Theo's Revenge

         Maybe we can just stay in Antigua forever.

       Dan is discovering (and I already discovered) that Antigua is a magical place. The temps are in the low eighties at this time of year in January, but a cool ocean breeze makes it possible to enjoy the sunshine without breaking a sweat.

       We leave Theo at our villa with his chow and snacks, go to dinner in a lovely out door restaurant, and now--just the two of us--get to enjoy Antigua at night. Technically, we are in the parish of St. John's, in the northwest portion of Antigua. It is the capital of Antigua, founded in 1692, and has a population of close to 60,000. 

         We can't resist taking a photo of our villa and of the pool that sits in front of where we're staying. 

 

        

      As we walk back from dinner, we feel like we've left Kansas (so to speak) like in the Wizard of Oz and are following the yellow brick road (in our case it's a pale white) towards a place filled with palm trees and Caribbean magic.

 

          The dream is short lived. The next morning we go to breakfast. I'd like to say that Theo's almost encounter with the bird--who we now realize was a pigeon--is forgotten. But I can tell that Theo has forgotten nothing. 

          He is gazing around--not at the beautiful scenery--but rather he is acting more like a spy in enemy territory. Expecting at any second to be ambushed. On high alert. 

         I try to calm him down. "We're going to breakfast. There's nothing to worry about."

         He looks at me as if I am delusional. 

         I order the Eggs Benedict but Dan orders the Antiguan breakfast--an interesting mixture of foods which includes salted cod. Fish. Theo begs for a piece, and it is in that moment of feeding Theo that the nightmare begins to unfold. 

          

         Suddenly a bird swoops into view--an unwanted visitor--and this time it is the Carib Grackle. And why am I surprised? His reputation has preceded him. So, this is the bold bird who will fly into a restaurant and steal the food right off your plate. 

           Carib Grackle hasn't seen us yet, but Theo has seen him. He immediately freezes. His normally sweet eyes turn into laser beams as he spots his new arch enemy.

            And then it happens. 

 

            The Grackle flies to a table close to ours and pretending not to notice Theo, begins his reconnaissance--searching for anything edible that he can scoop up and take back to his nest. He is a forager, a scavenger, eager to collect any food left over from the family who's just vacated the table. He spies the bread basket.  

              

             I'm thinking at this moment that this is a good development. Grackle eats the bread. Theo eats the fish. I glance down and Theo, super suspicious, has one paw protectively over the fish as if he is anticipating the Grackle's next move. 

      

         Would he dare? Steal the fish from a cat? And not just some ordinary cat. Theo has a reputation. He's a gangster cat, and he's not likely to take an enemy invading his territory lightly.

           I lean down and pet Theo for reassurance. He's sitting at my feet, partially under the table. But he isn't eating. He's watching. He's waiting. 

        

           "Eat the fish, Theo," I say, but Theo waits. Obviously, he knows the bird kingdom better than I do, and sure enough before I can say another word, the Grackle flies to the railing. He pretends to be grooming. He pretends to be totally unconcerned about Theo and his fish. 

            

           This bird was smart, I realize later.

        My guard goes down. Dan is eating his breakfast, and I sit back, about to finish mine. Too much worry about nothing. 

  

        A flash. A scuffle. Theo reacts better than I would expect. Carib Grackle swoops down low, as if he thinks he can swipe up the fish in his claws as he's flying by. Theo, one step ahead, sits on top of the fish.  He then raises his right paw like a fist to fend off the invader.

        The fight over the salt cod is over in a mini-second. The Carib Grackle flies off to another table. Theo relaxes and begins to eat. 

        Dan says, "What just happened?"

 

        "I'm not sure," I say, "but I think it's over, and Theo won."

         "For now."

         We glance down at Theo. "Well?"

          Cats can't smile. But if they could, I bet you he would have a big fat smile on his fishy face.

         

            

            

Antiguan Adventure #1:Theo and the Grackle

             This is my third time visiting Antigua, a small Caribbean island, and Dan's first. I love the warm climate, blue skies, beautiful vistas, palm trees, infinity pool and beaches. Dan does too, but his obsession is to play tennis. Theo, the gangster cat,  . . . well,  I promise him sunny days on the veranda and lots of snacks. And, of course, an adventure.

         We arrive. The scenery is stunning. The ocean is so close you can smell it. The houses are pink, yellow, green and all shades bright and cheery. 

          Dan, as usual, shares some history of this delicious island with Theo. "Antigua was originally a British colony. The island was dotted with sugar plantations. The British also made rum. The native Antiguans who lived here, mostly slaves, had a terrible standard of living."

          We're not sure if Theo is listening. He's gazing out the window of the taxi, seemingly lost in thought. Is he more impressed by the beautiful scenery and less by the history of Antigua? 

       

          "Antigua gained its independence in 1981."

           Still, no response from Theo.

           "There are  365 beaches. Mostly all public beaches. And the island is only 108 square miles."  

            "That's a lot of beaches," I add. 

            Still, Theo hasn't said a meow. 

            We arrive at our villa and immediately change into our bathing suits. From our veranda, the lovely pool awaits.  The sun is shining. 

           "Come on, Theo." I figure what harm can he get into hanging out by the pool? Sure enough, he spots a lounge chair and hops up. 

            "Time for a nap," I suggest.

            I often wonder what the world looks like from a cat's point of view. As Dan and I admire the scenery and the architecture of the houses AND long to jump into the water, what is Theo thinking? 

            I glance over and he's closing his eyes, about to drift off. Purrfect. 

            Well, best laid plans. You know what they say. In our defense we are lulled by the Caribbean breezes and, perhaps, dulled by the two glasses of Rum punch that we find in our suite. The water is so refreshing after the usual nonsense plane ride that we lose ourselves in the moment.  

            A bird lands on the tile surrounding the pool. From a distance it looks brown with some purple plumage.  Could it be the Carib Grackle? I've heard things about this bird. Highly aggressive. Smart. They're excellent at foraging for insects on the ground and not above flying into restaurants and stealing food right off the tables. 

            I grab my iPhone and figure, if this bird is up to no good, I'm going to catch him in the act. 

            The problem is I'm so intent on capturing the video, I miss the possibilities. Theo. He sees the bird, too. His mouth opens, and I hear Theo making those sounds that cats make when they're envisioning a full course meal--ch, ch, ch. Suddenly he's sitting upright. His tail has fattened, and it's waving like mad. He's crouching. NO . . .

           Theo jumping off the lounge chair and lunging for the bird plays like a scene in a disaster movie. 

           "Stop," I scream.

            The bird doesn't even turn its head. But I suspect the so far innocent bird can sense danger coming its way. 

             Theo, our little gangster cat, is in mid air when the bird moves, an elegant side step that catches Theo unaware. Theo crash lands onto the very wet deserted tile and with so much momentum pushing him forward, begins to slide toward the edge of the pool. 

            I can see it all clearly. Theo careening into the waiting water. Splashing about. I can't think. Can cats swim? There's the doggy paddle, but what about cats? Theo actually likes water, but swimming?  

             "Get Theo."

             But, no, he doesn't slide into the pool. Later, when we discuss the incident, I ask Theo pointblank. "What were you planning to do?"

             Theo shrugs. "I only wanted to sniff him."

              I narrow my eyes. "You can not commit murder near the infinity pool."

              Theo shrugs. "I do what I have to do. See?"

               That is not the answer I'm hoping for. "I mean it, Theo."

               Dan interrupts, "You know the bird we saw near the pool--it  wasn't a Grackle. I think it was a pigeon."

               "What?"

              Little do I know, this eternal struggle between cat and bird will continue. See you next week for Part 2.