The cats of Manabeshima
As I mentioned, we came to the island of Manabeshima for the cats. While the island wasn’t as overrun as I had imagined from the phrase “cat island,” we were not disappointed.
The island is essentially a fishing village, so while the cats are tattered, they seem fairly well-fed (presumably on fish scraps). Still, they clearly expected us to feed them, and we had not planned far enough in advance to bring cat food. What to do?
We visited both of the island’s convenience stores (manned by surprisingly grumpy ladies, given how friendly literally everyone else on the island was), but alas! neither had cat food. In desperation, we bought some fish sausage, figuring fish couldn’t be bad for the cats.
We took the sausage to the docks, where the cats congregate. As we opened it, a woman appeared (from where, we couldn’t tell) with a giant bag of cat food in hand. Don’t give them that! If you want to feed the cats, give them this! And we did, very happily. (The cats seemed mighty pleased, too.)
Halfway through the bag, the cats showed no sign of slowing their eating, but we started to feel guilty about using up so much cat food. But when we looked for our mysterious savior to return the remaining food, she had vanished.
The trusty ferry booth guy came to our aid again. As soon as we mentioned that we were looking for the lady with the cat food, he pointed us to the neighboring house. Sure enough, we found her — amidst a collection of cat tchotchkes, books, and postcards. She seemed to be the island’s keeper of cats and seller of cat souvenirs.
What a noble calling.
