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Spellen of Troy

10/3/2018 6 Comments

A Cat's Life: A Full-Grown Batasaur

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He was not your usual black cat. They are usually the stuff of Halloween decorations – of medium size, sleek and lean, with long thin tails. This cat was large and fluffy, technically still a short-hair, but with thick black fur with brown undertones. Brushing him often yielded enough fur for another cat, with an endless supply in store. He had a large skull, big yellow eyes and a slightly flattened face and nose, no doubt the result of unknown Persian ancestors. His paws were as oversized as his head, and his tail was a long fat triangle; broad at the base and tapering down to a paintbrush of fur.

He was from Ohio, Oberlin to be exact. He was rescued in town by a student at the Oberlin School of Music. The singer named him L’il Bat, after a character in the opera Susanna. He must have been the cutest little fluffy black kitten. When bass-baritone Daniel Okulitch moved to NYC several years later, with his cats, he was singing the role of Schaunard in Baz Luhrmann’s Broadway production of La Boheme. This was the beginning of a very successful opera career, with touring and appearances across the country and in his native Canada.

​This is where I come in.
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I was still singing at the time and was an avid reader of an opera chatroom called the Opera Forum. In addition to chats about various aspects of singing, readers could also ask for help or services. Daniel was looking for a cat-sitter. I had just lost one of my two cats, and Mookie, the surviving one, was depressed. I thought temporarily having two more cats around would cheer him up and help him get over losing his buddy Felix. Plus, the guy was paying. I offered to take them.
PictureDaniel Okulitch, bass-baritone
 Daniel came over to Brooklyn to meet me, look at his cats’ potential new home. Despite my wreck of a house, he offered me the kitties. He would pay me for room and board, and his cats would be safe and pampered. Daniel fully expected to come home from his tour and take them back. He brought them over and introduced them to their new world.

I will always remember that moment. Both cats were in a soft carrier that Daniel had taken on the subway. He unzipped the top, and two heads popped up, a big black one and a large orange one. Both cats leaped out of the carrier and hid under the couch where they remained for the rest of his visit. We chatted for a bit, talked about cats, opera and renovating houses, and then Daniel got ready to leave. He reached behind the couch to give Lucky and Bat a last pat and scratch and say goodbye, and Lucky promptly bit him. “Take that, abandoning Dad!”
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Lucky, Bat and Mookie never got along all that well, but they did learn how to co-exist. When Daniel came back from his tour, he came to visit. Lucky had chilled by then, and affectionately stuck his face in Daniel’s armpit, his favorite place on people he liked. Daniel was becoming quite the young opera superstar and had been booked for more tours. He couldn’t afford to keep paying me to take care of them, but that was ok, by that time, I had fallen in love with both cats. When he asked me if I wanted to keep them, I was overjoyed. (Daniel Okulitch is now one of opera’s finest bass-baritones, with an international career – Bat and Lucky’s Dad did good!)

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Bat and Lucky
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Bat and Lucky were inseparable. Mookie was elderly when they came into our lives and died a few years later. He was a wonderful cat, the first one I had in my adult life, and my first Brooklyn kitty. He lived to be around 18, which made him an old man in cat years. Other cats came into the house. Literally. Two walked in the kitchen window, looked around, and decided to stay. One was pregnant and gave birth shortly after, and the other brought what I thought was a mouse in her mouth to me one day. It was her kitten. I had become an instant Crazy Cat Lady.
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Bat loved the new kittens. I have lots of pictures of him with the tiny kitlets curled up on or next to him. Throughout his and their lives, he was always a cat that other cats snuggled with. He was patient and kind, and never swatted at them. He was a very chill soul in all ways. Even after Lucky died about eight years later. Which is not to say he didn’t have his ways. He was the poster child of passive-aggressive behavior.
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Where many cats will demand affection by head butting you, or rubbing against you, or leaping into your lap, Bat would sit in front of you and stare at you. If you didn’t pet him, he would very calmly extend a claw and stick you. *Jab* We called it “giving you the Claw.” Getting the Claw was painful, and it kept you alert. I often would be involved in working and not notice that he was sitting there. *Jab* If that didn’t get your attention in a few seconds, he calmly repeated it. *Jab* If you were eating at the table and he was there. *Jab* He usually got petted after that.
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But if you stopped for some reason, and he still wanted to be petted – you got the Claw. If you were watching tv and you didn’t notice him there on the floor, *Jab*! That guaranteed a lap for as long as he wanted one. He terrorized me and my neighbor Deb, who often came down to my apartment to watch TV with me. He preferred her lap to mine, but then would sleep on top of my chest all night. No Claw then, just contented purring.
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Bat was a big cat, with the largest skull and paws of any of my cats. He was the king of his domain, so I started calling him Batasaurus Rex, the King of the Batasaurs. It’s silly, as are most cat nicknames, but it stuck, and I always called him the Batasaur. Both he and Lucky used to go outside in my backyard in Brooklyn. Lucky always hung out in the yard, but Bat would disappear. My neighbors had plenty of nights where they could hear me outside calling for the Bat at 2 in the morning. Sometimes he came, sometimes he didn’t.  
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Mr. Passive-Aggressive would sit on the fence, or in a tree and watch me call him. Sometimes I could see him, or the reflection of his eyes. But he wouldn’t move. And if I went to get him, he’d run into a neighbor’s property. He spent a couple of nights outside all night. The last night he did that he came home with a large tear in the loose fur under his belly, by his leg. I rushed him to the emergency vet in Carroll Gardens.
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​Unfortunately, they had two days of bad emergencies, and couldn’t get to him, but fortunately, he was in no real danger. The tear was only in skin, not muscle. They kept him, made sure his wound wasn’t getting infected, and sewed him up two days later. When I came to get him, the doctors and staff had to come and tell me what a handsome gentleman he was, and how much they would miss him. He had charmed them all. They charged me a reduced rate because boarding him was their call, but I still got a bill for over a thousand dollars. The Bat never went outside again. The Batasaur was not happy. Neither was I.
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Bat being a drama queen after finding out he couldn't go out anymore.

I went though some tough times in Brooklyn after 2007. I was depressed over losing my job and not being able to find another – in any industry. I was writing non-stop, building my reputation as a writer about all things historic in Brooklyn, but I wasn’t making enough money. I was going to lose my house. My tenant and friend Deb and I decided to move to Troy. We found a house and I became the tenant. Moving day for the cats was epic. Both of us had many cats, and they went upstate in two trips in a U-Haul van. There was a lot of howling.
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But we managed, and we built a home. The Batasaur took over his kingdom and reigned for many years. His best friend was P-Boy, who had been the tiny kitten carried into the house by his mother those many years ago. P-Boy and Bat were often the only cats people saw when they came over, as most of my cats are very shy around strangers. The Bat would always be out, inspecting all visitors. Some of them got the Claw, if they stayed long enough.
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Bat and P-Boy
I knew the Batasaur was getting old. His fur began getting white hairs on his chest and paws - salt and pepper, like me. He started to slow down, and he stopped jumping up on everything. He still wanted to get up there, though, and figured out elaborate trails to get him from the floor, to a box, or a chair, or a windowsill, and then onto the table or my bed. His favorite place was sitting on top of my right arm as I used my mouse. He would be perturbed if I pulled my hand out to type. Sometimes I couldn’t get anything done, and I’d have to put him on the floor. That usually meant I got the Claw. He would eventually settle in right next to my arm. The Great Compromise.
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The vet diagnosed him with a thyroid deficiency, and for the last year of his life, I had to give him a small pill twice a day. Of all the cats I’ve ever tried to medicate, he was the best. He would never run, he let me pick him up by the scruff and pop the pill in his mouth, and he always got treats afterwards. Soon, the rest of my cats figured out the treats part, and so Bat’s medication was Treat Time for all of them.  Cats are opportunists.
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In the last few months, he slowed down even more. He started to lose weight, and he stopped grooming his stomach. His fur started to clump up, and Deb and I brushed him often to try to get rid of the clumps on his side and back. You couldn’t touch his stomach, he wasn’t having it. The vet said not to worry, the clumps weren’t hurting him or pulling on his skin. His weight stabilized with his medication, but he wasn’t as sleek and filled out as before.
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He couldn’t jump up on the bed anymore, but could pull himself up with his claws, like a rock climber. Once, my arm was too close to the edge of the bed when he latched on to pull himself up. That was incredibly painful!! Took a long time to heal, too. I looked like a victim of cat abuse. I began making sure he was on the bed before I got in, and he usually stayed there all night. I started picking him up whenever he wanted to climb somewhere. I knew it was only a matter of time. I’ve seen the signs before. The Mighty Batasaur was in his twilight. He was an old man.
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Bat and P-Boy, Summer 2018
​He went to the vet several times in the last few months because I was concerned about him, but even on his last vet visit, everything was fine. They ran bloodwork, and all was well, even though his breath was becoming a bit labored. The vet couldn’t hear anything with her stethoscope because he was purring too loud. “He’s old,” she said, “Just take care of him.” I took him home and he died two days later. He walked into the living room, had a heart attack and died in a couple of minutes. It was quick, I was holding him, and he was gone. Looking back, he was probably 19 or 20 years old. He died about a month ago, but it’s been hard to write about him.
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​The funny thing is that I still see him. Deb has seen him too. A couple of times. He’s in our peripheral vision, passing to our side on his way somewhere. He passes through when we are watching television. Sometimes one of my other cats, none of whom really match him in body type or coloration, look like him as they run up the hallway towards me. It’s only when they get close that I see it’s not Bat.

​I’ve had cats that I’ve loved very much, and mourned tremendously, but none of them came back. The Batasaur is a ghost cat. He watches over us. Maybe he’ll move on, when he’s ready, but right now he’s here, and I have no problem with that. Batasaurus Rex always got what he wanted.
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6 Comments
Nokilissa
10/3/2018 11:36:23 am

Bestest cat story I have ever read. May the mighty Batasaurus continue you to watch over you and Deb. I love you both!

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Char
10/3/2018 04:38:20 pm

I’m so sorry you lost Bat, our fur babies are more “family” than our blood relatives. My 20 year old mese passed a few years ago, she also stayed with me for the longest time. Grateful to be so loved. Hugs to you and Deb.

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Deirdre Gaskin
3/30/2019 11:40:00 am

Hi Suzanne, I am Celeste's sister - also a cat lover. I have a black and white domestic who is 8 years old, now. He's a rescue cut that I chose 6 1/2 years ago. He had been waiting for adoption over a year because he has feline aids and people were afraid even though they were told that the disease is not transmitted to humans they did not want to adopt him. When I was told this my heart softened immediately. But, after I saw him it was as though I was transfixed and could not look at any of the rest of the cats. I took him home right then and he immediately began to get comfortable. No hidding and having to be coaxed out. I named him "Happy" because I'd needed to adopt a pet for a very long time and I knew I would do everything humanly possible for him to live up to him name, and then some. He's been sick and hospitalized once with a condition in which he was unable to urinate. They kept him 4 days administering IV fluids and medication. I'm happy to say he has been fine, even super, ever since. He asks to go outside several times a day but I avoid letting him out at night. He'll stay for about 15 - 20 minutes and comes back in. He knows not to go across the street and confines himself to ambling around the sub-division. Everybody loves Happy and always ask about him.
Btw, I know exactly what you mean by some of the cat behaviors. When he wants to be petted he simply sits in front of me, staring me down. When I am watching tv in my bedroom he'll be resting on my bed. If he wants attention, he reaches over and gives me the claw. It was really surprised the first time he ever did that. Cats certainly make their needs and desires known.

Years ago I had two cats Tiger and Wendy. Tiger was very loving and more dependent. Wendy was not. While I was hospitalized for several weeks I had friends and Celeste come in and take care of them. Celeste went to feed them on a Thursday. She told me that Tiger was extremely sad and filled with grief. I was discharged to my home on Saturday (the same week) and he had died. My sister and I agree that he died of grief. I thought I was going to go along with him because it was so painful. Wendy, during my absence, turned feral and would never make an appearance when my sister went over there. I ended up having her taken away because I couldn't do anything with her. It was an extremely sad time.

Anyway, all is well now. I want you to know that your writing about your cat experiences filled my heart with love and appreciation for Happy but especially for Zoe who has passed on. I loved Zoe very much. I visited my sister and spent time with Zoe days before she had to be put down. I've been deeply sad, but when I saw Celeste's pictures it brought on the tears that were waiting to be shed. Losing a pet is just as painful as losing a family member. After all, he/she has been a family member all those years. Their departure creates an unbearable void that takes a long time to heal.

Thank you for reading this. I started out by telling my story so that you could understand why I've written to you. Celeste told me that you are a writer and that is remarkably evident. Thank you for so openly sharing your cat photos and your thoughtful kindness to my dear sister. I'm so grateful to have had her share it all with me.

Blessings and peace,

Deirdre Gaskin

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kathi link
6/20/2020 07:46:41 am

Greetings Suzanne.. my name is KATHI KOSMIDER (kos)... i emailed you a few years ago... asking you about TROY. I lived in the city, old rent stabilized closet... but i ended up leaving the country in the mid 90s, as i couldn't accept the insanity here... couldn't pay my rent, and wanted to see if there were other gov. that didn't destroy their people as this country did... with racist institutional systems that seemed to never end / change, etc. I also want to GIVE BACK (teach? guidance counselor?) but then and still i don't have the resources to get the degrees, etc. So we try to move in other directions... I am now working with old folks, to pay the rent.. here and in germany. I ended up in various countries... but berlin i found a cheap place to live where i could write. I still haven't finished my sci-fi ww2 book, but i have been able to "survive" BETTER than in nyc, simply because i have TIME to think and not be tortured by the non stop worry of existence!! bills, and an infinite array of issues that the system creates to never allow growth. I've sublet my place, not made any money, just to keep my place going. I've been back since 2019, to help my bi polar brother in JAMAICA QUEENS where we grew up. LONG STORY SHORT... I was always a great fan and admirer of your work, the BROWNSTONER, etc.. and couldn't find you in that venue anymore? I know you are in TROY but I know you still write about BROOKLYN and TROY, upstate, etc. I am only now catching up and was curious to see how you and TROY are doing.

I sent you positive energy and hope you are thriving !!
I still dream of finding an old place upstate... starting a small animal shelter / that is united with a BROOKLYN shelter.. so there is land and money / support, also a vegan tiny 1930s type diner...lots of ideas STILL NO MONEY... problem. But we keep on! I spend almost everyday that I don't work, in BROOKLYN.. as my west village tiny existence is non existent.. no community, just a bunch of yuppy stock brokers... and all about all of them went to mommy and daddy in conn, i guess during this Virus... But Brooklyn still rises... i just worry about this horror of SKY SCRAPERS (greenpoint!! shocked and shocked 100 times when i go there.. to see these tiny little streets i love surrounded by the fortress of hi rise monstrosities) and then the area
near BAM.. and all those SKY SCRAPERS.. i walk there late at night... like a graveyard... of people scared to go outside... all individual cans of existence.

My main worry with BROOKLYN is DITMAS park, i walk to CORTELYOU and then the street leaving to brighten beach (i think CONEY IS AVE)
i have begun seeing a tiny bit of these HIGH HIGH BUILDING.. and i'm worried...) how are they allowed to do this?

One merchant told me they want to TEAR DOWN ALL OF CONEY ISLAND AV AND MAKE THIS SKY SCRAPERS.. ??????? dear god dear god.

I am stuck here til about september... until I figure out what to do with my situation. But I must go back to germany.. before the october time..
and go back and forth... for a while...
but I have to come upstate to get my drivers license... and i have a good 72 yr old comrade photographer and we will be making some
exploration journées... to GLOVERSVILLE, TROY and NEWARK? and various places in that vicinity... Maybe you have some tips, in exploring TROY.?
or other old cities / towns with curious buildings, etc...
A coffee shop ? Maybe we can buy you a coffee? I am a big fan from all the work you did... from your BROOKLYN years.. and I read your
Troy postings with great admiration and awe!! I'm still trying to catch up... but I am wishing you well and praying for a transformational summer upstate and down here and everywhere!!

I've been going to the protests... as I am an OLD ACT UP person in the 80s... I've seen it all.. But the police violence in the first 2 weeks of protests was horrific. And yet the young 20 something are resolute... This won't change in a few weeks, months or years.. but I think the population GETS IT... I will never forget in 2008 time writing a piece on the verdict of the AMADOU DIALLO nightmare... still.. the horror continues... But the youth are FIERCE, powerful black women voices, with a lOVE and almost ZEN-LIKE stature... this is the america i see... praying praying..

Again, please excuse the intrusion..I am sure you are busy with your work and TROY and LIFE and i'm wishing you well..
I would love to follow your work.. I'm not so great with social media... (still LEARNING instagram!!) but any other
places to read / follow your work I would love to know.. and support !!

Much respect and light and summer solstice energy for illumination and kindness.

kathi k.

Reply
Pat
10/17/2020 11:39:51 am

Kathi, this is Pat Beaupre. been searching for you online... Love to reconnect. Still in California, no longer in SF. patbeaupre@yahoo.com

Reply
KATHI KOSMIDER
1/22/2021 01:24:11 pm

Hi Suzanne.. this is kathi k. again. i emailed you last year when
i was running back and forth helping an old lady
in NYC and Germany. I'm back in NY, and still in my apartment working for
that same old lady in manhattan, while I explore TROY, AND upstate.
I wanted to see if i can find a place upstate and just do the manhattan
during the week and upstate for weekends... as I am pretty committed
to staying in NY now.. after dealing with Germany. I love Germany
but I have too many responsibilities with my brother in new york.
Do you ever give any talks or tours or advice on TROY and the surrounding
area? Just thought to ask again. Hope all is well and hope things
will calm down with the COVID... sometime soon. Take care kk

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    My name is Suzanne Spellen. I've been many things: a writer, historian, preservationist, musician, traveler, designer, sewer, teacher, and tour guide; a long time Brooklynite and now, a proud resident of Troy, NY.

    Life doesn't always turn out the way you planned it, but if you embrace the journey, you may find that you are always where you are supposed to be. 

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