Three years after Pedal, Ratchet and Sprocket were born, The Cat once again had a litter with three very different kittens.

Whitefur, Greyfur and Blackfur’s names were not supposed to be permanent – they were just their birth names so we could easily identify them…but of course, their baby names stuck (no surprise there!)

Like Pedal, Greyfur, who was the second born, was a handsome grey-and-white tabby. He had a white shawl, and tawny patches where the grey ran into the white.

In later life, he would grow into the biggest of the litter – this photo is at only four months old and he was already looking big and strong.

The months and his first year passed and Greyfur was growing into a gentle giant; he had a sweet disposition and, although he would fight if needed, he did not go out of his way to court trouble from the other males. He had no alpha-male aspirations and was happy to make his way in the world in his own, independent way. Like his sister Whitefur, he was a free spirit.

As he became fully grown, he visited less frequently, spending most of his time in the fields on the other side of the road with Whitefur. When he came, he would eat a lot, storing up for a few days away. But even with his absences, he still fitted into garden life perfectly and was a pleasure to care for.

In actual fact, the probably reason that he visited less and less and then stopped altogether was that he grew too big and heavy to jump over the high gates in the driveway without damaging his joints; he was also very wary of the road and would wait for me to open the gate for him to leave, sitting back until there was no sound of traffic before going through the gate and back to the fields opposite.

Greyfur had outgrown the garden and moved on to a new life.