Long ago (1983) my book FERAL: TAME ANIMALS GONE WILD was published. One chapter was about cats. I especially enjoyed exploring some neighborhoods in Brooklyn, NY at night, interviewing a female college student who was studying feral cats. More recently, I became attached to a feral cat that visits here. For about 4 years through all seasons, he showed up, often twice a day. Most mornings around 7 a.m. I looked out an upstairs window and saw him waiting, patiently, by an old playhouse. Soon he was given a bowl of cat food (including items not eaten by our indoor cats).
I doubt that he had ever been a pet; he let me get no closer than 7-8 feet. Closer, he bared his teeth and hissed. Definitely feral. I named him Pharrell. We enjoyed seeing him sip water from the garden pond, and lounge in sunny spots on cold days. A handsome "tuxedo" cat (mostly black with white markings), Pharrell became part of my life--until about two weeks ago. No sign of him since. I've inquired at the local animal shelter, and of a neighbor who also fed him occasionally. Nothing. Perhaps he has been captured and is being tamed; perhaps he was killed by a coyote. The not-knowing is troubling. And, so far, each morning I continue to look out the window at Pharrell's spot to see if he's waiting for his breakfast.
I doubt that he had ever been a pet; he let me get no closer than 7-8 feet. Closer, he bared his teeth and hissed. Definitely feral. I named him Pharrell. We enjoyed seeing him sip water from the garden pond, and lounge in sunny spots on cold days. A handsome "tuxedo" cat (mostly black with white markings), Pharrell became part of my life--until about two weeks ago. No sign of him since. I've inquired at the local animal shelter, and of a neighbor who also fed him occasionally. Nothing. Perhaps he has been captured and is being tamed; perhaps he was killed by a coyote. The not-knowing is troubling. And, so far, each morning I continue to look out the window at Pharrell's spot to see if he's waiting for his breakfast.