I hardened my heart, having no intention whatsoever to taken in an animal and then worry about it while I was traveling around Tonga and the Pacific. Thus "Cat," the only name I allowed it, remained an outdoor animal was a fairly sad life. Cat displayed no survival instincts whatsoever, despite being surrounded by birds, chickens, geckos, and even lagoon fish that swim right at the surface. the puppies (seven of them) were initially scared and surrendered their food, until the realized the worse Cat would ever do was hiss while they took food from it. And they were quick to figure out how to get up to any high locale where the cat took its food.
That was in March. Fast-forward eight months. Cat is skinny, but apparently now skilled enough to catch slow and defenseless geckos. And today, the friends of the owner arrived to discuss something else with the landlord. They saw Cat, who I know now had been an indoor Persian long hair cat from New Zealand, the product of generations of breeding that had left it with no knowledge or skill about how to stop a month old puppy from taking its sheep ribs. Cat's Tongan adventure has ended, he/she is on to a better life, where it can be fat and happy. The gecko population can thrive once again.
Cat, able to enjoy a sunny nap with a puppy that will become its nemesis when the supper leftovers are tossed out.
