Raining cats and ... cats

So being cat obsessive I thought it would make sense for my first post to be about the cats!

We arrived with three rescues: an eight-year-old brother and sister, and a younger five-year-old female. The brother, Domino, is deaf and needs a lot of care. For the first five months we lived in the motorhome on the farm and could keep a close eye on him; when we moved temporarily into the village house, that care became much harder. He is now with my mum in a very secure garden in the village, happier and safer. I see him every day and still hope to have him back at the farm one day.

His sister, Tilly, died of cancer three years ago. She loved it here, she would often come for walks with me between the trees and I still catch myself looking for her on the paths. The younger female, Mia, lives with us at the farm now and has settled beautifully.

When we first arrived there was already a little colony of strays living around the walls. The tom died, and over the years we trapped and neutered any kittens (we have five of those youngsters now). The mother avoided every attempt. Then one afternoon on the terrace this April I heard the tiniest mews: she had tucked herself into a box and delivered five more kittens. Luckily we had an outside room; my husband carried the whole family in, and we gave them quiet and time. I went in every day to make sure she and had food and water and so that she and the kittens would become used to me. Slowly she gained my trust, not entirely but enough and she's now sterilised. She stays with her kittens but she plays a lot on her own now which is great to see!

We've already castrated two of the young males (Merry and Boromir); the rest are booked for the next few weeks. It is more common to wait here than it is in the UK but I found a vet from Lisbon happy to neuter them now. One kitten, Pippin, lost sight in an eye after a bad infection and is now blind, but otherwise thriving. Around the same time someone dumped a ginger-and-white kitten with us. And so, almost without noticing, the headcount grew: twelve cats at the farm, and Domino ruling his village garden.

There are more bowls and vet visits than I ever planned for, and more expenses in the budget too. But there is also more company, more purring on the steps in the sun, and more small lives that are safe and well.

A few lessons the cats keep teaching me:
- Plans shrink; care expands.
- Secure spaces matter, for them and for us.
- Love multiplies; so do bowls and beds.

With everyone now fixed or scheduled, I'm hoping the surprise arrivals are over. For now, we are thirteen: twelve at the farm, and Domino in the village, visited daily and loved just the same.