It was an ordinary day. Fourth or fifth day of vacation in paradise. We are occupying the second floor in a condo in the Caribbean Princess Hotel along Orient Beach on the island of St. Martin. As we sit, eating a breakfast of mango juice and French croissants, we hear this soft, familiar sound. "Sounds like Creamsicle," Carol says to me. "I think it's coming from the front door," I replied to her. We unlocked the front door, opened it, and there stood one of the most pathetic little cats we had ever seen. Then as we stood looking at the cat, two more appeared from around the curved stairwell. For years, while visiting on the island, we would feed the sugar birds, but we never had any cats make visits to our villa high above Orient Bay on the hill overlooking the beach. Seems no matter where we go we attract the local homeless animals. Not sure if it is our scent or the compassion that we have for those poor creatures that have no home and many times no food or fresh water that draw them to us.
We cut up some lunch meat we had in the fridge, put it in a few dishes and opened the door once more to feed it to the homeless felines. Then the meowing started. Almost deafening! They couldn't believe their good luck. Well, we made a trip to the local Super Grande Marche for a small bag and a really big bag of cat food. The small bag is for the half dozen hungry cats that now call condo A-2 home during our stay while the really big bag is for delivery to our friend and island native, Geraldine, who takes in any stray cat or dog that wanders to her small rum store at beautiful Paradise View, a five minute drive from our condo. I know some think it is terrible to feed the strays, but we just can't bear to see them starve to death, for they are one of God's creatures just as we are. Are they not? It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.
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