While running around the Harbour Island shops and restaurants, Deon and I were followed by a team of cats, and no, we were not hallucinating or grossly intoxicated. The cats and dogs, as well as chickens, are basically running stray on the island, and poorly cared for by the locals. They lurk around restaurants in every little corner looking for you to drop a french fry or chunk of meat, and their little bones are almost transparent, so obviously, you know where this is going. At first I was buying cans of tuna at the Piggly Wiggly market and pouring them over dry Purina cat chow, but they got used to the dry chow and I would leave little piles all over town for them. The only mistake on this was leaving the bag of cat chow in the back of the golf cart overnight to find little paw prints all over the seat and the bag of chow gone the next morning. So, my cat chow (yes, and dog chow too) went with us all over Briland, and I quickly was referred to as Cat Lady which I guess is a bit more lovely than Dog Lady. Upon leaving Briland, I entrusted an older toothless Bahamian lady with the food to continue to care for the dogs and cats. I think my justification for going back to Harbour Island each year will include the care of these precious little furry animals.
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