After months of having lieutenant Dan in my care and after all the poor cat has been through – he is a true fighter, always scratching and biting at every chance – he stills hangs on to his feral background to the best of his ability. This morning while having my coffee and smoke, Dan came to me and sat by my shoes. For the first time in many months I could finally pick him up without him trying to run away, scratch or bite me, it was one of the most rewarding experiences that I could have ever been given.
As I set out to drive to work, just 500 yards from our house I found the mangled body of one of our oldest feral cats that was killed on the road. Her poor body was just dumped there like it never had any meaning. Its days like this that I find it very hard to see the reason in doing what we do. MooMoo our feral was with us for more than 7 years, every morning she was waiting for her food and back again in the evening. The numerous attempts at socialising her went in vain as she was a true spirit. Only a few weeks ago she finally relinquished her pride and moved into one of our feral homes. The only time I ever got to hold her was to carry her mangled body off the road.