fairly regularly before it got too developed, there was an orange cat that we called LaLa (a brand of milk down there) until we found out that his real name was Buddha. We usually had a ground floor room with a porch that we stepped right on to the beach from. When we came home from dinner, Buddha was almost always laying on our porch right in front of the door. As soon as we opened the door, Buddha sprinted to the bed and laid down right in the middle. If we opened the fridge to get something to drink or put a “doggy” bag in the fridge, Buddha was right there at the fridge. We joked that our room came with a cat and, of course, we gave him treats. But I’m sure he made his nightly rounds and got treats from numerous rooms and cottages. And Buddha was not a street cat to begin with. He was well taken care of by his person, who had a massage business. This happened for years. We loved that orange kitty.
Hopefully, Gretchen and Madison will grow into getting along.
