You’ve probably noticed an uptick in the videos of shop cats on your feed recently. With almost all of them stemming from Queens native and cat–loving icon Michelladonna’s Shop Cats Show, you may be wondering where you can experience shop kitties as often as she does. That was my reaction, at least. After scouring old Reddit threads and eventually finding the ShopCats app—which helps you locate local shop kitties on an interactive map—I’ve found a plethora of kitties for you to leave campus for and pet to your heart’s desire.
The Last Word Bookshop—220 S 40th St.
Located just off the edge of Penn’s campus on 40th and Locust streets, The Last Word Bookshop is a book lovers paradise. From the cozy atmosphere to a staff that’ll immediately find anything you need, the shop is an excellent place to catch an escape from the hustle and bustle of campus life. The pièce–de–resistance of the shop, however, is their wonderful little cat, Millie. Proclaimed to be the “queen of 40th Street” by shop–owner Larry, Millie is a key part of the Last Word.
“People say all the time, you know, every good bookstore has a cat,” says Larry. “When she first came to the bookstore, she was freaked out and stayed in the back room for months … but eventually she realized she was a bookstore cat. She’s like the greatest thing in the universe.”
The Last Word Bookshop had another cat, Lester, for over 15 years, who sadly passed away three years ago and left a kitty–shaped hole in the Bookshop. Out of sheer luck—when in mourning and having no idea what to do without a live–in kitty—Larry received a call asking if they were looking for another cat. An elderly woman was moving to a nursing home and was looking to rehome her pets, and from the moment she sent a photo of Millie—who ironically shares a name with Larry’s mother—he knew that they couldn’t let her get away.
Millie is an absolute sweetheart, with wild patterns of fur covering her body (Larry calls her a “tabby–tortie”). She waddles around the Bookshop day and night, snuggling up to any and everyone who comes to pet her. And when she’s looking for a snack, she takes to her cubby and chews on an old edition of The Daily Pennsylvanian—something we all should aspire to do.
Like all bookstore cats, she manages everything—from licking bookends to public relations. With nearly every single online review mentioning her, Millie is quite the draw for the Last Word and makes your book shopping all the more enjoyable. So if you’re looking for some comfort after failing your midterms, Millie (and Larry) are happy to accommodate.
Talking Headz Salon—4922 Baltimore Ave.
Moving deeper into West Philly, along the iconic Baltimore Avenue, is Talking Headz Salon, an eccentric hair salon that does “rad hair for rad people.” The atmosphere is electric, with purple walls lined with fake animal skulls and neon lights creating an incredible space to get your hair done. Talking Headz preaches the importance of an inclusive environment and supports its customers in finding their individuality. Their Google reviews are full of incredible photos of brightly colored hair, mullets, shaved–sides, and of course, their live–in, orange “micro–manager,” Biggie.
Walking into the salon, Mr. Bigs is sat front and center on the welcome desk—ready to provide hair consultations and assist in any transactions that come his way. Never without his complimentary bow–tie, which he wears because “he has to be dressed very professionally,” his power in the salon is clear. He runs around all day, trying to eat the stylists’ bagels and playing with anyone who gives him attention. He gets especially excited when Salon Assistant Audrey and other staff members drum on his butt with paper towel rolls. However, when he needs some time away, she’ll put on “his stories” (an iPad with videos for cats), and he’ll sit under the desk and watch for hours at a time.
Rescued from a cat cafe three years ago, Biggie took a bit of time to adjust to the Talking Headz environment. But like Millie, it soon clicked for him that this is where he was meant to be.
“He’s a sweetheart, a real lover,” says Audrey, who has a photo of Mr. Bigs on her desk. He’s made her time at Talking Headz exponentially better and is a key part of why she’s excited to come into work every day. She’s, of course, not alone in this as people from all over the West Philly community come in often to visit him.
“There’s a handful of people who come in just to see him,” Audrey says. “One guy comes in almost every day, and there’s a mom who brings her child in to see him too. He likes to sit in the window whenever we’re closed because he lives here, and watch people go by. He gets very excited about doggies and everything, but sometimes people come by just to see him at the window.”
Biggie has made himself an essential part of the Talking Headz community, and for Halloween this year, Audrey dressed up as him: “I got some orange joggers off Shein, and then I spray painted them. I also bought some cat ears and a tail, and I cropped one of the ears.” The resemblance was uncanny in the photo she had of the two of them together, but his squished up face was the real show–stopper.
Mr. Bigs’ residency at Talking Headz isn’t the only reason to check out the salon. But as their micro–manager, you’re bound to interact with him from the moment you walk in with your dull and flat hair, to the moment you walk out looking as “rad” as all their other customers.
Common Beat Music—4916 Baltimore Ave.
Practically next door to Talking Headz is Common Beat Music, a brick–and–mortar music shop that offers everything from the latest records, to music supplies and instrument repair services. Customers can even sell their own records and rent out any gear they want. Even more so, Common Beat frequently brings the West Philly community together through collaborations with local artists for in–store DJ sets.
When scouring through their many record boxes, you may find yourself feeling a drop of drool hit your shoe. This drool can be sourced to TicTac, the black and white kitty who runs the shop. She’s old, scruffy, and at times loud, but a pretty cool boss according to Bay, an employee at Common Beat.
The owners of the shop, Carlo and Keri, found her in their backyard three years ago and brought her in immediately. She was skinny and a bit beaten up, but she immediately made her place clear at Common Beat when she bullied out their other shop cat Fauci. Potentially being deaf, TicTac is a very vocal girl. But, she’s a real lover, as well. Immediately upon walking into the store, she came up and began to nudge at my legs and was ecstatic when she received head scratches.
“[TicTac is] definitely a big part of our appeal and just the work environment in general, it’s really nice to have her,” says Bay. “She's super chill, always around … a big part of our work day. She’s very easy, for sure. She helps with everything from transactions to security, she definitely runs the place.”
With her face on their front sign, it’s hard to miss her when you visit Common Beat. Even while customers are coming in with their concerns, or to talk Bay’s ear off about records they bought 40 years ago, TicTac sits front and center on the counter to listen and assist however she can. And when she’s tired and needs some time away, she has a house under the register or uses a covered–up mixer under one of the shelves as her secondary bed to sleep the day away.
Although she normally screams at everybody and hates kids like no other, TicTac is what makes Common Beat Music what it is. Standing in for the cat scratching a record on their logo, she’s integral to their image and what they bring to the West Philly community—something that’s apparent in their TicTac–filled Instagram feed. The shop is a space for West Philly musicians, music–lovers, and TicTac fans alike—leaving its mark on the kitty–run grounds of Baltimore Ave.
The cats of West Philadelphia (especially Millie, Biggie, and TicTac) are here to assist you in anything you need—a book, a haircut, or even a new turntable—promising you a smile and a comforting getaway from your everyday stresses on the eastern side of 40th street.
