The Fate of a Bean

Many days I have left you in utter suspense about the fate of our dear Bean. So to resume where I left off: We arrived back at Centro, trying desperately to remain optimistic. Maybe Bean has super-kitty ears and he’ll hear Carminha’s pot banging (signifying meal times) and come racing down from the hills? We left a spit trail all the way back so that perhaps he would smell his way back. We couldn’t help but think about the territory he would have to cross, guarded by vicious farm dogs that have been known to bite even humans (we often carry sticks with us to ward them off). Noon came around. Carminha banged the pot. We ate rice and beans, but there were no feline beans. The sun set behind the hills. Carminha banged the dinner pot. We ate rice and beans. No Bean. Night fell, we went to sleep. No Bean. We dreamt of ferocious mountain lion attacks and pouncing wild jaguars. Morning came. No Bean. That afternoon, Dani decided to hike all the way back up to see if she could find any traces of Bean’s livelihood or demise. When she reached the top, she found one little orange kitty meowing and trembling with fear. Overcome with emotion, Dani lunged at Bean to try to hug him. This startled Bean, and he scampered into the bushes. Eventually he came back out and let Dani carry him down the mountain. Celebrations ensued upon their return. For a few days, we didn’t even mind Bean’s annoying mealtime meowing. Even though he pounces on our faces during the night and torments us during mealtimes, we are glad to have our gatinho back.

Bean joins our morning yoga sessions

Bean pushes me to stretch further

Making mischief in a tree