For the past 2 days, Lolo and I have been (for lack of a better word) obsessed with Cat Island. Upon first hearing these two simple words paired together, a spectrum of ideas danced through my head. Cat Island cut the leash to my imagination. Are they savage? Do they eat all who venture onto Cat Island? Or are they sympathetic and take prisoners? Is there a king cat? A catocracy? A cat-tail-rianism? A cat-unism? What do they eat? How did they get on the island? Do they every get bored of the easy-going island life? Are there other islands, like Dog Island, Possum Island? What kind of umbrella drinks do they sip each day?
We first heard of The Isle of Cat from our roomate, Alonso. Apparently, two cats had fallen from Puente de Palma (a bridge 20/30 meters high) to an island below. They survived, and people gradually started throwing them food. The cats had babies, the babies had babies, and the cat population skyrocketed. Cat Island was born.
But Alonso said it was just an urban legend, and had no idea where it could be. So Lolo and I went out exploring one night and, as fate would have it, instantly found the mythical land. In the light the next day, we saw Cat Island in all of its glory. I counted at least 30 cats sunning themselves on the rocks. White cats, black cats, dirty, Persian, Siamese -- it was a veritable cat Zoo. The had all the food they needed, surrounded by loaves of bread and opened cans of tuna. I have seen many strange things here in Spain, but I think that this might beat them all. As we reluctantly left, I felt that some of my questions had been answered. But, in their place, sprang a thousand new doubts. The Isle of Cat has only served to heighten my sense of mystery and exploration. Everything now carries the cat tinge, a mixture of pure ridiculousness, laughter, and absurdity.
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