s” young life is a white rat which lives in the studio and which also acts in Mack Sennett comedies. “Pepper” considers the rat altogether too familiar. When they act together in comedies, the rat insists upon sticking his pink quivering nose up to smell around “Pepper’s” face. As no well-bred actress cat would consent to kiss a rat, even in the interests of Art, “Pepper” always moves away with a baleful look and a most indignant meouw.
The only actor on the lot with whom “Pepper” is not on terms is the little black bear. “Pepper” always gives the bear a most respectful and a very wide berth. Bears are uncertain critters, and no one knows it better than “Pepper.” Instinct has informed her that the bear is likely to be taken at any minute with a burning curiosity to know how his big, gleaming teeth would feel sliding around thru a piece of cat. Consequently, when the bear is acting, “Pepper” finds it appropriate to have an engagement with herself up on the roof of the “light” studio.
A ball of yarn conceals almost uncanny delights for “Pepper.” She will start to unwind it and roll over and over in the yarn until finally she is all wound up in it — a cocoon with a kitten inside. “Pepper” is a marvelously skilled Nimrod, and she does her fishing by using her tail for fishing rod. There is a tank of fish in the studio that will bite on anything, and when “Pepper” discovered their voracity, she took a huge delight in sticking her tail in the tank and at the first nibble making a quick leap with Mr. Fish clinging to her handy fishing-rod.
Alas! that it must be related, the breath of scandal has involved “Pepper.” The whole studio has been shocked by the discovery that “Pepper,” altho she has no wedding-ring, has prospects. – Motion Picture Magazine, May 1918
This last paragraph merely hints at scandal, but of course with so much public attention it is only natural that some of Pepper’s dirty laundry might eventually be exposed. And clearly Sennett was certainly not one to pass up a chance for some publicity, even if it did cast aspersions on Pepper’s reputation!
Film Land column
Pepper, the Famous Paramount – Mack Sennett cat, has been the sensation of several recent comedies, and she now desires to announce that the recent additions to her family will not interfere with her art in the least. Pepper recently added six little Peppers to her hearth and home. – The Post Crescent, June 28, 1918
Either The Wichita Beacon was late with the story or Pepper was becoming severely corrupted by Hollywood, as they ran this story on November 9, 1918:
Screen Screenings column by P.H.A.
Word comes from the west coast studios that “Pepper,” the famous Paramount – Mack Sennett cat so popular in the comedies in which Louis Fazenda appears, has abandoned her stage career, having recently become the mother of six “pepperettes.”
This kittens apparently made their film debut in Whose Little Wife Are You?
Pick ‘o the Plays column, At the Theatres by Ed Marshall
Old Cat Pepper and her kittens and the dog Teddy are sure making a hit in the Mack Sennett comedy, “Whose Little Wife Are You,” they are real stars and you just see them. – The Sandusky Journal, December 31, 1918
All this was happening while the Spanish flu epidemic was running rampant. The popularity of the animal actors at this time might have been a direct result from the stresses of the period when people were looking for any kind of light diversions to ease their hearts from the ravages of disease and war. Hollywood was among those taking precautions against the disease, as related in this note from Motion Picture World magazine (note that the number of Pepper’s offspring somehow increased by one!):
Mack Sennett has equipped his forces with little bags of powdered camphor asafetida and other sweet-smelling unguents. The bags are worn around the neck just south of the wishbone, and everyone on the place, including Teddy the dog, Pepper the cat and seven kittens are wearing them.
Pepper continued to appear in Sennett short films throughout 1919 but while mentions of the cat actor in ads and blurbs continued (for the shorts Her First Mistake, Rip and Stitch Tailors, Reilly’s Wash Day and The Little Widow) they rarely included any details about her specific scenes.
One exception was the short Never Too Old, which described a bizarre scenario in one advertisement:
There are more genuinely funny things in this two-act Paramount — Sennett comedy than space permits us to tell about. But here is one of the funniest love affairs you ever saw. Imagine a solemn-looking bald-faced monkey falling in love with Pepper, the Sennett cat comedianne. Yep, that’s just what happened when they were taking this picture, and it was so funny that the Director left it right in the story, and you’ll simply roar with laughter when you see it. Come early to avoid the rush. – The Evening Sun, March 19, 1919
But Pepper continued to be mentioned in various news stories regarding the Sennett studios. Teddy was the focus of an article about the dog star and his trainer Joe Simpkins in which Pepper was referenced:
excerpt from Teddy is Peer of All Animals in the Movies
But we artists will get temperamental, you know. For one thing Teddy hates that cat “Pepper,” who also acts in the Mack Sennett comedies. He never makes an ungallant move in that direction; he just sits and looks. And if looks could kill Pep long since would have been gone. – The Edmonton Journal, May 24, 1919
Apparently Pepper was even known to answer some of her fan mail:
The only feline star of the film firmament, Pepper, the Mack Sennett cat, got a “fan” letter the other day. It was addressed to “Mr. Pepper Cat,” and was from a little girl who told the actress cat about her kitties at home, how much they enjoyed seeing her act, and asked if Pepper would kindly send an autographed photo of herself. This Pepper did, with the assistance of the lady in the mailing department, and the little girl was made happy by a picture of the gray cat, with the ink print of her paw in the lower right-hand corner, and the words, “Pepper, Her Mark.” – Film Fun – November 1919
However stories about Pepper’s children began to shed light on the fact that she would not be easily replaced:
excerpt from Pets of Pictureland
by Emma Linsday Squier
At the Mack Sennett Fun Factory there are several animals who do something for a living besides bringing good luck. There are “Teddy,” the Great Dane, and “Pepper,” the gray cat, who until recently divided first honors equally if not peaceably. Pepper as a feline performer had no peer until she became the proud mother of six young Pepperlets, but now her girlish shape is ruined, and also her inclination to work, and the worst of it is, her half dozen children show no signs of inheriting their mother’s greatness; tis ever thus with the offsprings of geniuses. – Motion Picture Magazine, September 1919
The lack of a reliable replacement (although in reality she did have understudies) was a looming issue. Pepper, who had previously been cited as being so comfortable and directable in front of the camera was starting to show signs of rebellion, and right when one of the studio’s most ambitious comedy films was in the works:
Pepper, Smartest Cat in World, Peeved
Pepper is peeved. He seems to know that he is the smartest cat in the movies, and heretofore his sole competitor in the animal kingdom as actors in Mack Sennett Comedies was Teddy, the smartest dog in the world. But Mr. Sennett produced a new funny film, and he dug up pigs and chickens and geese and mice and heaven knows how many more different kinds of animal actors and gave them all a chance, and Pepper, being feminine, sulked. During the outburst of temperament, Pepper desired to quit the show right then and there, and so a cage had to be built to keep Pepper in, for if the cat quit the show before the film was done — no film. A lot of extra good things from the studio kitchen, and much petting is bringing Pepper back to good humor, however, and it is a saucer full of milk against a nice piece of cat meat, that Pepper will be on the job livlier and smarter and funnier than ever when the next film is made. – The Akron Beacon Journal, December 5, 1919
The next film was the five-reel feature Down on the Farm. The project included a large number of Sennett regulars, both human and animal, and was extremely popular, playing for many years after its initial 1920 release.
Pepper has several notable moments in this film which involve her stealing a pie, chasing after an elusive mouse and knocking a vase onto a lecherous banker’s head.
A series of personal appearances were held for the film’s Hollywood debut at the Kinema theatre in Los Angeles in which the film’s child star Baby John Henry (who real name was Don Marion) as well as Teddy and Pepper would meet their fans. The Los Angeles Record reported the upcoming event in their April 15, 1920 issue:
The lobby of the Kinema theater next week will take on all the semblance of a polite reception party, for it is announced that in conjunction with the world premiere of Mack Sennett’s latest five reel comedy production “Down on the Farm,” Teddy, the famous dog, Pepper, the comedy cat, and Baby John Henry will make their headquarters at the Kinema, where they will personally receive distinguished baby visitors during the run of the picture.
The arrangements have been completed through E.M. Asher, representative for Mack Sennett, who is canceling an important Eastern trip until the unrolling of the new Sennett comedy production has taken place.
The matinees will introduce the famous dog to the youngsters, while in the evening Pepper, the cat, and several other surprises from the Sennett studio, will create interest among patrons. Baby John Henry, the lovable youngster, who plays such an important role in “Down on the Farm” will also be on hand to shake hands with everybody.
The film renewed interest in Pepper’s career and she gave her very first full-length “interview” for Picture Play Magazine published May 1920:
An Interview with Pepper
by Emma-Lindsey Squier
I have been kicked by Theda Bera, bitten by Mary Pickford, and cursed by Lew Cody. But never — until recently — had I ever met a star who was so rude as to spit at me when I was introduced. That’s the kind of treatment I was subjected to out at the Mack Sennett studio when I went to interview one of their lady stars who is a cat.
But before I bring upon myself a libel suit, I will mention in passing that Theda Bera is a trained mule. Mary Pickford is a pet bear, Lew Cody is a parrot with a profane vocabulary, and the spitting star is Pepper, the feline comedienne, who lends her Maltese charm to the Sennett comedies.
She didn’t want to be interviewed, and she didn’t give a damn who knew it. When I addressed her in the honeyed tones reserved for cinema twinklers, be they possessed of four feet or two, she slunk away from me with the undulating motion of a vamp, lowered her ears to half-mast, and when I persisted in my request for her nine lives’ history, she arched her back, narrowed her eyes, and actually spat at me. Then she walked away, her tail in a perpendicular quiver that fairly dared me to come on and try to get fresh.
The Sennett publicist suggested that Pepper’s temper and temperament were improved by food, so I obtained from the cafeteria a supply of meat scraps which I proffered the gray lady, which she accepted with a dainty twitch of the whiskers and a resigned shrug of the tail.
“Well, sit down, won’t you?” She invited almost graciously. “Can I offer you a saucer of milk?”
I declined with thanks, and Pepper settled herself on her haunches to nibble at the scraps of meat while I humbly nibbled at the scraps of wisdom flung in my direction by the renowned screen artiste.
“I’ve been starring with Mack Sennett for three years,” she told me in a voice that finally subsided into a purr as the meat scraps diminished. “I was just an extra at first — oh, yes, I have no objection to speaking of my humble beginnings. I was born of poor but honest parents — father was a traveling man, so I saw very little of him, but mother thought I had a good figure, and that I would do well in the movies.”
She began complacently to wash her face.
“I strayed in the studio when I was — well, much younger than I am now,” she said kittenishly, “and Mack Sennett saw me and recognized my screen talents. He tried me out in a picture — I’ve forgotten the name — one can’t keep track of all one’s starring vehicles — and he declared that I could ‘register’ expression as well as a human being — and, of course, I can,” she added affably.
“Then he used me in almost every picture he made. I have starred in ‘Back to the Kitchen,’ ‘Down on the Farm,’ and I have been supported by Louise Fazenda, Charlie Murray, Ford Sterling, and Teddy the dog — all very clever beginners,” she interpolated graciously, “except Teddy who is a Swede — or maybe a Dane — anyway, he’s a foreigner, and I consider him a regular hound.”
“Cat!” thought I, but I didn’t say it; her claws were too near.
“I have had to do some very trying stunts,” she continued, bringing her tail around to be polished up a bit. “I have had to go into a tank of water — which I thoroughly detest — and I’ve had to work with a mouse and restrain my natural cravings.
“No, I’m not one of those cheap performers called trick cats — I simply do what I’m told to before the camera, and, though they accuse me of being temperamental, I am always on the lot, ready for my part. I never leave the studio; in fact, I have my summer and winter bungalow here.”
And she indicated, with a padded paw, a wire in-closure with an ultra-modern, though miniature house which was labeled with a sign, “Villa Paprika.”
“And have you — er, that is, have you ever thought of deserting the screen in favor of domestic life?” I hesitated, with one eye on the paw that was being buffed by Pepper’s pink tongue.
“Oh, dear me, yes,” she replied promptly. “I have raised a large and flourishing family — but” — she suspended the paw in mid-air while she gazed at me with melancholy green eyes — “one of the sorrows of my lives is that none of my children inherited my genius. I regret that I, their mother, should have to say this, but they can’t act, they’re afraid of the camera, they prowl around with low companions, and to speak categorically, they are just plain — bums!”
I expressed my sympathy as best I could, with the suggestion that other artists had to bear the same cross.
“Yes,” she sighed, “it is certainly a disappointment. And Mack Sennett regrets it, too. He expected to star some of my progeny, but they prefer the commoner alleys of life rather than an artistic career.
“I suppose you know that I am heavily insured?” She went on, standing up and stretching herself as a polite hint that the interview was over. “Oh, yes, indeed. I can’t say just how many thousand dollars my lives are valued at, but I’ve heard my friend Mack say that there are just two things he’d never forgive; one is to burn down the studio, and the other is to kick me. So you can see for yourself how important I am. Those bathing girls and those comedians are well enough in their way, but they just don’t weigh much!”
“What a catty thing to say!” I remonstrated, but Pepper merely flicked the end of her tail at me and walked away. So that’s why I say she is a cat, and I don’t care if she knows that I think so.
With the success of Down on the Farm, one would have expected Sennett to double down on his star team of animal actors. But around that time some serious changes took place at the studio. In October it was announced that Louise Fazenda had left Sennett studios:
Fazenda and Her Cats Leave Sennett Fold
Louise Fazenda has one great hobby — cats. The Special Pictures commedienne, who recently left the Sennett fold, has no less than six tabbies ranging from a baby tortoise shell to a big black alley tomcat that she has named Louis in honor of President Louis W. Thompson of Special. – The Des Moines Register, October 24, 1920
While Louise obviously did not take Pepper with her, the studio did suffer another major loss when Teddy’s trainer did not renew his contract with Sennett in January 1921. Pepper’s two main co-stars were now gone and as a result Pepper also disappeared from public view, having only two other appearances in Sennett shorts in 1920: The Quack Doctor (before Louise’s departure) and On a Summer Day (after Louise’s departure but before Teddy’s).
Pepper’s part in The Quack Doctor mimicked many of her early appearances. She is shown being hugged by the baby before having a lobster, which is also hanging out with the child for some reason, clip onto her tail as she runs in circles.
One thing to note is that this cat is clearly not the same Pepper as in earlier films. This Maltese cat is not of Oriental stature at all. This would indicate that the stories about the original Pepper not cooperating with the filmmakers was likely true to some extent. But again, without access to the majority of Pepper’s films we can’t truly know how consistently she appeared in these shorts.
But this was not quite the end of Pepper’s career! In 1922 movie fans were surprised by announcements about the return of certain stars to the Sennett fold:
Sennett Does Some Signing Up
For lovers of wholesome comedy, here is a welcome bit of news from Sennettwards. Little John Henry, Jr., child star, Teddy, the canine luminary, and Pepper, the cat are coming back to the silver sheet after a long absence. Mr. Sennett has planned a series of child and animal comedies, the first to be called “Bow-wow.” It is rumored Mr. Sennett has also signed Louise Fazenda for these pictures. – The Fort Wayne Sentinel, July 2, 1922
The team was indeed reunited and appeared in the short film entitled Bow Wow (another apparently lost film) which also included a bear named Snooky.
Reports indicated that more family friendly comedies featuring these four principals were forthcoming from Sennett. And once again Pepper was in the spotlight in a series of articles focusing on animal actors. But these pieces began to reveal an unfortunate trend . . . Pepper was becoming less and less happy in her role as a film star. The first signs of discontent surfaced in this report from The Los Angeles Times published on July 9, 1922 in conjunction with the release of Bow Wow:
excerpt from Meet Filmdom’s Animal Stars
“Teddy,” “Pepper” and “Snooky” Face Interviewer
I confess freely that while in the East my interest in things cinematical was focused more on the stars with four legs than on those with two. I was not nearly so excited about Charlie Chaplin’s love affairs as I was about the news that Joe Martin [a chimpanzee] had “gone bad.” And I was not nearly so worried over the rumors that Ben Turpin is achieving temperament and becoming every inch the star as I was about to report that Charlie, the Universal elephant is becoming so difficult to manage that he was soon to be condemned to death.
You’ll have to pardon me if I seem unduly interested in these four-footed actors. I have known them for a long time you see. I knew Pepper, the Mack Sennett tabby cat, when she was just a plain gray pussy who believed that a lady cat’s place was by the fireside, and had no screen ambitions whatsoever.
So you’ll understand why when I returned from New York my first inquiries were about these former friends of mine, and I am sorry to tell you that some of them have been observing the human stars too closely and have been hopelessly inoculated by the movie bug known as “ego.”
Take, for example, the case of Mrs. Pepper Sennett.
Not content with having a large, airy cage all to herself, with all modern conveniences including hot and cold milk at any hour of the day and a life insurance policy that would give credit to Mary Pickford or Rudolph Valentino, she has developed a streak of temperament and absolute disregard for the wishes of her directors
You know how to make a Maltese cross? Try to take a close-up of her. That is Pepper’s pet detestation. In this way she differs — most sensibly, perhaps, you think — from the usual feminine star, who asks nothing better than a series of them. But worthy as Pepper’s motives no doubt are, I feel, and it is rather the unexpressed sentiment of her fellow-workers on the Sennett lot, that in this abhorrence she goes too far.
In her last picture with Louise Fazenda she refused absolutely to be “shot” from the distance of four feet and she would not listen to blandishments nor yield to bribes. She simply would not stay “put.” So it became necessary, as has been the case many times before in the annals of filmdom, that a double be procured.
It is customary, of course, for stars to use doubles in risky feats or in long shots, but it is the first time to my knowledge that the star has demanded a double for a close-up. An advertisement for thin gray cats was inserted in the newspapers and a whole day was devoted to selecting from the throng of applicants a Maltese who was fitted by nature as well as by amenable disposition to pose in Pepper’s place.
One newspaper also included a snippet about Pepper’s refusal to sit still for a close-up:
Reel Chatter column by Mary Mae
The name of Pepper, comedy cat, can be listed among the feminine stars who are dieting this season.
Pepper got temperamental, stuck her tail up and refused to submit to a closeup. Her actions caused much concern as she has heretofore been a most willing actress. A doctor was sent for and he prescribed a diet, following a week in a sanitarium. Since Pepper’s return to her home on the comedy lot, her trainer has strict instructions to feed her raw ground steak once a day, and it must not be put through a grinding machine. Calves liver once a week, one tablespoonful of Squibb’s liquid petrolatum twice a week and plenty of good fresh water, air and exercise. Try it. – The Fort Wayne Sentinel, July 27, 1922
Despite having no known credits after this, reports of Pepper working on films popped up occasionally in 1923. On August 15, 1923, The Los Angeles Times printed an article by Charles F. Berry about Sennett’s film menagerie which included the following about Pepper:
The stories of some of the animal stars read like fairy tales — from back-alley cat to screen celebrity in a night. Pepper, famous because she is the only acting cat in the world, is an ordinary Maltese with about 50 cents at the present market value, yet there are few people in Hollywood with money enough to buy Pepper from Mack Sennett.
At Mack Sennett’s studio is a whole company of animal stars. Teddy, the aristocrat of all animal actors, is the hero of the lot. Molly-O, the cub that Mabel Normand introduced, has recently arrived at stardom. Pepper, of course, is the star cat on the lot. In taking a census the other day it was found that supporting Pepper were fifteen cats and forty kittens. A cow is kept on the lot to feed the cat cast. During an interview the cow expressed deep chagrin at being obliged to support fifty-six felines.
Sadly, this time, no comeback would be forthcoming. The Los Angeles Record broke the news on March 31, 1924:
Cinematters column edited by Ted Taylor
Pepper Passes — Pepper, Mack Sennett’s famous cat comedienne, is dead.
She died of old age March 25 at the cat and dog hospital.
Her exact age is unknown, the case with many another screen actress. But Pepper had been at the Sennett studio nine years. Presumably each year was a lifetime for the cat.
Pepper, plain Maltese, boasted no pedigree and never won a ribbon in her life. But she gained the love of scores of studio players and workers and of thousands of screen admirers.
The story went on to make national news, being reprinted all across the country:
Death Beckons to Famous Movie Cat
The career of “Pepper,” most talented of all felines appearing on the screen, was brought to a close on March 25 when the beloved cat died of old age at a cat and dog hospital in Los Angeles.
Pepper boasted no pedigree, neither did she carry off any ribbons at cat shows. She was just a plain Maltese, but acknowledged by everyone to be the most intelligent cat that ever worked on a movie set. In fact, Pepper was the only cat ever known to actually take directions. She will be remembered best in the old Louise Fazenda comedies.
Mack Sennett, her owner, consistently refused large sums for the purchase of Pepper. On one occasion quite recently, a large producing company needed a white cat in a picture. After trying many other they finally offered $75 a day for the use of Pepper, intending to give her a coat of white-wash. Mr. Sennett refused this large rental, as Pepper was growing old and he did not wish his pet to be subjected to this treatment.
Pepper had been at the Sennett studio for nine years, and her loss is mourned by everyone who knew her. – The Sioux City Journal, April 13, 1924
Some effort was made to replace Pepper with at least one of her progeny. The sole prospect was Pepper’s granddaughter, dubbed Pepper II, who apparently showed some promise . . . at least enough to warrant some publicity:
Motion Pictures column
Everyone remembers Pepper, the comedy cat that used to play with Louise Fazenda in the old Mack Sennett comedies. It was said that Pepper was the only cat ever known actually to take directions.
When Pepper passed all hope was lost of finding a successor to her. Her two children were hopeless. Tom proved lazy and temperamental, content to bask in the reflected glory of his mother. Pepper’s daughter is beautiful but dumb.
But not altogether dumb. She turned up a short while ago with three kittens. Two of them were just kittens, but one is slate-colored, sleek, green-eyed and intelligent looking — an exact counterpart of its famous grandmother.
Pepper II she has been named, and she gives every promise of filling the vacancy in slapstick comedy left when the old Sennett comedy cat died last year. – The Evening World Herald, April 14, 1925
A descendant of “Pepper,” the famous cat which appeared for years in Mack Sennett comedies, is another baby animal star soon to be featured.
Pepper died a year or so ago, leaving two children, “Tom” and “Beauty,” neither of which amounted to much. Some months ago, however, Beauty produced a litter of kittens and one of them showed such marked intelligence and looked so much like its famous ancestor it was named Pepper II and is being schooled for pictures. – Picture Play Magazine, August 1925
We don’t know if Pepper II ever got a real shot at stardom but no notable cat actors at the Sennett studio would emerge as stars until the 1927 discovery of another Maltese cat named Pussums who would essentially take over where Pepper left off.
Although gone, Pepper was not forgotten. In Harry Carr’s aforementioned June 1925 article for Motion Picture Magazine, he reminded everyone what made the world’s first celebrity cat actress so special:
Mack Sennett used to have a common alley cat named “Pepper.” She was valued at $5,000. A year or so ago she died. Ever since then he has been looking — and all his directors have been looking — for another Pepper. They have never found one.
The question that naturally arises is: “If one alley cat is worth $5,000 in the movies, why isn’t any alley cat worth $5,000 in the movies?”
The fact is, a very liberal percentage of the population of Hollywood have lugged alley cats around to the Sennett studio with that very question — asked with indignation.
Well, the reason is that Pepper was a Sarah Bernhardt.