SOMERVILLE — Well, this has gotten out of hand. Er, paw.
The race for the fictional role of “bike path mayor” began earlier this summer as a joke between two friends, who each put up a handmade campaign sign promoting their cat as the rightful leader of the Somerville Community Path.
A few others took the concept and ran with it, adding their own signs nearby. Then there were more. And more, and more, stretching farther down the bike and pedestrian path near Davis Square.
As of this week there were nearly 90 lawn signs there, dozens more than in July. As the semi-official end of the “campaign” approached, the real race seemed to be just how big this thing could get.
“We love that the community is having fun with it,” said Mallory Bissett, owner and “campaign manager” of a black-and-white outdoor cat named Berry. Bissett teamed up with friend and neighbor Janet McNamara, who owns an orange cat named Orange Cat, to put up the original signs.
Neighbors who have joined the rapidly growing art installation have done so for their own reasons.
“I just kind of wanted to add to the ambient chaos,” said Caitlyn Hana, who posted signs on the path for her two cat-idates Halvah and Hekate. “There’s not a lot of good going on right now, but this is good.”
Halvah is polydactyl, a common genetic trait in cats that causes paw anomalies.
“She’s got like 27 toes,” said Hana, a 30-year-old dating coach.
Her sign indicates it’s “Paid for by Somervillians for Polydactyl Porch Potatoes.”
The project, while comical, has also been a chance to promote real-world civic engagement.
One sign that appeared early on includes a QR code that links to a Google form where people can vote for their preferred candidates. Voting ends Friday, the last day Somerville’s human residents can register to vote in the upcoming preliminary election for (human) mayor, City Council, and School Committee.
Ramu Thiruvamoor, a 50-year-old researcher who was walking the path studying the lawn signs recently, said he appreciated that a stunt like this is “bringing to lots of people’s attention that there’s a real election going on,” while also “taking the edge off a little bit.”
Some of his favorites, he said, are the signs with puns, quips, and dad-joke-like slogans.
He’s partial to one sign with a photo of a cat named Balllucidoux strolling atop editions of National Geographic magazine that says, “He Stands on Issues.”
His daughter, meanwhile, liked one that shows a cat waving a wand that says “Bippity Boppity, Somerville is My Property.”
There is ample diversity among the candidates as their ranks have grown. While it started as a race between two cats, there are now dogs, turtles, a bird, guinea pigs, even a cactus plant. Some are running for mayor, others for attorney general, “Kitty Council,” or “Queen.”
Their platforms cover many aspects of city life seldom talked about by human campaigners. A cat named Clawdius is, per one sign, “pro-naps” and “pro-treats.”
A small dog named Sally, meanwhile, calls for “More Mommy, Less mailmen.” She’s supported by “Dogs Against Doorbells.”
At one end, an ankle-height sign designed to look as if it were placed there by the city’s rodent population says “RATZ 4 MAYER.”
So far, more than 6,000 votes have been counted, according to Edward Armstrong, who is running the ad hoc voting platform.
What the winner — and its owner — will have to show for their victory beyond bragging rights has yet to be determined.
Armstrong is marketing director for Tandem Vet, which is opening a new clinic in the city. But he’s just offering some behind-the-scenes help with the project, Armstrong said. Neighbors made it clear early on they didn’t like the look of the grass-roots effort having a private sponsor.
There has been talk of putting up a “welcome” sign bearing the name of the victor, he said (nonbranded, of course). But for now he’s “taking a back seat” while making weekly trips to the path to count up all the new candidates and add them to the list.
Benji Meller, 38, isn’t surprised the collection of lawn signs grew at such a rapid clip over the summer.
“This is the land of Fluff,” Meller said, referring to the famed, regionally popular marshmallow topping, which is celebrated in the city each year in a quirky festival that draws thousands. “So it fits.”
Meller, who works at Mass General Brigham, and his wife, Kesley Ramsey, moved away from Somerville for a few years, but plan to return soon.
“It’s pretty unique that there’s an entire community that supports this and keeps it growing,” he said. “This is why we’re moving back.”
Spencer Buell can be reached at spencer.buell@globe.com. Follow him @SpencerBuell.