This is a true story...
For the past eight years a sweet, disabled, old man, whom I've dubbed the cat-man for the purpose of this story, has driven fourteen miles, round trip, each day to feed several groups of feral cats. He has a soft spot in his heart that is filled to the brim with compassion for the abandoned and feral kitties there. He saves table scraps, leftovers, and sometimes when he has the extra bit of cash, he buys a large bag of dry cat food. He has a sweet kitty of his own at home, and also gives her all the tender love and care that he gives to his kitties in the wild.
Eight years ago cat-man began visiting a friend's farm. It's not the kind of farm where you think: barns, barn cats, lady of the house to feed them and so for. It's the business end of the farm, shop buildings, office, bunkhouse for their workers. There's no one there to take care of, or has the time to care about the kitties that have been taken out there and dropped off.
The Alpha Cat
Cat-man's farmer friends look forward to him coming out and taking care of the wild kitties around their out buildings. He was even given a key to the shop building so he could go out and feed the kitties anytime he wanted and hangout with them. Every morning he gets up early, has his breakfast and goes out to visit his family of cats; three males and one female with five kitties.
Gray male--and acting father
Groups of cats come and go at their buildings, in their fields, and orchards. Some get run over on the road, other's get sick and just disappear, but for the past two years now, cat-man has made friends out of this group of, now, nine cats. He has a way with wild things, a cat whisperer of sorts. He has not named the wild cats, and no one else can even approach any of them; they skedaddle whenever anyone else comes around. But the cats do know his car and come running when he pulls into the lot. The old guy sits in a wheelchair and they come to him to be fed and petted. They hang out with him as he watches television for a few hours and chats with the foreman and some of the help. He is a farmer at heart, and misses the days when he could do that kind of work.
the old man's fuzzy buddy
One male cat in particular, the one cat-man has describes to me as his fuzzy buddy, is the first to come up to him every morning as soon as he arrives. When he has eaten his fill he climbs upon the man's chest, rubs against his chin, sits in lap, and takes a nap, purring. This wild cat will not think twice about using his claws on anyone else on the farm that even tries to come near him. Yet he is as gentle and loving as a domesticated cat to the old man.
fuzzy buddy in the shade
Out of the three males, his fuzzy buddy is the lowest cat on the cat's chain of hierarchy. The Alpha cat is a large grayish, striped cat; next in line is a gray male, and then the man's fuzzy buddy. The cat-man tells me that the Alpha male is the meanest thing on earth and keeps everyone in line. Fuzzy buddy is the one that gets the most abuse from the big boss cat.
Earlier this summer a female came upon the scene. She had kittens suckling and hidden somewhere, but each day she came to try out the food. The cat-man patiently coaxed her to him, day after day, until she just came right up and ate beside the other cats at his feet. Not too many weeks went by after she had first appeared than she brought out her five kittens from their hiding place for the old man to see.
Kitties first outing, about 5 or 6 weeks old
The momma cat has taught her babies about how nice this man is and not to be afraid. Over the weeks, one by one, each has made approaches to the shop building and learned to eat the food. Now the kittens dash about inside the shop building, playing and napping on the furniture as if they owned the place.
Kitties playing in the shop's office
The mean cat, or the boss of them all, as the old man puts it, lets the kittens play near him and tolerates them. But will spit at them if they get to close. The all gray one tends to the kittens like a father when the momma cat is off somewhere. Fuzzy buddy is a little battle scared and worn, but the cat-man won't interfere because it means an execution for the Alpha male. He's at a dilemma over this situation, but because he loves all the cats, he can't bring harm to one for doing what comes naturally in a feral world. But, he says, sometimes it's hard to watch him beat up on the two other males, especially because he and fuzzy buddy are so close. Or maybe because of it.
Kitties test the food
Cat-man has tamed other little groups of wild cats such as these in the past eight years; watched them as kittens come out of hiding and make friends. And he's sadly had to bury a few. His heart breaks, when one is lost, but he lets them alone, and they have given him their friendship in return. And sometimes their mice.
Momma and kitties eating and washing up
From the variety of the litter, it looks as if each of the three males had a part in fathering the kittens. There's a gray one, a fuzzy one, like the old mans fuzzy buddy, and one like the Alpha male. And two like the mother.
They are growing up healthy and happy for now. But like most feral cats, they'll never be adopted by forever families. These cats are destined to remain wild and as long as the cat-man can get out to see them, they will not go hungry. Even some of the laborers that live in the bunkhouse are now saving food for them. Plus...as it is in all farm buildings, there are always plenty of mice.
1. These are Yellow Violets that were accented against four shades of yellow primroses in pots all over. I forgot to take pictures of the primroses. The primroses and the violets have now been replaced by the summer annuals. But take my word for it, the primroses were large, healthy and beautiful. 
10. Day Lily
12. Snapdragons. I had to use a stock picture, mine are bloomed off at the moment.
13. SunsatiaLemon Nemesia
