It took three years for The Cat to trust us enough to allow human touch, and there were another seven years after that when we saw her every day, usually twice daily, for feeding. And yet, even after all those years, all those meals together, her eyes told us that there was still a tiny part of her that was wary, that she could only trust 99%, and that the feral cat in her would always be there.

This is an early photo of The Cat, before she was friendly. She eyed humans with suspicion, which was probably not a bad thing as not all humans can be trusted to be kind to cats or animals in general.

Once The Cat had taken the big step of allowing human touch, she expected to be rewarded. There was a certain dry food which she particularly loved and this intense stare usually preceded an offering of kibble by the humans to their feline overlord – finding out what the alternative was if she did not get her kibble was not advisable.

Once The Cat discovered the joy of boxes, she assumed every box was intended for her. Obviously they were. She liked to have the lower box upturned with the upper box the right way round, to give her extra height and a well-justified feeling of superiority. Hierarchy is important to feral cats, and cannot be ignored or passed over. She knew she was superior to the humans, and if we sat in the front path together, it was expected that the humans would leave the top step free for The Cat.

Whether we knew it or not, The Cat was training the humans. When she gave us this look, it was time for tea, and no arguing. That would have been really unwise; as The Cat was feral at heart, we knew that would always be an potentially unpredictable streak in her character which was best not explored.

The Cat during her ‘don’t-come-any-closer’ phase, before the humans had earned the right to touch her fur. It is vital not to do anything that makes animals question the trust they are thinking about putting in you, even if that trust is only a seed of an idea.

The full-blown, flared-nostril ‘I’m-not-in-the-mood-for-humans’ look – a look not to be ignored.

This was the look on The Cat’s face on the day she ran towards the humans to escape her clamouring kittens in the garden. It was the first time she had looked to the humans for friendship or understanding, and once she reached the top of this garden ladder, she had no idea what to do next. The choices were to return to the garden (and her kittens), or to come onto the terrace (and join the humans). She had taken herself by surprise and she was nonplussed (much as were the humans). After a minute or so, she returned to the garden for a think.

We were flattered and touched that The Cat put her trust in us, but not surprised that there remained a little part of her which would eternally be feral.