If you’ve stayed here before you’ve probably met Farm Cat. I unfairly called her the beast of Exmoor in an earlier blog, but that’s before we got to know her. She was feral when we arrived, the previous owners having failed after numerous attempts to get her in the car when they left. They left us a note and told us her name was Molly, but she stubbornly spent the first summer stalking prey on the banks in front of the main house. She wouldn’t come anywhere near us until one afternoon she actually let me pick her up at which point she started purring like a Deliveroo moped. She was thin, full of worms, and had a large portion of left ear missing, but after a few months on decent rations and a bit of basic treatment she shone like a star and became a proper fixture. When winter came however, she still refused to stay in the house, so we built her special accommodation of her own with a window next to her bed so she can see when the grub is up. Unfortunately however she gave up the stalking day job and quickly became the size of a small planet, barely making it out of the cat flap towards Spring. The picture is of her before the weight gain problem!
We’ve cut back her rations a bit but that’s not working because even a lumbering blob of a thing like her can top up with easy prey at this time of the year. She still bosses the two house cats however, and we’ll keep working on her fitness, but when an animal has had it tough like Farm Cat, who can blame her for taking it a bit easy when the good times roll. We don’t call her Molly by the way.