Feral toms in the house

[Lilith]

Before I begin - I'm no expert. But I lived with these two guys for many years; they were adult ferals when they arrived on my doorstep; I fed them, neutered them, and in the end they lived with me, slept on the bed and were 'cats of the house'.

2002 was a busy year, cat-wise. I'd moved to this inner-city house in 1999 with three elderly cats who didn't roam; by 2002 they had all succumbed to old age or disease and I'd decided on no more cats. If I couldn't have the ones I'd lost, I didn't want any more. Ha - famous last words. Cats decide, not humans, and that year I got involved with a neglected group of females (and their kittens) in the street. The CPL rescued the kittens and three of the girls, neutered, moved in with me.

Needless to say, the lasses didn't have kittens without the aid of toms and that summer the lads were hanging about waiting for the girls to come back into call. Chief of these was a massive ginger, full-faced, with an expression of withering disdain and a passion for spraying on everything. He hated people and looked permanently grumpy. I expect he was; the fur behind his ears was scratted bald and red-raw. I longed to get at those ears but no chance.

His sidekick was Ali Kat, a scrawny white cat with ginger patches. Judging by the state of his coat he spent his life roosting under cars. He too avoided people. But by winter he and his ginger chum had moved on. The girls were neutered and no fun any more.

The following spring the ginger lad turned up again, much the worse for wear. I don't think a feral entire male's career is much fun once he starts ageing and losing his battles, to say nothing of the continual search for food that is the lot of the feral cat. The winter had taken its toll. He was much thinner and a bad abscess on his backside was a running sore. In those days I used to let my cats roam and I'd sit on the front doorstep with them; I fetched a bowl of food and the girls and I watched Ginger eat it. After that, of course, he turned up every day for his grub. He had to. Soon he became a little friendlier; he would even let me stroke his back although the abscess and ears were off limits. I had to get help for him.

I have a window into my cellar (known as the 'drop-in centre' when the girls were making friends) and soon Finn, as I called him, was coming in for shelter. Little did he know that I was making arrangements with a local vet and that tasty titbit of tuna in that funny box thing was to result in his being handed back later that day, ears and abscess cleaned - and neutered.

He staggered out of his box, still woozy, sat down and cocked his back leg for a wash. Then he recoiled in shock. Where the hell had his balls gone?

I thought he'd go off, once liberated, and never forgive me, but amazingly, a week later he moved in properly. The first night he found my bed, he purred and purred, and was to do so till the end of his life. That broad face lost its tomcat jowls and acquired a curly upturned tilt. He began to look benign - and, strangest of all, he began to like people. Everyone. If the gasman called, Finny wrapped himself round his legs. I swear he suddenly became half golden labrador!

There was of course a downside. His spraying. He was a walking water feature, and as his testosterone levels diminished and he began to empty his bladder fully, he would leave me a tsunami in every inconvenient place you can imagine. The house stank of him. I praised him extravagantly for using his tray, told him off if I caught him spraying, and gritted my teeth and said nothing if I found the puddle after the act. He did, after about eight months, cotton on, and eventually (apart from the odd car hubcap) became perfectly clean until his old age, when he was faecally incontinent for a few years.

Ali Kat was never dirty in the house. He arrived a year after Finn, thinner and dirtier than ever and began to accept food. His problem was aggression and his aim was to control the house and females and oust Finn. Natural tomcat behaviour but I had to protect Finn. And myself. There were a few hair-raising episodes when I was stupid enough to pick Finn up, when Ali would slam into the backs of my legs with teeth and claws and once I thought he was going to climb me in his rage; I feared for Finn (and my face.) It took him a long time to learn affection and any physical contact had to be extremely cautious; he had a head like a python and bit like one too; he'd never learned to inhibit teeth and claws. Twice I ended up on antibiotics.

I resorted to a plant sprayer, which I hope no-one thinks is cruel. It wasn't meant to be and it was better than shouting. When Ali got that expression on his face or I saw him stalking Finn, I'd squirt under his tail. Most undignified, and furthermore he lost face by whipping round to see where the cold jet was coming from. Gradually he learned to live with us.

Apparently he had had another home in the district but I can't feel it was much of one. In his early days he trotted in with a huge abscess under his chin and that was for me to see to. Neutering and shelter and regular meals turned him into a large handsome chap with a thick plushy coat. He began to show me affection, although I still had to be careful not to startle him while stroking or cuddling. He would still take it out on the backs of my legs if I had the cheek to lift him out of 'my' chair or otherwise offend him! He never went out except for once a day to make a mess. I don't like cats messing outside but he'd made it clear that although he'd wee in his tray, he preferred to go out for everything else. And that's how I lost him. One day he went out as usual; I never saw him again and although I made every enquiry, I never traced him. He was with me for three and a half years.

Finn stayed with me until September 2013 when arthritis and general dodderiness made it clear that it was better to let him go. A grand old man.

I'll never forget them. In the words of the song, they may have been a headache but they never were a bore. They gave me so much love, like all of my cats. Like all of our cats.

[bobbys girl]

Hello Lilith,

that sounds a familiar story. My Tommy was a bit like that. When he first turned up he would hiss if you approached him. We got him trapped (and neutered) as a stray because he had a bad scratch on his ear. But after that, as you say we thought he would leave, but instead he moved in!

As I type this he is sitting next to me, purring like a little engine. I know we shouldn't have favourites - but I do love my boys.

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Tom in his ferral days

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My boy Tom

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and now.

Have you got and photo's of your boys (and girls)?

[Lilith]

Hi Bobbysgirl - your Tommy's a gorgeous guy, congrats Not surprised you love him to bits.

If I can get to grips with photobucket I'll try to post pics of my lot - but might take some time lol.

[8lives]

loved reading these stories ..... very lucky cats to have found you

[Lilith]

Thank you 8lives - I enjoyed writing the lads' stories and keeping their memories alive.

I'll always mourn Ali Kat - how he disappeared just like that I can't understand. He was difficult but so lovable - I was studying Urdu at the time and idly looked up the Urdu for 'bite'...kat! Well it would be wouldn't it.

As for Finny, he turned up in a dream, asking at the front door to come in, on the anniversary of his death. I'd thought it was in October this year so got a shock when I looked it up, early Sept. They stay around.

Noticed you've got 17 cats - wow, that's wall to wall cats that is, but they shake down. I have 15 snakes but they live in thermostatically heated vivariums (like glass fronted hutches, warm top is convenient for sleeping cat lol.) I once got as far as 10 cats and there was a clique upstairs and a clique downstairs - oh boy the trays were a full time job lol!

[8lives]

Hi Lilith ..... I guess we must have had 17 cats at the time I did my profile. We're a rescue so fluctuate between about 7 and 20 cats at any one time. Oddly enough our current situation is just as you describe with 10 cats - an upstairs and downstairs group .... though they time share the irritating custody of one young tom kitten who pesters the lives out of all of them

[Lilith]

Hi 8lives - wondered if you did - that's a doubly difficult job, settling in new and often troubled cats and vetting prospective owners and homes. Sadly there can be some oddballs out there...

Your little lad sounds like my youngest cat - a total pain in the whatsit

[Crewella]

Your boys sound lovely, Lilith. I have an ex stray tom, but he had obviously been loved as a kitten as he was very scared but friendly when he came. The only true feral I've had has been female, though I have another one as a foster cat now. It's so worth it to see them come round.

[Lilith]

Hi, Crewella - yes they were, I still think about them so much.

Some people say, oh cats only come for food, they're cold etc. But of course we know that's not true and when a cat who was truly wild, living on its wits and avoiding people, comes and snuggles up to you and gives you its trust, well, that's truly wondrous