A month or so later it turned up again, only this time with a little black & white bundle of fur tagging along close behind.

We named the mum "Curser," (stream of foul language coming out of her mouth,) and the kitten "Ringtail," (she had a beautifully marked black tail, with white ring a few centimetres from it's tip.)

Our initial request for guidance with the RSPCA drew a complete blank, the local Cat Protection Group were much more helpful, and we decided to start feeding the family, who we named "The Compost Heap Gang," after their chosen place of residence was discovered shortly afterwards. Mum and kitten thrived and became a daily feature.

As the weather and temperatures deteriorated, we gave them access to one of the sheds, which already had a suitably-sized hole in it. Softly furnished and draught-proofed, it wasn't long before the family moved-in.

After the New Year we started seeing less and less of Curser, with the sightings eventually falling away to nothing.

Ringtail, in the meantime, started to pay more attention to the daily routine of the cattery, and took to waiting for her breakfast underneath the hedge next to the office. The waiting became "WHERE'S MY BREAKFAST!" with Beverly being trailed from one end of the cattery to the other, albeit on the outside.

Two weeks into February and the CPG dropped off a cage-trap for us. It took less than 12 hours for the extremely greedy Ringtail to be caught. She was whisked straight off to the local vets to be neutered/spayed, and to get a 100-mile service. (Health-check, dewormed and microchipped.)

There had always been some speculation as to Ringtail's sex. On the whole we felt that she was female, with her little girly "Miaow," and the way she rolled around the place. What an actor! Ringtail is MALE! (Well somewhat lesser of a male now!)

Brought home and put into the isolation unit whilst he recuperated, we also had a go at trying to tame him down enough to accept handling.

It seemed unlikely that he would join our other two boys indoors, after all - he'd got feral genes coursing through his veins. The likelyhood was that we would release him back into the garden, as is standard practice with ferals.

We were hoping that he would decide to stick around a bit. He belonged to the cattery now, so we registered him with the microchip company as such. If he could be handled in the future he would then be innoculated, but it would be worthless if we were unable to give him a booster each year.

Ringtail continued to act like a feral cat, but without the aggression - he spent most of the time telling us that he didn't trust us, that he recognised our dominance and was submitting, but nothing else - no real domestic traits.

By the middle of the month we had resigned ourselves to releasing Ringtail with no progress having been made. However on one Sunday his character changed - he was interested in what we were up to, was no longer trying to make himself invisible, had started to rub against the unit wire, (as he used to do on the outside - pre-capture,) and was inviting us to interact with him. Tim went into the IU (Isolation Unit,) outer corridor and was playing with one of the toys-on-a-string we'd given him, which he was enjoying.

Then one day Bev had been in the unit with him and he stayed out with her, being brave enough to investigate her fingers. He was extremely gentle and, with his "kitten-head" on, had been pawing at and actually touching her hand.

We are clearly starting to make progress with him and we were determined to keep going with the aim of being able to handle him. This had one major advantage as far as we are concerned - he is a long-haired cat and we wanted to be able to help keep him in good condition.

Couldn't get a decent photo of him though - always "hull-down" to use military parlance.

...et Voila!

(Actually got too close - didn't focus, but it will do for the moment!)

Bev managed to stroke him. Ringtail started accepting chin-tickles and tolerated having one of his few "tats" teased out.

Then Tim got to stroke him too!

17th March 2008

By a unanimous decision over the weekend, Ringtail became RINGO! Not because we had a thing for Liverpudlian drummers, or popular potato snacks, but because he needed a more "pet-like" shorter name. He's as soft as clarts, although doesn't like being picked up, he does like his stroking sessions, and purrs madly away with his eyes half-closed.

It does seem more likely now, as the weeks have progressed, that he would not be released back into the garden. He'd become a bit of a softy.

In a week or so's time, it was planned that we would make an important decision regarding his future.

19th April 2008

Firstly, an apology - to those of you who might have been secretly harbouring the hope that the next announcement was to be "Home Wanted."

Ringo had been rehomed.

Actually he only moved as far as up the garden path, through the arch and in through our back door.

He continued to behave much more like a normal domestic cat - clearly his mother can't have been a true feral, and we had grown to love him very much.

He had his first innoculation before we went on holiday, during which time we made our decision to home him ourselves - he was then boostered when we returned.

Linus treated it with incredulous disbelief - ("Oh for goodness sake - another new cat - how many more?!) He became a bit of a grump - Ringo was giving him a medium to wide berth, and learning some bad language in the process. Linus always came round in the end though.

Ringo was then given the pedigree name of "Ringo Dingo Ali Bongo Roberts." Can't wait for them to call that out in the vets.......!

Update - 11th February 2009

Almost exactly a year to the day when we first managed to get hold of Ringo, we met his dad! (At least we're fairly sure it was him.) For some time now we had been plagued by a tom-cat, calling-round in the middle of the night, instigating some choral work with our cats underneath our bedroom window, and liberally spraying his calling card all over the place. Once again, with the help of the local Cat Protection Group, we managed to catch him, confirm his feral credentials, and remove some others. He spent a night, free of charge in the IU, and we released him the next morning. He was away in the blink of an eye, but his progress was marked by a scattering of birds from the hedgeline as he scrambled along the top of the fence to the bottom of the garden. He stayed long enough for Beverly to name him "Benjamin Button," on account of his button nose apparently, and coinciding with the film on release at the time.

Was he Ringo's dad? We think so - but you decide: