Please don't tell Angelmiao but I had great fun with the cats of St. John's Island yesterday. The island has a sizeable but not overwhelming population of strays that probably originated from the Malay dwellings that still exist there. As we ascended the hill towards the Tropical Marine Science Institute, a brown kitten popped up from the dry drain beside the path, staring and then slinking back into its protective passage. Further up, adult cats of all shades and stripes came noisily at us. They were slim but healthy. Some rolled over for a belly rub. A little tabby seemed to smile and melted into a limp bundle as I picked her up. A jet black individual slinked by and fussed. Is she the mother of this pair, boundering near the jetty? On this little isle of fruiting figs and fragrant trees, they enjoy a life of leisure and glorious isolation from the tribulations of their mainland cousins.
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