Last week a Mom cat and her sister, both maybe a year old and really small in size, arrived with four kittens in tow...2 black, 2 tabby. They took up residence on my back patio, already set up for my Siamese Yum Yum and Jesse the Wonder Cat (named that before I began tweeting for Herman @Tattlecat and actually met @TheWonderCats.)
My first encounter with Mom Cat was friendly. She let me pet her. The sister and kittens kept their distance and would come out of hiding only after I put down the food and left. Earlier this week while petting Mom Cat a tabby kitten was close enough for me to run my hand down Mom's tail and touched his nose. He blinked, but didn't run. Good sign.
Yesterday I found that same tabby sleeping in Jesse's chair under the ever-burning heat lamp (250 watts!). When I reached down to pet him he didn't run, and ended up with a wonderpurr body massage from head to tail. Later that night I managed to touch to all of the cats including the skittish sister. So progress is being made to tame them, although they aren't technically what I'd call feral. I've dealt with feral. Angel, a tabby who littered my backyard in Jacksonville for several years before I lured her into a trap with a salmon steak sauteed in lemon butter, was the Queen of Feral.
These photos were taken this morning during breakfast. The fog you see is the cold frosting my camera lens. I have 3 heat lamps burning for them, so no worries, they are snuggy warm.