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Meet Biscuit

 

A few nights ago, Biscuit was living outdoors, unneutered, unmicrochipped, and unknown to us. He was trapped as part of our ongoing TNR and rehabilitation work and brought to the vet for desexing and a health check.

As part of his procedure, he was scanned for a microchip.

Nothing.

No registered owner to contact.
No way to know where he came from.
No way to know whether he had ever belonged to someone.

This photo is a powerful reminder of why microchipping matters.

A microchip is tiny, but it can mean the difference between a lost cat finding their way home and a cat becoming just another unknown face.

The good news for Biscuit is that his story doesn’t end there. He has now been desexed, microchipped, and is recovering safely while we get to know him a little better.

For one small ginger cat, a simple scan told us he had no one looking for him.

Now he does.

 

 

 

🐾 Biscuit's rescue story is kept here, but his journey continues in the blog. Visit the blog section for updates, progress, and all the little moments that make rescue so special.

 

 

Biscuit

The Cat the Earth Delivered with a Whump

02 June 2026

 

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The Cat the Earth Delivered

The trap had just been set, but like so many nights before, it sat patiently in the darkness while its intended occupants ignored it completely. The street cats had become experts at avoiding capture. They appeared when the trap was unset, disappeared when it was set, and generally behaved as though they were one step ahead of every plan.

Then the earth intervened.

Without warning came a tremendous WHUMP.  The house didn’t seem to shake first. It jumped. That was SOME earthquake!

For one startling moment it felt as though the entire building had lifted from its foundations and dropped back down again. The impact rolled through the floor, through the walls, through the furniture. Then came the rattling. Shelves trembled. Chimney rattled and Brett thought the kitchen bench entirely left the ground!

Everything buzzed and shivered as the house settled back into place. Meanwhile, I was trying to figure out whether I had left the couch intentionally or was knocked off it.

Outside, a small ginger-and-white tomcat was having an equally confusing evening.

He looked remarkably like BB, as though nature had produced a second version using the same template but added a little extra white and made him just slightly smaller.

He had spent the night doing what cautious feral cats do: watching, waiting, avoiding anything suspicious.

Then came the WHUMP. The ground lurched. And for one brief moment, the little cat forgot to be careful.  A familiar smell drifted through the night.  Food. Works every time, mostly!

And then.....Just like that... While I was still wondering whether the earthquake had damaged the house, the earthquake had apparently solved my trapping problem.  Upon gathering my wits about me and going out to move the trap to the warmth of the car ready for the vet visit tomorrow,  like BB,  big explosions from the trap with the covering towel flapping,  but couple hours later the fury had faded.

The wild protests had stopped. Now he simply looked bewildered.

One minute he had been roaming free beneath the stars. The next, the earth had gone WHUMP, the world had rattled, and somehow he had ended up in a crate heading toward a safer future.

If cats tell stories, I suspect his version goes something like this:

“The ground exploded. Everything shook. Then a giant metal box swallowed me. Humans were definitely involved.”

And honestly, from his perspective, that explanation is probably accurate enough.