onmyown Rory's story is a long on. I shall try to give you a brief-ish summary. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin.
About two years ago, a big black feral cat walked into our snowy garden. He was accompanied by a pretty female cat and two young kittens. We started to put food out for the little family. We often saw the male cat walking between our home and the village 3 miles away. We were told that he was "unapproachable and vicious". We contacted the feral cat protection guy. He said that there was a colony of cats living rough high up in the forest. He said that we should try to "capture" them and take them to the vet to be sterilised. He brought some traps to our home. In the meantime, my husband - MacSporran, built a wee chalet under which the food was placed to protect it from the rain. The male cat took a liking to it. He sort of moved in on the odd occasion. We then scrubbed out a wheelie bin, lay it on it's side, and put in a few blankets. Black cat took up residence, toddling off to be with his family on occasions. We put the cat traps out on an evening when we assumed that the family would arrive together. It was a very traumatic episode for us and the female cats. One by one they entered the traps and fought to get themselves free. We had to then take them to the vet. The girls were spayed and returned to the garden after a few days with the man from the cats' protection league. The black cat REFUSED to enter the trap. We purchased a very nice kennel, inside which we put an igloo type cat basket and fleeces. Also a door mat! Black cat loved it. I gingerly put his bowl down outside the kennel. He would come out of his upmarket home to eat...not to be sociable. Mother cat and kits returned almost daily for a feed...staying well away until we were back inside the house. One day, the black cat walked into the utility room. He hissed and spat as I tried to get past him. When I foolishly startled him, he flew at me and ripped through my jeans with teeth and claws. I had to have a tetanus injection for my injuries. Much later on, having got to be not so afraid of us [though we were very nervous of him] he came back into the house and walked around beside me.
He then went through the kitchen door and back into the kennel. We arranged for a vet to come to the house, and when he next entered, he was captured and taken away to be castrated/de-flowered. When he returned, he stayed in our home overnight. Within a very short time he moved in for real. He is now the light of my husband's life [together with me, naturally.] He is almost like MacS's shadow. They do everything together. He is, dare I say, adorable and most affectionate. If you look through my Gransnet photos you'll see some pics of Rory Mactavish...the cat who came in from the cold. We still feed his wifelet, although she doesn't call as often as one of her kittens...known as Tortoiseshell. She has just had her third feed of the day. She waits until her presence is noted, hides under the hydrangea bush, and comes out to feed as I close the door. The other kitten, known as Tabby, hasn't appeared for some weeks now. Phew! You did ask. I hope that I haven't bored you into a stupor. Rory's story has many chapters to it. Far too many to tell in one session.
He is not a wild cat. Wild cats cannot be domesticated. Rory was wild in the sense that he lived in a commune and fended for himself. He is now far from being the bolshy cat of yesteryear. 