It seems to me that, on the whole, cats in Portugal work hard for a living. Most of the cats I see here seems to be feral or semi-feral, and highly suspicious of humans. Either that or my cat whispering skills have entirely vanished! The cats I encounter slink down alleyways, pressed against the edge of buildings, tails and backs down, disappearing under the nearest car or bush the minute they spy me.
Perhaps these cats show affection to their humans and share an antipathy towards short, blonde Canadian women? I’m not sure — I just know that no amount of kitty kittying has persuaded even one cat to approach me tail up, looking for an ear scratch.
At one of the guesthouses I stayed in, the shared kitchen was in a separate structure with patio windows on three sides. Someone had left the door open, and two of the farm cats had spent the night inside. When I came in the next morning, these cats literally ricocheted off the windows in their panic to escape the human ogre in their midst. It was awful (they hit those windows hard and I was afraid they would hurt themselves), and a little Looney-Tunes-cartoon funny. I would have been happy to share my canned sardines with them!
Update
I was just about to send this post out when I met the cats of the Mira River.
Turns out the cats of the Mira, although homeless, love to be petted. Perhaps because they depend on public donations and Maria, who runs the Mira River ferry service, to feed them.
I loved my ferry ride with Maria. It was beautiful on the water, and it saved 2 kms of highway and bridge hiking. And of course I was happy to leave some Euros in the donation plate. Lesson learned — if you are looking for friendly Portuguese cats — head to the ferry dock in Vila Nova de Milfontes!
