Stray Cat Boarding House

In true Thai style, our building has adopted two cats, a big ugly tom called, appropriately, Tom, and a skinny female called Pinky. At least, they are the names given to them by the owner of the development, a bubbly middle-aged American who dresses every day in one of an assortment of floaty floral shirts and co-ordinated trousers. Good-intentioned Buddhists often 'adopt' stray dogs or cats, leaving food out for them and petting them but unfortunately that only deepens the problem by allowing the stray population to grow. The stray animal population in Thailand is massive - millions of dogs and cats endure a miserable life on the streets, scavenging and often fighting for food. Many of them end up diseased, with open sores and extreme hair loss, or they are hit by motorbikes or pick-up trucks and die slowly and painfully from untreated injuries.

Luckily for Pinky and Tom, Jill has stuck by them for years, feeding them regularly and playing with them in her little office on the ground floor of our apartment block. She has had them both neutered so that they won't breed and contribute to the growing population of strays and they now live at Butterfly Garden pretty much permanently. Tom, however, does have a habit of wandering off for days at a time, only to come back covered with scratches and bite marks. He acts all macho and tough but, if his injuries are anything to go by, seems to be a terrible fighter. Then again, maybe he's thinking, "you should see the other tom!". Pinky is a permanent fixture and can often be found sleeping on the roof of one of the cars in the car park. As soon as she sees us, she stretches out onto her back, paws in the air, ready for a stroke. She also enjoys playing with bikini strap tops, as I found to my detriment one sunny day by the pool. I was lying on my front, straps untied and dangling down, when Pinky came meandering along, hiding in the shade under my lounger. Spying one of the bright red straps, swaying gently in the breeze, she pounced and began pawing one of the straps, obviously thinking it was a great game, before attempting to by walk off with it her mouth. I grabbed it from her just before I became known as 'that flasher from England' and she slunk off underneath the lounger again, indignant that her game had been curtailed. She then immediately noticed the strap on the other side and jumped at it, biting down on it, walking away and then pinging it back at me, as if as a punishment for ruining her fun.

Cats may be cute but they can be little terrors.