My mom for a time was director of tourism for the county. Her office was a welcome center in a refitted old schoolhouse. There was a gift shop and there were maps and stuff, normal welcome center stuff.
She found a scruffy orange kitten out back one day and took him in. Named him Jackson. He became the Welcome Center Offical Greeter Cat.
He was WAY more popular than the gift store or the maps. People would stop in SPECIFICALLY to see Jackson.
Anyway mom got driven out of that job for various bullshit petty reasons involving the fact that two guys on the tourism board hated her for various misogany related reasons, and when she resigned she took the cat.
They were very angry about this. As mom pointed out, though, SHE had paid all the vet bills, for food, ect. Legally, she was registered as the cat's owner and they couldn't do a thing. Jackson came home with her and lived out the rest of his very long life (he died at 17) in she and dad's old farmhouse.
The tourism board had to shut the welcome center and are still baffled as to why things fell apart so much after mom left. They still periodically get questions about where the welcome cat went. Suck shit, Tom and Daryl. It's because neither of you can run more than your damn mouth and you couldn't organize your way out of a wet paper bag.