The Cat, Sprocket and their kittens continued to enjoy life until tragedy struck and we lost Sprocket on the road one night. Just a few weeks later, a virus hit the cat population, with the kittens particularly badly hit and, before the year was out, The Cat was left alone once again. The joy of caring for The Garden Family was turning out to be regularly tempered with sorrow.

It was soon after this that there was a very noisy new arrival in the field. Of course the new arrival was made welcome by the humans, fed and watered and, being an intelligent youngster, became a daily visitor to the driveway.

The Cat, however, was not disposed to make the newcomer welcome, especially not since Dinky (as we had called her) had the audacity to present herself in The Cat’s Garden and help herself to food. So The Cat made her feelings known by chasing Dinky to the top of the olive tree where she clung on precariously in gale-force winds while The Cat sat menacingly below.

In order to keep the peace, Dinky was fed separately … and often. Dinky was permanently hungry, loud, affectionate, and used to humans. It was now evident that Dinky was a boy, and his miaowing was fortissimo and non-stop.

It was then that we realised that we had been adopted by Dinky, and that Dinky was a dumped Bengal cat.