He’s Not Lost, He’s a Resident: Achilles the Cat, a Beloved Fixture of West 81st Street

Text and Photos by Daniel Krieger

If you’ve walked on West 81st Street between Amsterdam and Columbus in the last few years, you may have crossed paths with Achilles, a cat who hangs out in front of a townhouse all day long, calmly watching life go by. Unfazed by the city chaos around him, this nine-year-old, handsome Maine Coon mix is not among the estimated 500,000 street cats living in New York City. Achilles, who is easygoing and affectionate, has carved out a life for himself in which he enjoys the best of both worlds — he has a human who takes care of him and the freedom to spend his days al fresco, where, as a beloved fixture of the community, he has a large social network.

Achilles is so well known that when someone posted on Nextdoor last month that they had found a lost cat on 81st Street, a bunch of commenters explained that he is a resident. Some first-time passersby seem surprised when they encounter an outdoor cat on the Upper West Side (where strays are extremely rare). Some are curious, some smile, some try to rescue him, and some just can’t resist kneeling down or bending over and petting him.

On a recent afternoon, Achilles was sitting on the sidewalk next to the stoop as a young couple was having a tender moment with him. “We look for him when we are on the block,” said the woman, who lives in the neighborhood. “He’s so stoic,” said the man.

“He runs this block,” said a woman walking past with a young girl. Then three men stopped to greet and pet him. “He’s just enjoying life,” one of them said as they walked away. “I like his mellow vibe,” said another.

But later, a stranger went too far by abruptly picking him up. Achilles protested, loudly meowing, and when released he slunk downstairs to his basement dwelling, which he shares with his lifelong companion, Dorian, a plump gray cat who can’t stand being outside and spends his time downstairs.

The man who takes care of them, Bobby Mori, is the superintendent of the building. “Cats don’t have owners, they have staff,” he said when asked if he was Achilles’ owner, standing in front of the townhouse. “He’s not my cat. It’s more like I’m his human.”

Describing himself as “not a cat dude,” Mori said Achilles and Dorian, who are on Instagram, came in February, 2020, when a nearby super he was acquainted with asked him to take care of them temporarily, because the couple that had raised them had some sort of problem. But the temporary stay kept getting extended until Mori agreed to take them forever.

Now, with all of the connections Achilles has established, he is a cat of the community, said Mori, and interacts with dozens of people every day, from newcomers to friends. He also makes house calls to provide therapy cat sessions, especially to children and elderly folks, and to find where the mice are.

“He was chosen for this role,” Mori said of his lifestyle. “He does his job and leaves the rest to me.”

Achilles and Dorian, who Mori calls ‘domestic partners,’ spend the night confined to the basement where they have food, water and a litter box. It’s also a refuge for Achilles when he needs a break during the day. He can be so eager to socialize sometimes that if things are slow in front of the building, he will head down to the corner of Amsterdam to the edge of his world where there’s more action. But Mori brings him back since he can’t keep an eye on him down there.

At least once a day, someone calls the number on Achilles’ tag to report what they assume to be a lost cat. “I tell them, ‘thank you for reassuring my faith in humanity,’” Mori said.

There have been few problems with this arrangement. But once, shortly after he arrived, Achilles crossed the street and didn’t come home, spending the cold night outside in a backyard. Mori was beside himself with worry. He found Achilles the next day and the cat hasn’t gone into the street since. On another occasion, a man unsuccessfully tried to kidnap him. But most days are far less eventful.

“It was as if the universe commanded it,” Mori said of how Achilles showed up three-and-a-half years ago and adopted his semi-independent lifestyle. “It’s like it was meant for him to be out on the street.”