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The following story of Old New York features a cat stuck in a tree on West 115th Street, two little boys named Kennedy and Abraham Lincoln, a Harlem police cat named Tom Findlay, a hefty police officer, two spiritual leaders named Father Divine and Sweet Daddy Grace, a Harlem cow pasture, the King Towers (NYCHA housing), a 600-pound fruit salad, a war on rats, and an annual baptism by fire hose.

Yep, this one is not your average cat story. And it’s all true.

Our story begins on Saturday, December 12, 1908. This is the day a well-known neighborhood stray cat called Haggerino the Tramp climbed to the top of a 60-foot tree in the back yard of 24 West 115th Street. I’m not sure what possessed the cat to climb so high, but once he reached the top, he was too scared to come back down.

For two days, Haggerino howled from the top of the tree. Real estate salesman Harris Fine and his son, Julius, who lived in the ornate brownstone at 24 West 115th Street, thought it was a burglar at first. Dr. Isaac Davidson at 22 West 115th Street and other nearby neighbors thought it was a rabid raccoon or someone being murdered. Then they looked up and saw the large white cat in the tree.

While some folks went to their roofs and began throwing old shoes and tomato cans at the cat, Dr. Davidson suggested they call the police squad. When Police Officer Coogan of the 104th Street station arrived (as the press noted, Coogan was not a squad, although he did weigh about 300 pounds), he took one look at the cat and refused to climb the tree. He suggested that the residents call the SPCA.   

24 West 115th Street, NYC
The cat was stuck in a tree behind 24 West 115th Street (red X). The building marked “Embassy Mansion” is 20 West 115th Street.

On Monday morning, two days after Haggerino climbed the tree, a 12-year-old boy named Rollo Kennedy put on his badge from the Junior League of the SPCA and told his mom that it was now his responsibility to rescue the cat. He called for his friend, Abraham Lincoln Selig, also a Junior League badge holder, to join him on his mission to relieve the poor cat of its sufferings.

When the boys arrived at the base of the tree, Rollo told his friend about his plan to rescue the cat: they would ask to borrow the Harlem police station cat, Tom Findlay, who would surely protect and serve a fellow feline. Getting permission from the men to take Tom, the boys placed the cat in a basket and carried him to the tree.

Upon hearing and seeing Haggerino in the tree, Tom Findlay also started to howl. His feline sirens encouraged Haggerino to begin his descent from the tree.

But just as the white cat got a few feet from the ground, Tom leaped up and began hissing. Resisting arrest for causing a public nuisance, Haggerino began wrestling his would-be rescuer.

Rollo watched in sorrow as the male cats jumped over a wall and disappeared down the street, knowing he was responsible for losing Tom Findlay, the pride of the Harlem police. (In 1909, the Harlem police had two police cats named Pete and Claude; I do not know if Tom ever found his way back.)

The Remarkable History of 24 West 115th Street

This concludes the cat story, but if you’re curious about the cows, the spiritual leaders, the war on rats, and the baptism by fire hose, continue on…

The location of 24 West 115th Street is noted by the red X on this 
John Randel Map (1818-1820).
The future site of 24 West 115th Street is noted by the red X on this John Randel Map (1818-1820).

The setting of the Harlem cat story took place on the former lands of Adolphus Bussing (b. 1703), a descendent of Arent Harmens Bussing and Susannah Delamater Bussing, who settled in Harlem as part of the Governor Thomas Dongan patent in 1639. Over the course of about 100 years, the Bussing family acquired hundreds of acres of land through purchases and marriages.

Adolphus was the son of Peter Bussing and Rebecca Vermilyea. He had 16 children (3 with his first wife, Maria Myer, and 13 with his second wife, Eva Lubberts), of which only 9 survived into adulthood. When his father died, Adolph received about 200 acres in Harlem, while his two brothers inherited the family property in Fordham Manor.

Lenox Avenue and West 116th Street. 1893
The photo taken in 1893 shows cows grazing on the former lands of Adolph and John Bussing at Lenox Avenue and West 116th Street.

Fast Forward to Father Divine and Daddy Grace

Father M.J. Divine in 1938
Father Divine in 1938

In the summer of 1933, a woman named Lena Brinson was leasing the three-story brick building at 20 West 115th Street, just two buildings east of the cat incident that took place 25 years earlier.

This building had once been called the Embassy Mansion, where banquets and other events took place. Under Lena’s management, the building served as a meeting house, a restaurant, and dormitories, where Lena sold meals for ten and fifteen cents and sleeping accommodations at one or two dollars per week.

Lena was a devout follower of a shady spiritual leader who called himself Father Major Jealous Divine. Father Divine, who was reportedly the son of freed slaves, was a former odd-jobs man named George Baker. He rose to fame among the Black community during the 1930s after founding the International Peace Mission movement.

Much has been written about Father Divine, whom many believe was a cult leader because he convinced thousands of followers that he was God.

In November 1933, Father Divine accepted an invitation from Lena to speak at one of her meetings. To thank him, Lena offered him an office and an apartment on the top floor of 20 West 115th Street. In this way, the large brick building became generally known as Heaven No. 1, or Father Divine’s Peace Mission Headquarters.

Lena became Divine’s top “Angel” and changed her name to Blessed Purin Heart.

20-24 West 115th Street, 1939 NYC tax photo
By 1939, when this NYC tax photo of 20-24 West 115th Street was taken, Father Divine had already moved to the former Eastman Business School at 123rd Street and Lenox Avenue (notice the sign on the middle building).
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New York Age, February 26, 1938

Over the next few years, Father Divine expanded his headquarters to include the brownstones at #22 and #24 West 115th Street. He called these two places his extension heavens or other heavens, where women called “Angels” dressed in white; had names such as Golden Star, Peace Love, Morning Star, Faithful Mary, and Saint Mary Bloom; and oversaw dining and dormitory services.

Father Divine was known for promoting communal living. Unfortunately, police were often called to his heavens for reports of assaults, riots, and overcrowded conditions. Following a reported breakup with Faithful Mary, as well as several mysterious fires that heavily damaged his “extension heavens,” the press reported that Father Divine appeared to be in financial trouble.

Bishop Charles Manuel Grace
Bishop Charles Manuel Grace

In June 1938, a West African evangelist named Bishop Marcelino Manoel da Graca (Charles Manuel Grace) took advantage of Divine’s situation by purchasing 20 West 115th Street–assessed at $38,000–for $20,000 in cash.

Bishop Grace (aka Sweet Daddy Grace) thought he could get an even larger following than Father Divine at his United House of Prayer for All People, which he apparently did: It is estimated that Grace founded hundreds of House of Prayers across the United States and overseas and had more than 500,000 parishioners. 

The War on Rats
In 1947, 20 West 115th Street reportedly burned down, forcing Bishop Grace to open a new congregation at 2320 Frederick Douglass Boulevard. That same year, hundreds of tenements between West 112th and 115th Streets were razed, and 2,237 families were evicted to begin excavation for a new housing development called the Stephen Foster Houses. The former “extension heavens” fell victim to this project.

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As part of the excavation, crews with the City Housing Authority spread a 600-pound “fruit salad” containing apples, pears, and carrots and a poisonous powder through the cellars of the old tenements on the construction site. A total of 9,000 tenements and warehouses throughout the city were targeted in what the press called a citywide war on rats.

Baptism by Fire Hose
Today the Stephen Foster Houses–renamed the King Towers following Martin Luther King’s death in 1968–take over much of the neighborhood. But the spiritual history of 115th Street continues in the form of an annual baptism by fire hose (Harlem Street Baptism), which started with the United House of Prayer for All People under Bishop Grace.

One can now only wonder if any of these trees in the King Towers complex once held a cat name Haggerino the Tramp captive for two days…

King Towers, Harlem
King Towers, West 115th Street, Harlem

A Christmas Catastrophe by Louis Wain.
A Christmas Catastrophe by Louis Wain. It appears that the “catastrophe” was due to a caged bird (perhaps supper?) escaping from its cage.
Peter the Cat, Louis Wain, 1897
Peter the Cat, Louis Wain, 1897

As I write this post, I am anxiously awaiting the arrival of “A Christmas Catastrophe,” one of the popular cat illustrations by the great cat artist Louis William Wain. Of course it is only a reprint, but I still can’t wait to hang it on my wall (and I plan on getting some more Louis Wain reprints in the future).

Louis Wain was not a New Yorker — he was born in 1860 in Clerkenwell, London — but he did live in New York for a few years, so there is a New York City connection to his amazing life story.

In 1884, Louis married Emily Marie Richardson, who had been the governess of his five younger sisters. The couple never had an opportunity to have children, but they did have a pet cat — a stray black-and-white kitten that they rescued after hearing his cries in their yard. This cat, whom they called Peter, would have a profound effect on Louis Wain’s life.

Louis Wain with one of his many feline pets and models.
Louis Wain with one of his many feline pets and models (perhaps this is the brown tabby that he spoke of in the New York Herald in 1909).

Shortly after their marriage, Emily was diagnosed with breast cancer. During her three-year battle, she took great joy in watching Louis sketch pictures of Peter. It was Emily who encouraged her husband to get the drawings published.

And the rest, as they say, is history. Over the next few decades, Louis would go on to complete thousands of cat illustrations (possibly 150,000) for various periodicals and children’s books.

As the writer H. G. Wells said of Wain in a statement read on his behalf for the BBC in 1925, “He has made the cat his own. He invented a cat style, a cat society, a whole cat world. English cats that do not look and live like Louis Wain cats are ashamed of themselves.”

In addition to his popular anthropomorphic cats, Louis Wain also specialized in psychedelic or kaleidoscope cats.
In addition to his popular anthropomorphic cats, Louis Wain also specialized in psychedelic or kaleidoscope cats. He was truly a cat man ahead of his time.

Much has been written about Louis Wain, and hundreds of websites feature his illustrations and books. For my story, I am going to focus on the years he lived in New York, on his memories of Peter, and on his opinions of New York City cats in general.

Louis Wain Moves to New York

In October 1907, Louis moved to New York City to draw New York cats (and work aside the city’s fat cats). Perhaps he was motivated to make this journey to truly follow in the footsteps of John Henry Dolph, who was called “the leading cat painter in America” in 1894.

Upon arrival in the city, he began working for William Randolph Hearst’s newspapers, creating syndicated comic strips such as “Cats About Town” and “Grimalkin.” (Incidentally, Cats About Town is the name of my New York City walking tour company. Great minds think alike…)

Americans welcomed Louis with open paws: the New York press called him “the world’s most famous cat artist” and he was often invited to take part of events hosted by the American Cat Fancy and cat clubs across the country.

Because my stories focus on events in New York City, I wanted to find out where Louis lived while he was in the city. My response from Google’s AI was as follows: “Specific residential addresses for his time in New York are not detailed in the available records.”

Sorry, Google, but you didn’t try hard enough. It took me five minutes to find the answer. According to the 1910 census report, Louis Wain lived in room 15A of the Frederick Hotel at 210 West 56th Street.

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The Frederick (formerly called the Sterling Hotel) at 210 West 56th Street was constructed in 1902 on land owned by Charles E. Ellis. The 134-room hotel, which was more of a boarding house, had approximately 50 residents, 7 maids, and 2 hired men in 1910. The proprietor was a widow named Winifred J. Smith.

In 1909, Louis was interviewed by a reporter for the New York Herald. The following is an excerpt from this article:

For the last fourteen years I have painted cats exclusively. When I first took to drawing and painting them they were treated as despised animals, looked on as vermin by sportsmen…The man who would take an interest in the cat movement was looked upon as effeminate. In fifteen years this has greatly changed.

“Peter, a pet cat who lived to be 16 years old, was my inspiration at the start. He was a wonderful black and white and was famous all over England for his cleverness. He didn’t like to pose much, in fact as soon as he saw me get out my sketch book he got sulky and refused to let me draw him. I have known only one cat vain enough to sit for a picture. That was a brown tabby I owned who positively enjoyed it. She would hold a pose for an hour.

A Kittens Christmas, Louis Wain, 1886
A Kittens Christmas, Louis Wain, 1886 Illustrated London News. Emily would die one week after publication of this illustration.

“Peter was very peculiar, not like the ordinary cat with one set expression. He had a face with a sardonic grin and the funniest look in his eyes. I went to the Illustrated London News with a lot of drawings showing Peter standing on his head and doing all sorts of stunts.

“The editor said, ‘but cats don’t grin, they don’t stand on their heads. It’s not art.’ However, the proprietor saw the drawings and at once commissioned me to do a double page for the Christmas number. This was an instant success and I have devoted myself wholly to drawing and painting cats.”

After speaking for some time about Peter, Louis told the reporter how he was able to draw hundreds of varieties of cats:

To most persons all cats look alike. To be sure there are certain characteristics that are the same in all, but there is an endless variety of expressions. If you have noticed, a cat has a round face. It is a series of circles, the cheeks are round, its chops are round, its anatomy is round, there are rings around its neck and its ears are largely round. Working from this point you can secure hundreds of different varieties.”

Louis Wain, The Attack on the Stagecoach
Louis Wain, The Attack on the Stagecoach

According to Louis, the outlook for cats was better than that of dogs, but Americans still had some work to do to make America great for cats. “I find, however,” he said, “a great love for animals among Americans. It only awaits organized movement.”

Louis continued, “It will require the devotion of women of wealth and social position who will give their time and means to it as the English women have done to bring the cat to this exalted position in America.” (Perhaps he was referring to Caroline Ewen, who met both those requirements.)

Carol Singing, Louis Wain
Carol Singing, Louis Wain

Louis also shared his opinion about New York cats, and why they were at a disadvantage from their fellow felines who frolicked in fields on the other side of the pond.

“New York cats live in basements. In the homes they are kept below stairs and in the factories, business houses, banks and warehouses they are kept in cellars and only come out of their retreats after dark when they make night hideous by their yowls.

Bringing Home the Yule Log, Louis Wain, 1910
Bringing Home the Yule Log, Louis Wain, 1910

“There is no repose for cats in New York, you see, on account of so much noise, rush, and movement. The weak brain of the cat is not capable of taking it all in and it becomes confused and unmanageable. This makes an underground animal, which has consequently, because of its unnatural environment, grown very uncertain in temper, not to say savage, and as a result the specimens seen about this city are more or less what we call in England ‘strays.'”

Louis Wain with cat
Even in his later years, Louis Wain surrounded himself with cats, both real and illustrated.

Although Louis had only intended to spend a few months in America, he stayed in the city until his mother passed away in 1910, returning to England and assuming his former role as head of the Wain family (human and feline). Louis suffered a stroke in 1938 and passed away nine months later at the age of 78.

In 2021, Amazon Studios released a movie about Louis Wain’s life called The Electrical Life of Louis Wain and starring Benedict Cumberbatch as Louis and Claire Foy as his wife, Emily. I watched it last night for the first time and I must say that the cats who portrayed Peter stole the show! (The film features about 40 different cats, so if you need a cat fix, this movie if for you.)

By the way, the main cat who played Peter in The Electrical Life of Louis Wain is named Felix Wilde, with cats Windsor Wilde and Norbury Ackland playing the younger and kitten versions of Peter, respectively. All three cats were trained by Charlotte Wilde

The Electrical Life of Louis Wain, 2021
The Electrical Life of Louis Wain, 2021

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Sometimes I find a ridiculously absurd story that isn’t specifically about a cat or dog or other animal, but I can’t resist sharing it. This crazy “cat tale” of New York City’s Gilded Age involves a two-family home on Hart Street in Bushwick, Brooklyn, a large hole in the ceiling, an even larger sabre, a bit of indecent exposure (for those days), a court hearing, a street chase, and a few cameo appearances by an unnamed cat.

The tale begins on May 18, 1893, when Justice Adolph H. Goetting of the Lee Avenue Police Court received a visit from Mrs. Theodore Loeffler and her daughter. Miss Loeffler told the judge that a few days earlier, her father had hired a plumber and a carpenter to fix some leaking pipes above their dining room ceiling.

To repair the pipes, the carpenter had to cut an 18-inch hole in the floor of the kitchen of Anton Miller, who lived with his wife directly above the Loeffers at 633 Hart Street. According to the Loefflers, when Miller saw the hole in his kitchen, he told the workmen to leave and refused to let them finish the job. The Loefflers asked the landlord to close the hole, but he told the tenants that he was too busy to fix it.

And here’s where the story takes a tumble down the rabbit hole, pun intended.

Hart Street crazy cat story

Because the hole was directly over the Loeffler’s dining room table, the Millers could see their downstairs neighbors while they were eating. One day while the family was dining, a cat belonging to the Millers dropped through the hole and onto the table. Hearing Mrs. Loeffler’s screams, Mrs. Miller rushed to the hole.

Reportedly, Mrs. Miller stumbled and accidentally let a stove lifter fall through the hole (a stove lifter is a metal tool used for lifting the burner plates off the top of a wood- or coal-burning stove). The stove lifter fell on Theodore Loeffler’s arm.

Army man with sabre
Miller began waving an army sabre, like this one here, through the hole.

At that point, Loeffler ordered Miller to close the hole.

“I’m not the landlord, and if you want the hole closed you’ll have to do it yourself,” Miller said.

As a reporter for New York Herald wrote, “This conversation took place through the hole.”

The two men got into an argument, and Miller started dropping dishes through the hole. The cat also dropped through the hole and landed on the dining table a few more times over the next few days to add to the chaos.

One day while the Loefflers were at breakfast, Miller began waving a huge army sabre through the hole, just above their heads. He threatened to cut off their heads if they said another word to him.

Then a few nights later, when only Mrs. Loeffler and her daughter were home, Miller dangled his leg–with only his red undergarments on–through the hole. After Mrs. Miller screamed, Miller calmly said “ta ta” and withdrew his leg. Then he put his face in the hole and scowled at the women.

That was the straw–or should I say scowl–that broke the camel’s back. Mrs. Miller took it upon herself to walk to the home of Justice Goetting in Bushwick. She told him that even though they had moved their table away from the hole, Miller continued to throw things down on them, “and several times the cat has come through.”

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The judge ordered Deputy Sheriff Denis Winters to go to the Millers’ home and issue an arrest warrant. Not so easily done…

When Officer Winters arrived at the apartment, Miller came running into the room wearing only his nightclothes and carrying what the officer said appeared to be a large German sword. To get away quickly, Winters slid down the banister and reached for the door handle, but not before Miller struck at his head and back with the sword.

A chase down Hart Street lasted for about 5 blocks until Miller fell down and twisted his ankle.

The Hart Street case of Loeffler vs Miller took place at the Lee Avenue Police Court
The case of Loeffler vs Miller took place at the Lee Avenue Police Court, than located at 6 Lee Street. NYC Records 1940 tax photo.

During the court hearing at the Lee Avenue Police Court, Miller and his wife cried, and Miller told the judge that everything that came through the hole had fallen accidentally. I doubt that Miller’s leg or his cat went through the hole by accident.

The case was settled when the judge ordered Miller to close the hole and then move out of the house immediately. The Millers accepted the deal, noting it was much better than putting Miller in jail.

I’m not sure if their cat moved with them or stayed in the apartment with the Loefflers on Hart Street…

For a closer look at the Bushwick neighborhood of Brooklyn, you may enjoy reading about the day it rained cats and dogs in Bushwick.

Don Dai, an English silver chinchilla, was the groom at the feline wedding at the Plaza Hotel

In November 1907, shortly after the Plaza Hotel had opened, an actress named Mrs. Patrick Campbell traveled from Liverpool to New York to embark on her second American theater tour. Mrs. Campbell arrived in New York City with her daughter, her son, and her tiny monkey griffon, Pinky Panky Poo.

Mrs. Patrick Campbell and Pinky Panky Poo
Mrs. Campbell with Pinky Panky Poo

Fred Sterry, managing director of the new Plaza Hotel, realized that rejecting Pinky Panky Poo would cause a public relations nightmare for the new hotel. And so he decided right on the spot to allow small pets at the Plaza.

Before long, all the high-society ladies of New York City were bringing their little lap dogs to the Plaza Hotel for afternoon tea.

One year later, an artist named Princess Lwoff-Parlaghy took advantage of the hotel’s liberal pet policy. Traveling to New York to paint portraits of famous Americans, she reserved a large 14-room suite at the Plaza Hotel for her own personal menagerie, including a small Pomeranian dog, an Angora cat, a guinea pig, an owl, an ibis, two small alligators, a small bear named Teddy, and a lion cub named Goldfleck.

Possibly encouraged by hearing these stories about the pet-friendly hotel, a wealthy and well-known cat fancier from Brighton, Massachusetts, decided that the Plaza Hotel was the perfect setting for a feline wedding. I’m not sure the bride and groom cats were crazy about the marriage, but it was pure marketing genius.

The Feline Wedding of Don Dai and the Quakeress

Cartoon of the Plaza Hotel feline wedding, 1912

In December 1912, Mrs. George Bailey Brayton (aka Helen C. Brayton) invited the owners of cats “of aristocratic temperament” to a wedding of her pet cats, Don Dai and the Quakeress, described as “a tabby of royal blood.” The feline wedding would take place during the Silver Society Cat Show in the Grand Ballroom of the Plaza Hotel.

Don Dai was a 13-month-old, prize-winning English silver chinchilla cat of British ancestry. His cat parents were also show cats named Don II and Donette.

Don Dai, prize-winning cat
Here is Don Dai, the proud groom of the Quakeress.

Mrs. Brayton purchased the cat for $150 and shipped him back to New York on the Wilson-Furness Leyland steamer Cambrian in his very own stateroom. On board the ship, Don Dai slept in a velvet-lined basket, had his own steward, and “partook of cream and only the daintiest morsels.”

Mrs. Brayton with one of her many prize-winning cats
Mrs. Brayton with one of her many prize-winning cats

The story of the feline wedding was covered extensively by newspapers across the country.

The Brooklyn Daily Times had tremendous fun with the tale, suggesting that the cats were married by the Reverend Thomas Meeyow at the Church of the Holy Cats; maids of honor were Miss Fluffy Milksop and Miss Silky Hairball; ushers were Thomas Yowler and Thomas Mouser; and the honeymoon was an extended tour of all the back fences between New York City and Niagara Falls.

The Jasper County Democrat (Missouri) also had fun, reporting that Don Dai “had purred the question” to the beautiful Quakeress.

The Birmingham News (Alabama) questioned whether the British cat would be strong enough to endure “the rough and tumble combat” with Yankee cats or if he would be able to avoid being crushed by a street car, and the Messenger-Inquirer (Kentucky) gave the story this headline: “More Idiotic Dealings by the Silly Rich.” 

The feline wedding took place in the Ballroom of the Plaza Hotel, pictured here in 1907. Museum of the City of New York
The feline wedding took place in the Ballroom of the Plaza Hotel, pictured here in 1907. Museum of the City of New York

A Brief History of the Plaza Hotel

The land bounded by Fifth and Sixth Avenues and 57th and 60th Streets was originally owned by the Corporation of New York (ie, the city itself). In 1854, the city subdivided this land into lots and began selling them off. The parcels transferred hands several times, but there was no serious attempt to develop the property until the 1880s.

In 1883, the property was acquired by James Campbell and John Duncan Phyfe, who proposed a nine-story apartment hotel for the site. Construction began in 1883, but there is no account of the building ever being completed.

Five years later, the New York Life Insurance Company acquired the property and hired McKim, Mead & White to complete the building as a hotel. The hotel had a fashionable address, albeit, the area was still quite remote in the late 19th century. The eight-story Renaissance-Revival building of brick and brownstone is pictured below.

Hotel Plaza, Fifth Avenue and 59th Street
The original hotel, labeled the Hotel Plaza on old maps, was described by the 1893 King’s Handbook of New York as “one of the most attractive public houses in the wide world.”

In 1902, Bernhard Beinecke and Harry S. Black purchased the hotel with plans of expanding it. Because the foundation could not support any additional stories, the men approached John Gates, one of the wealthiest men in the country at the time, to finance a new hotel.

Gates agreed to back the project with one caveat: Fred Sterry had to be the hotel’s managing director (yes, the Fred Sterry who allowed Pinky Panky Poo to stay at the new hotel in 1907).

Demolition of the old hotel began June 1905, with construction starting two months later. The new $12.5 million Plaza Hotel officially opened on October 1, 1907–Alfred Gwynne Vanderbilt was reportedly the first guest to sign the register.

Five years later, a feline wedding took place in the Grand Ballroom at the luxury hotel.

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Laborers working on the site in 1905 (this may have been the demolition phase). Museum of the City of New York
Plaza Hotel, 1923
There were still a few mansions on Fifth Avenue when this photo of the Plaza Hotel was taken in 1923. Museum of the City of New York.
Plaza Hotel, New York
The 18-story Plaza Hotel at Fifth Avenue and Central Park South opened its doors on October 1, 1907.

Cats About Town Walking Tours for NYC Cat Lovers
One of our most popular CAT walking tour explores the cats who left their pawprints on the history of Old Brooklyn Heights.
Our tour guide Marie Carter spotted this cat in the Grace Court Church gardens while giving a recent Brooklyn Heights walking tour.
Our tour guide Marie Carter spotted this cat in the Grace Court Church gardens while giving a recent Brooklyn Heights walking tour.

If you follow my Hatching Cat website, then you are no doubt a cat lover and possibly also someone who is interested in New York City history. So if you live in the New York City region or plan to visit sometime soon, you may be interested in seeing my cat tales come alive through my Cats About Town (CAT) historical walking tours of Brooklyn Heights and Manhattan.

We have just posted available tours for May through August, which include a few early-evening and Friday afternoon tours, plus a brand-new tour of the Lower East Side/Bowery. We also have two new tour guides: Jenny Pierson and Marie Carter.

Cats About Town Tours

Last summer, I partnered with Dan Rimada of Bodega Cats of New York to form a walking tour company for cat lovers. Within a few weeks, all of our tours had sold out!

Launching in August 2024, our first Cats About Town walking tour explored the catstory of Brooklyn Heights, uncovering the hidden stories of the legendary felines of America’s first suburban neighborhood. We have seen a few real cats on the Brooklyn tour, including a cat in the Grace Court Church gardens and a cat named Noir in a window on Willow Street.

Every guest of the Lower East Side/Bowery walking tour will get a neon cat-ear headband!
Every guest of the Lower East Side/Bowery walking tour will get a neon cat-ear headband!

In December 2024, we began offering our second tour, which explores the postal, newspaper, prison, and City Hall cats that made history in the Financial District during the late 1800s and early 1900s.

This year, I will be offering a new tour about the cats of the Bowery and the Lower East Side. There will be more than a dozen cat stories on this tour, all starting with the cats of McSorley’s Old Ale House.

Several LES/Bowery tours will take place from 5:30-7:00 p.m. in the summer months: every guest on these twilight walking tours will receive a cat-ear headband that lights up in neon colors!

Whether you’re a longtime New Yorker or a visitor to the city, the Cats About Town tour is an experience you won’t want to miss! For updates and more information, be sure to follow us on Instagram and visit our website by clicking the link below. Some tours are already sold out, so don’t wait to book a tour this spring or summer!

  • Ticket Prices: Adults $40, Seniors $30
  • Duration: About 2 hours
  • Distance: Approximately 1.5 miles (LES tour has an optional 2-mile tour)
  • Booking Information: Visit Cats About Town Tours for more details and to book your tour
  • First person to spot a live cat on every tour wins a ticket for a FREE future tour!