close to my story.
the pic I posted shows the mother-cat.
she was a stray, but without a collar or anything (she was ~6 month old at that time), with the bad habbit to run into our house and hide. my mother kept throwing her out of the house.
she was always hungry (she wasn’t thin or scruffy, just always hungry) and even ate the stuff we threw on the compost pile.
So my mother placed the rests of the meat on dishes so that she could eat it more comfortable.
well somehow she stayed, got pregnant after a short while and got 3 babycats about 5 month later.
we kept the smallest one (which was and still is afraid of strangers).
I had a cat allergy, and I still have, but it didn’t get worse so that’s ok
our cat’s don’t have real names, but we call the smaller one “rabbit” since she hops away if she sees strangers and the bigger one “house pig” (someone came here and said “this is not a cat, it’s more a kind of house pig”) because she keeps eating everything you give her.
They wouldn’t hear on names anyway. so most of the time we say “the big one” or “the small one”