Puerto Rico was a lot of fun. I think I drank my weight in Maltas and went swimming every day. We went on a long walk that my parents call 'the Iguana walk' because there are so many lizards lounging about (we even saw one swimming like an eel!) and the Cat Walk in Old San Juan, which I think I'm going to be writing a Happy Tail about. It was the land of strays and rescued animals. My parents' landlord had five cats and three dogs, all save one dog were rescues. My parents would get up in the morning and throw their front door wide. The animals would then start meandering in and out as they saw fit, sometimes napping with my parents, always asking for treats and occasionally wanting a lap to sit on. One of the cats, Tiger Belly, had been weaned too young and would sit on my lap and very industriously explore my shirt for milk. It was kind of cute and kind of disgusting as I'd have to change my drool soaked shirt afterwards. Eventually I got him a rag soaked in milk.