Fur Flies at Cat’s Ouster : After Allergy Sufferer Complains, Roscoe Is Banned From Roaming Through Redondo Beach City Hall

There is one less fat cat at Redondo Beach City Hall.

Roscoe, a gray-and-white feline with strong political connections in Redondo Beach, has been ousted from the offices he has considered home for more than a decade.

The cat, renowned for breaking up tense council meetings with a well-timed meow, was banned from City Hall about three weeks ago, after the newly hired risk manager, Eugene Cornelius, had a severe allergic reaction to him.

“I got really deathly ill,” Cornelius said. “My eyes blew up. My face got swollen. I looked like a disaster.”

City officials didn’t have the heart to evict Roscoe outright. While a group of employees look for someone to adopt the cat, the city is allowing him to sleep in his usual place: the City Hall computer room, which is equipped with Roscoe’s cat house, his litter box and bowls for his food and water.

But otherwise, City Hall will be off limits to Roscoe, who according to city lore is a reincarnated former mayor. No longer will he be allowed to saunter down the aisles at council meetings, curl up on chairs in staffers’ offices or rub up against the legs of entrepreneurs applying for business licenses.

“It just got to the point where it wasn’t making sense anymore,” said Assistant City Manager Ken Simmons. “It wasn’t solvable to confine him to certain rooms, because when a cat passes a room, it leaves hairs or dander that can cause reactions in allergic people.”

Yet the fur is flying over Roscoe’s ouster. At least one council member is demanding that Roscoe be reinstated as the city’s First Feline. The cat has been a daytime fixture in City Hall since the late 1970s. He began spending nights there two years ago, when his owners, who lived in a house nearby, moved away without him.

“We ought to throw (Simmons and Cornelius) out and keep the cat--he probably does more for mediating disputes at City Hall than either one of those two ever have,” Councilman Stevan Colin said.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the City Council doesn’t take some action to order the cat back in,” Colin added. “If they don’t change the policy, you’re going to see it on the agenda. If we have to balance the interest of the cat (against) two complainers and whiners, the interest of the cat may outweigh theirs.”

Roscoe’s tenure in the city, however, has not been trouble-free.

There is, for instance, the flea problem. About nine months ago, Simmons had to spread flea powder throughout his office to staunch an infestation. “I’ve never let him in again,” he said.

Roscoe also has a penchant for depositing fetid “calling cards,” usually in employees’ chairs. It happened in 1983 to City Clerk John L. Oliver, who is convinced Roscoe was seeking revenge against him for having earlier shooed him out of his office.

“I came in one Monday morning and Roscoe had pooped in my chair,” Oliver said. “It was sort of a thing with him. Certain people he didn’t like, he would poop in their chairs.”

Roscoe is also known for chasing dogs whose owners had brought them in for licenses. And, Oliver says, the cat is an adept bird-hunter.

“One time, he had a bird trapped up against the window there between the clerk’s and the treasurer’s office,” Oliver said. “We had to separate Roscoe and the bird. And there was another incident when another cat got into City Hall. I mean to tell you, Roscoe took after him. We thought he was going to kill that cat.

“It was very clear,” he added, “that City Hall belongs to Roscoe.”

What sealed Roscoe’s fate, Simmons said, was Cornelius’ allergy attack. Since then, a longtime employee who blames the cat for giving her watery eyes and a runny nose for the past eight years is preparing to file a worker’s compensation claim against the city, Cornelius said.

She and other allergy sufferers weren’t willing to come forward earlier, Simmons and Cornelius said, out of fear of a backlash by Roscoe’s supporters.

“There’s a lot of people who were afraid to say something because Roscoe has a lot of followers, a lot of political connections,” Cornelius said.

Agreed Simmons: “It’s a sensitive issue. You have a lot of pet-lovers. And the cat has been around a long time.”

In fact, when news got out that Roscoe was being barred from City Hall because of Cornelius’ allergies, some employees taunted Cornelius, calling him a wimp, Simmons said.

“It just becomes hallway talk, but the anger this has created was out of bounds,” Simmons said.

Cornelius, who has gone through almost two boxes of tissues in the two months since he was hired by the city, was surprised by some of his colleagues’ reactions.

“One person completely stopped talking to me,” Cornelius said. “I became the bad guy. . . . They want to tag me ‘Roscoe killer,’ saying I made him homeless. . . . But I wasn’t asking to have him put out. I just wanted to restrict his areas.”

Later, however, Cornelius conceded that even if he didn’t have allergies, he would have recommended against allowing Roscoe at City Hall because of the potential liability that the animal’s presence creates for the city.

“God forbid there was a death from an allergic reaction,” Cornelius said. “I would have had to get rid of Roscoe, no matter how much compassion I feel for him.”

Heartbroken Roscoe supporters, who point out their beloved cat is old enough in cat years to qualify as a senior citizen, nevertheless hope city officials will reconsider.

“None of us want the people allergic to him to have any problems,” said Eleanor Steger, administrative supervisor in the licensing department, who has helped care for Roscoe for years. “But we feel bad for what’s happening to Roscoe.” Councilwoman Marilyn White called Roscoe’s ouster “cruel and unusual punishment.” She said she will miss the calming influence he provides during council meetings and the way his presence tends to “put things in the proper perspective.”

“I just think he brings a nice atmosphere,” White said. “We’re going to lose something very important if he goes. We can get too sophisticated, where you push off the little kindnesses that make (the city) nice.”