Tumbleweed was the only son of Twilight’s daughter, Storm. He was born in the fields and, despite being a member of the Garden Family, the fields were where he felt most at home – not because he was inherently wild or feral in character, but just because the fields were in his blood.

In retrospect, it seems likely that BBC (Big Black Cat) was his father as Tumbleweed developed a wonderfully thick coat and, had it not been for some incident in the field as a small kitten which left him with a damaged tail, he would undoubtedly have had his father’s plume of a tail.

This is one of the first photos we have of Tumbleweed, taken in the field where he was born and spent his early life. The end of his tail was already damaged and withering and, by the time he came to the garden, it had dropped off, leaving him with a stump.

Storm brought her young son to the garden for weaning. She was not interested in living in the garden herself, but Tumbleweed was a curious cat and he fitted in well with the Garden Family, his playful nature instantly endearing him to everyone. He had playmates and a captive audience for his silliness, plus humans to wave a branch for him to play with, and fresh food and water available 24/7.

Tumbleweed was an affectionate and entertaining character with round eyes and a permanently startled expression, and he never grew out of his playfulness; not being interested in becoming an alpha-male of the neighbourhood meant he had plenty of opportunity for playing around, exploring and taking things at his own pace.

He became best friends with Arash, one of Twilight’s younger sons; ironically Arash, despite being younger, was technically Tumbleweed’s uncle, Twilight being Storm’s mother. They would wait for each other each afternoon in the fields before heading over to the drive for their tea, a walk which would take most cats only a few minutes, but took Arash and Tumbleweed five times as long as they would stop every few steps to leap on each other, play-fighting and chasing every step of the way.

Tumbleweed’s happy disposition was his biggest asset. He was not a moody cat, impatient or hormonal, rather a furry bundle of eccentricity, completely unaware of himself, his beauty and his mellow charm.

Tumbleweed was just Tumbleweed, and that was just how we wanted him to be.