The Cat was an adult feral lady when we first met her. We have no idea of her age or her past history, so can only go from what we saw when (and after) we met her.

In the beginning, she was a long and lean cat with a short coat but, with better nutrition, she blossomed and her coat became longer giving the impression of a chunkier cat, although under all that fur she was as slender as ever.

Overall, The Cat’s health was good but she had started to show her age (whatever it was) over her last year or so, finding it more difficult to keep her longer coat clean, and generally looking like an older lady.

We had imagined that The Cat was enjoying her ‘retirement’ in the garden and it came as a shock to find that she had been going out and about to the fields opposite, which was how she came to lose her life on the road.

Here is one photo from each of her last six months; as you can see, she still enjoyed being in the middle of things, whether it was at feeding time or relaxing on one of the water tanks with her family group as well as napping in the long grass under the citrus trees.

The Cat the previous autumn, enjoying the morning sun on the water tank on the verandah with her family. The females of her family in particular gravitated to her side, recognising the power of the matriarch and reinforcing her position as Queen of the Garden, and Empress of All She Surveys.
L-R Flora, The Cat, Pippin, Whitefur and Calypso. Whitefur was The Cat’s older daughter and Flora the youngest. Pippin and Calypso were litter-mates and Flora’s daughters, hence The Cat’s grand-daughters.

The Cat the previous winter, in front of the feeding station and pods. Underneath is Flora (you can just see her legs), Cheese is on the top, and Gypsy is on the green crate.
The Cat and her daughter Flora generally ate together on the pallets while the other cats milled about on the top. Some cats were fed individually on the green crates, on the wall behind the feeding station, on the ground or on the water tank.

A mother-and-daughter moment – The Cat the previous winter with her daughter, Whitefur.
This photo says a lot – The Cat was looking older, keeping clean was getting more difficult, and Whitefur (who had never been a needy daughter or even particularly close to her mother) was content to feel the weight of her mother’s paw on her back, and sensitive enough to support her during her last few months.

The Cat, snug in the long grass the previous winter. This was pretty much how we thought The Cat was spending her later months – relaxing in the garden, coming to mingle with the other cats and the humans at mealtimes, sleeping under the trees when the weather was nice and in a sheltered spot when the weather was bad. We had no idea she was still going into the fields, over the road, out and about.

The Cat with her grand-daughter Calypso, demanding her special plate of food.
Of all her grand-kittens, Calypso was probably the closest to The Cat, seeking her out to nap together, and spending time in her company. The Cat was always fed first; her favourite food was duck jelly pouches which she ate slowly and deliberately, cleaning every last morsel from the plate.

The Cat napping in the garden with her grand-daughter Calypso. This was taken 2-3 weeks before The Cat passed away.

The Cat kept surprising us right to her last breath. We were amazed to find her on the road, to realise that she had been going out at night, doing all the normal things that feral cats do. From the first moment we met her to her last breath she remained at heart a feral cat.