A ginger tabby named Council has captured the imagination of three city blocks
BROOKLYN – A ginger tabby who has lived atop the same bodega deli counter for six years has become the unlikely frontrunner in a wholly unofficial neighborhood mayoral straw poll, outperforming every actual declared candidate among regulars polled over the past two weeks near the corner of Nostrand and Fulton.
The cat, named Council by the bodega’s owner for reasons nobody quite remembers, has occupied the same sunny spot beside the register for years, greeting customers with what regulars describe as “consistent, dignified indifference,” a quality several neighborhood residents say they now find more reassuring than anything coming out of an actual campaign mailer. “I trust Council more than I trust half these politicians,” said longtime customer Odalys Ferreira, who initiated the informal poll as a joke on a community message board that has since drawn over eleven hundred votes. “He’s been here every single day for six years. He’s never once made a promise he didn’t keep, mostly because he’s never made any promises at all, which honestly might be the secret.”
A Campaign With No Campaign
Bodega owner Wilson Nunez, who has fielded a steady stream of customers asking to pet, photograph, or otherwise pay tribute to his cat since the poll went viral locally, says he never intended for Council to become a political symbol. “He just sits there,” Nunez said, gesturing toward the counter where Council was, at the time of the interview, asleep in a patch of sunlight. “People started calling him mayor as a joke maybe two years ago. Now strangers come in specifically to vote for him on their phones. I sell more coffee because of it, so I’m not complaining, but it’s a strange thing to watch happen to your cat.”
The unofficial poll, run entirely through the neighborhood message board with no formal oversight, currently shows Council with a commanding lead over all three declared candidates for the area’s community board seat, a result organizers admit says less about the cat’s qualifications and more about widespread apathy toward the actual race. “Nobody thinks Council can literally hold office,” Ferreira said. “It’s satire, obviously. But it’s also kind of a real message. People are tired of empty promises. At least Council’s indifference is honest.”
What the Numbers Really Mean
Ferreira, reviewing the final tally before the poll’s informal close, said Council finished with nearly triple the votes of the closest human candidate, a result she readily admits reflects protest sentiment more than genuine belief in feline governance. “Nobody thinks a cat can pass a budget,” she said. “But the fact that this many people took ten seconds to click a cat’s name instead of a real candidate’s says something about how disengaged this block has become from actual local politics, and maybe that’s worth someone in office actually paying attention to.”
Nunez said he’s fielded at least one call from a local reporter asking whether Council might make a guest appearance at an upcoming community board meeting, a request he declined on the grounds that “he’s a cat, he doesn’t really do public appearances outside the bodega, and honestly, neither do I most days.”
Real Candidates React
Reached for comment, one of the actual community board candidates, speaking on condition of anonymity to avoid further embarrassment, said he found the poll “genuinely demoralizing” but also, grudgingly, “kind of funny.” Another candidate leaned into the bit entirely, stopping by the bodega personally to be photographed alongside Council in what her campaign later posted online with the caption “endorsed by the real mayor of Nostrand Avenue,” a move Ferreira called “honestly the smartest thing any of them has done this whole race.”
Nunez says he’s had to install a small donation jar near the register after customers kept asking how they could support “the campaign,” proceeds from which he now donates to a local animal shelter, a compromise he says keeps everyone happy without requiring him to actually manage a political operation on his cat’s behalf.
What Council Actually Does All Day
By most accounts, Council’s daily agenda consists of sleeping, accepting treats, and occasionally supervising deliveries from atop a stack of paper towels, a routine several regulars have taken to documenting in a shared photo album that now numbers in the hundreds of images. “He’s very committed to his schedule,” Nunez said. “Sleep by the window in the morning, sleep by the register in the afternoon, brief patrol of the chip aisle around dinner. Very consistent policy platform, if you want to call it that.”
Coverage of the district’s actual community board race, including candidate platforms and voting logistics, has been tracked by outlets including The New York Daily News, none of which have yet acknowledged the bodega cat’s commanding informal lead.
An Ending Without a Real Election
Ferreira says the poll will close informally whenever interest naturally fades, with no actual prize or consequence attached beyond neighborhood bragging rights. “Council’s not going to be sworn in anywhere,” she said. “But for two weeks, this block cared more about local politics than it has in years, and a cat did that. I think that says something, even if I’m not totally sure what.”
Continuing coverage of the campaign, official and otherwise, is tracked at bohiney.com.
Further dispatches from the humor desk: Reductress.
SOURCE: https://bohiney.com