The Ghost of Our Woodland

The Ghost of Our Woodland

A wildcat mother comforts her kittens upon a bed of packed grass sheltered by the thorns, flowers and berries from within a lattice of bramble repeating endlessly into the forest. In search of food, she leaves her young in pursuit of game, weaving through the royal-crested ferns to scale a cascade of moss-eaten rocks to a summit. Her fur, lit by the pale morning sun, is a painting of ochre and cream. Her eyes filled with the verdant green of the alpine wilderness. The Scottish wildcat stands upon this existential precipice to be pushed to its death by the invisible hand.

It is a necessity that I preface this article with an explanation of the historical and anatomical differences between the Scottish wildcat, Felis silvestris, and the common household cat, Felis catus. The Scottish wildcat is a beast wholly unto itself and can be in no means compared to the domestic shorthair. Unlike our sweet, docile tabbies who live a state of perpetual repose by the fireplace or upon a cushioned sofa, the Scottish wildcat has been carved, from its inception, by the biting winds of the adversity and conditioned by merciless rule of natural law. These very different environmental pressures have produced two very different felines. The domestic cat has thinner, shedding fur, owing to desert-origin, compared to the silvestris’ fur thickened for insulation against the showers and hail granted from our Scottish climate. Wildcats are equipped with both longer legs and broader paws for rambling over mountainous terrain and typically a quarter larger in overall size, with an average female specimen being of equal size to a male domestic shorthair. Our bewhiskered pets possess a tapered, ribbon-like tail that are out-flanked by the wildcat tail; thick, bushy and enringed with black until its end as though it has been dipped into ink. The eye of the domestic cat embodies the various colours of cut gems; the wildcat eye is only of polished emerald.

The wildcat had embarked on its evolutionary path of liberty and adventure over nine-thousand years ago following the deglaciation period of the last Ice Age, supported by remains dated to 9600 to 10050BC in Thatcham in Berkshire corresponding to the time of forest reestablishment in the South of England. This new, unexplored land, recaptured from the retreating ice, beckoned a mass migration of animals to such an extent that this unoccupied isle was suddenly the host of a complex ecosystem, with the wildcat being one of the carnivoran fauna to make enormous gains the wars of succession over the entire island.

If this powerful, sly and skilful animal gifted with a brave heart and adventurous spirit had such a brilliant start, then why are they seemingly absent from our ecosystem? James Ritchie, Scottish naturalist, writes in ‘The Influence of Man on Animal Life in Scotland’, ‘At a time not very remote, [the wildcat] roamed the whole of the mainland, and in earlier days, even found a home on the islands…’ Mr Ritchie then provides a timeline of a century of death that obliterated the population of our national felines, motivated chiefly from the protection of livestock and gamebirds following centuries of deforestation.

The presence of the wildcat has been absent long from the centres of urban development, the cities and suburbs, housing our populations stretching across the central belt of the country. Yet, in the wilds of the surrounding areas and the provincial districts of Scotland, the wildcat had established a period of societal cohabitation to bestow nomenclature upon a variety of local sites once harbouring its presence. This is the case for the land north of the Solway Firth of Dumfries and Galloway which has in its possession places titled as ‘Wild Cat Wood’ and ‘Wildcat Craig’. In Berwickshire remains the legacy of the Felis silvestris with locations under the name of Wulcatt Yett, Cat-Leeburn, and Cat-Cleugh in Roxburghshire.

In 1830, the wildcat was ousted from the border counties north of the Solway Firth, with the final one killed in Berwickshire in 1849. Moving from the far lowlands and north of the central valley of Scotland, the forests at the mouth of the Moray firth fell silent of wildcat mewing in 1830 and 1842 being the death date for Stirlingshire wildcats, with the final two souls of Kincardineshire wildcats joining their fallen feline kin in 1850. The Don Valley eradicated the wildcat in 1862 with Glen Tanar extinguishing their feline flame in 1875. A decade of wildcat persecution from 1776 to 1786 by Braemar parishes resulted in the deaths of 44 wildcats. Far from the light of man within Scotland’s areas of heavy forest cover, the wildcat found no refuge; the trapping and subsequent death of a wildcat in 1857 ended the Perthshire breed; the removal of the last wildcat from Loch Awe occurred in 1864 and with Inverness-shire losing the Felis silvestris in 1873. James Ritchie writes, ‘…and now they have been exterminated throughout the whole of that mountainous country, even to the wilds of Rannoch.’ These efforts were not undertaken by the process of accident and error, but by active encouragement from landed gentry. Financial rewards were offered in exchange for wildcat heads on the estate of the Duchess of Sutherland, culminating in the mass killing of 901 animals divided between wildcats, pine martens and other woodland inhabitants. James Ritchie finishes this sobering chapter with a morose conclusion, ‘…the Wildcat in Scotland has proceeded rapidly on the path to extermination and there is little likelihood of it ever regaining lost ground…’

Writing in 1920, James Ritchie composed the book without the knowledge about the approaching land reforms that would grip our country and the monumental effect this reformation would have for wildcat populations. The creation of the Forestry Commission saw the replanting of thousands of woodland acres which increased the coverage of land suitable for accommodating the wildcat. The economic fallout from the First World War caused the decline of hunting as a pastime which lessened the demand for strict control and protective provisions being placed upon the game to shield them from the claws of our ferocious predator. Combined, these developments caused a rebirthing of wildcat numbers to levels unseen for centuries. It very much was a proliferation of feline life, with these apex predators regaining ground as far south as the central belt, where they reigned at healthy levels for three decades spanning the 1950s to the 1980s, according to field studies concluded in 1991 by Nigel Easterbee.

1Again, the same question must be asked; if there was such a success story, why is our land bereft of wildcats? Despite their population explosion, there was a lack of account for the influence posed by the domestic shorthairs now present in the country in ever-greater numbers. In the age of the glacier with its infinite winter, the Felis catus was not even in existence, with its Egyptian ancestors not to court the hearts of humans for at least 5000 years after Felis silvestris set their green eyes towards the white of Dover. The tabby arrived on these pebbled shores in the Iron Age at the earliest period, shown from a 1979 discovery of kitten bones at an archaeological site by Robert Harcourt in Dorset. A consequence of clearing the forests during that same historical chapter was the retreating of the wildcat to the sparsely-populated regions of this island along with its gradual drop in numbers. The future expansions in the industries of agriculture and of urbanisation led to an increase

Despite being the root cause of wildcats’ devastation, persecution of the medieval and Victorian variety appears to have been left in those bygone times. It is totally unthinkable in our society to permit the hunting of critically endangered animals and a scandalous uproar is generated when even common species are targets of pleasureful hunting or culling campaigns. From my own personal research, I have not found a single example of even a trap clasping its steel jaws around the limbs of a wildcat. With their sightings being seldom, there would be no economic motivation for huntsmen to venture off in into the commanding highland landscape to spend days in search for such an elusive creature. Incidents of wildcat hunting appears to be confined solely to the history books and it would be futile to engage in campaigns against it.

In actuality, it is the embrace of the Felis catus that has led to the Felis silvestris’ peril. This genetic dissolution is not the only way our household pets endanger the wildcat, but the domestic shorthairs themselves acting as a vector of disease. Similar to the Europeans arriving upon the American continent, with their mere presence being a bioterrorist threat to the native populations, the contact of wild and domestic cats exposes the Felis silvestris, the possessor of the weaker immune system, to feline leukaemia and feline HIV of which they have no natural defence. The populations of the old world had survived the throes of the black death which by the time it had naturalised within the European immune systems when contact was made with the civilisations of the Americas who had no prior experience. This is comparable to the wild and domestic cat disease-transfer occurring when they meet. The Felis catus lived a pliable existence accompanying humans throughout history, experiencing an armoury of disease and the poverty from within pestilence festers. These unfortunate circumstances had pressured their species to develop an appropriately robust immunology to lay waste to very same micro-organisms that now cripple the Felis silvestris, who is experiencing these outbreaks for the first time after a history of immersion within the pristine gales, the lucid stream and the scented flowers of the mountain.

The situation of genetic absorption has worsened to such an extent that the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Cat Specialist Group had released a 2019 report ruling that Scottish wildcats live in a state of natural unviability, with the final survivors exhibiting evident degrees of hybridisation after crossing with feral domestic cat species. Pet Food Manufacturers Association provided a 2016 estimation of 17% of British households live with a cat and the national number population of domestic cats reaching 590, 000 domestic cats in Scotland alone. Thirty wildcats dotted throughout the wilds of the highlands pale in comparison.

Another pressure we can now turn our attention to is the deforestation of the Scottish wildcats’ last remaining habitats for the purpose of enterprise. Aberdeenshire is home to the wildcat haven, Clashindarroch Forest. A conservation group sharing the saccharine title, Wildcat Haven, undertakes the support and encouragement of wildcat populations living there. From their camera footage, the group is able to champion that this forest is home to over a third of the last-remaining pure Scottish wildcats, counting thirteen cats in total. Each specimen is held to especially strict standards of purity set by Wildcat Haven themselves as to not muddy the waters with the inclusion of part-domestic individuals, so their judgement is to be weighted in gold. However, despite the presence of a fertile, viable wildcat population clustered amongst the wilds of Aberdeen, the reaction from the Scottish government and other appropriate authorities could not have been more placid.

The Felis silvestris has been left out in the cold winds of indifference, with the prioritising of commerce over our national cat. Forestry Enterprise Scotland, indirectly operated by the Scottish Government, manages Clashindarroch and has overseen the development of a skiing operation, interlocking trails, and logging operations with continual tree felling to supply the softwood market. A webpage operated by the Forestry and Land Commission states that Clashindarroch is ‘Best known for its cross-country ski trails’ with immediate contradiction by the surrounding wildcat headlines and imagery furnishing the rest of the accompanying results. This same webpage makes no reference to the wildcats in any way shape or form or even an attempt to package their presence under the guise of a tourist experience.

The Forestry Commission’s strategy of conscience omission failed following the outcry generated by a Change.org petition that shone a light onto the expense of the forest’s feline residents caused by the commercial pursuits occurring in Clashindarroch Forest and the subsequent mediastorm occurring thereafter. The Forestry Commission then created a blog entry on another arm of their website addressing this outrage and negative press. The entry acknowledges the presence of the logging operations and states that Clashindarroch is a ‘sustainable working forest’ and that the wildcats ‘can move to a quiet place’. The Commission continues on to say logging that is currently underwent within Clashindarroch Forest involves only one percent of the forest itself and that the process of tree-felling provides food for the cats with the debris housing voles and mice on which they can feast. Wildcat Haven hit back at these platitudes insinuating that that the commission has, within a long-term plan, a desire to see 60% of the forest felled in the next two decades. Wildcat Haven have stated that such action would cause copious amounts of distress to the wildcats which can have devastating behavioural effects like kitten abandonment, which would render such commercial activity illegal, as outlined by Scottish Natural Heritage, a public institution which is supposed to act as the guardian of Scotland’s natural world.

This may just be a typical spat between a collection of companies hungry for profit and ever-suspicious ecology campaigners, but I do believe that there is a kernel of truth contained within Wildcat Haven’s accusations of ever-encroaching demands by the Forestry Commission. ‘Scotland's Forestry Strategy 2019–2029’, published by the Scottish Government, who, I repeat, operate that same Forestry Commission permitting the commercialisation of Clashindarroch Forest, provides a list of the number of both animate and botanic life they propose to have distinct association with the Scottish forests, ‘257 moths, 177 vascular plants, 172 lichen, 77 bryophytes, 59 birds, 6 bats’. There is no mention of the wildcat. An animal that this country has been the only possessor of for hundreds of years, with its name even being typically prefaced with ‘Scottish’, fails to be included in a list for animals distinctly endemic to the forests of Scotland. This absence stirs only suspicion within me, which is heightened following a reveal from a freedom-of-information request made by Wildcat Haven against the Forestry Commission. This statement was sent by John Thompson, Forestry Commission district manager, to senior Forestry Commission Scotland staff:

"We have two very significantly-scaled wind farm proposals in the pipeline for Clashindarroch... they are probably below the radar for most at the moment. Significant clearfelling is likely... I will be surprised if the presence of Scottish wildcat does not become a significant issue. I flag this simply to ensure that we do not create any hostages to fortune regarding the scale of our felling operations."

The last remaining bastion of wildcat presence is now under siege for the pursuit of wealth, with Thompson referring to these innocent felines are ‘hostages to fortune’. We find ourselves at a crosspoint regarding the fate of these wonderful beings. The first is to allow the wildcats to simply die out and accept a hard truth against insurmountable odds. I understand that it will be a monumental undertaking, but nothing worth doing is easy. History is on our side. Wildcat populations rose from the grave just over a century ago despite an atmosphere of despondence preceding the advent of their proliferation. From the abyss, wildcat numbers flourished and were able to thrive as a valued part with a prominent role in the landscape of the Scottish nation as reward for the concentrated effort by multiple institutions. It happened and, in theory, can be repeated.

Baring my heart, I must confess that I am having an incredibly difficult time envisioning a future for our wildcats. This chance of another revival has already been tried and, unfortunately, is looking to end in failure. The Scottish Wildcat Conservation Action plan is project begun in 2013 and, according to the booklet available on the Scottish Natural Heritage website, has the principle aim of its terminal year of 2019 to secure ‘…at least five stable populations of Scottish wildcat in the wild.’ Referencing the statement released this same year, the International Union for the Conservation of Nature’s branded of Scottish wildcats as a lost cause, it can be concluded that the project has been ineffective in halting the demise of the Felis silvestris. I had written to Scottish Natural Heritage to discuss the plan and the problems that prevented it from achieving its primary goal. I received the following response from Martin Gaywood, Species Project Manager, who informed me that in light of this pessimistic classification, the Scottish Wildcat Conservation Action plan has embarked on a new path:

‘‘A main focus of the SWA [Scottish Wildcat Action] work was an assessment of the status and quality of wildcats in the ‘Priority Areas’ and more widely. It was this data that the IUCN [International Union of the Conservation of Nature] Cat Specialist Group used for their review, and which highlighted the poor status of the resident, wild population. As a result, we have switched the focus of new activities from in situ conservation of wild-living cats, to working with partners on a new programme of ex situ conservation breeding and the release of animals in a prepared site (most likely the Cairngorms Connect area). The aim will be to try to re-establish a viable population, which will serve as a foundation for future phases of restoration work. This immediate, new phase (called SWAforLIFE) is expected to start autumn 2019 and will run until 2025 At the moment the SWA project team and partners are working hard on the final reporting for the SWA process, due to be completed March 2020. This will then link and feed into the new SWAforLIFE phase of work which it will slightly overlap with.’’

This breeding-release programme will not be without limitation. The International Union for the Conservation of Nature continued that the only way these wild populations could become sustainable is through population augmentation with more wild specimens, either from captive breeding programmes like Gaywood has stated or by the importation of wildcats from the European continent. The first method faces common issues typical of ‘captive raising to wild release’ arrangements such as the difficulty involved in keeping the spirit of the animal untamed and unsoftened by human influence, along with the uphill struggle that these individuals face upon their immediate release; adapting to a wholly wild and unconstrained environment that is never truly replicable in captivity. The latter method is held down by a problem specific to the Felis silvestris. Since the post-Ice Age deluge that filled the English Channel and thus permanently flooding the continental land bridge, the wildcats present in Scotland have adapted to our specific ecosystem with its own environmental pressures, meaning that any of its continental cousins arriving in the country will fail to seamlessly weave themselves into our ecosystem. In any event, the same hybridisation will occur again unless the feral wildcat populations are addressed. Another burgeoning wildcat population would meld with the omnipresent hordes of the domestic cat. Critics to wildcat re-establishment plans would rightfully draw attention to this. Why waste public funds if they eventually face genetic dissolution? A common suggestion is to secure the wildcat as an animal of natural liberty and freedom is a state-backed campaign promoting responsible feline ownership. A campaign ‘Is Your Cat A Supercat?’ was launched by species preservation group, Scottish Wildcat Action, in 2017, aiming to encourage the uptake of procedures such as micro-chipping, neutering and vaccination and their application to household cats. Roo Campbell, Priority Areas Manager for the group, explained the reasoning for the campaign:

“If all domestic cats were Supercats, it would give wildcats the best chance of survival. We know a few wildcats are still out there, but they face serious threats. To increase their numbers, it’s really important that they have more wildcat kittens and not the hybrid kittens born from mating with domestic cats.”

In spite of the good intent behind such a campaign, we only have to look towards Australia to see why a similar programme, Catch-NeuterRelease, CNR, is a wholly futile effort that fails to yield palpable results. Throughout the centuries following the Australian introduction of the domestic shorthair in the 1700s, cat populations have grown like a frenzied plant; constricting all other life present on the enormous island, with estimations that the feline removes two billion animals from the Australian ecosystem each year. This is an annual natural disaster which shows no signs of slowing and had prompted investigation into finding a solution. CNR programmes were discarded shortly into discussions for several reasons.

Viability of CNR programmes is thoroughly disproven by Felicia Nutter’s study, ‘Evaluation of a Trap-Neuter-Return Management Program for Feral Cat Colonies: Population Dynamics, Home Ranges, and Potentially Zoonotic Diseases’, on the basis of practicality. The population density of Scotland is sixty-five people per square-kilometre, but in the parched flatlands of Australia, this drops to three. There is no viable way for all of the free-roaming cats to be caught considering the sparse coverage of people living in that country. Human resources are stretched too thin across to large a surface area for effective collectivized efforts of feline pest control. She had also found that the minimum rate of neutering to induce population decline within feral cat populations was 80%, meaning that if such a programme was to be institutionalised, an extremely rigorous operation with extraordinary discipline would be required to achieve sterilisation of eighty cats out of every lot of one-hundred. The futility in using CNR programmes is emphasised when the high sterilisation rate is only effective on the condition that no additional cats are admitted into the population. This can occur incredibly easily through lost pets who eventually come to join these vagrant cat communes and, if unneutered, nullify all progress of the programme. Cats breed multiple times throughout the year, resulting in the mother-cat birthing a sizable kitten litter each time. The cost of CNR campaigns is compounded by another finding of Nutter’s study being the necessity of repeated vaccinations that are continually required to replete a cat’s immunity to disease. Feral cats are rarely recaptured, ultimately causing the regulation of disease resistance under these programmes to be a vain effort, with the added cost of a single round of vaccinations amounting to nothing. Confining Catch-Neuter-Release programmes to irrelevancy was the discovery that even with these unrealistically fortunate and theoretical conditions, the feral cat populations would finally reach extinction at the end of a thirteen-year period. Remembering Australia’s aim of ecological conservation, this wait, in excess of a decade, simply cannot be accepted. These conclusions would be met by us here in Scotland. Yes, we have a higher population distribution which may influence the success of a CNR programme, but I remind you that there are now less

The deadly stratagem used in Australia is a sausage envenomed with chemicals derived from plantlife native to the Australian environment. This method is proving a success, with consumption of the bait by the wildlife having no ill effect due to the million-year evolutionary fencing match between the Australian fauna and the flora. Being a newcomer to that part of the world, the domestic cat possesses no natural immunity to the botanical poisons and promptly succumb to unconsciousness before death. Unfortunately, these measures fail in being a solution for our predicament. The aims for both situations are fundamentally different. In Australia, the aim is the indiscriminate killing of feral cats, as each individual feline has the propensity to kill hundreds of native faunae. Here in Scotland, our aim involves the conscience separation between wild and domestic cat, the veneration of one and the vilification of the other. The same biosynthetic evolutionary path is shared by both the wildcat and the domestic. Bait infused with any toxin would cause the mortal end for either species. This is without mentioning the huge amounts of pushback from the public and interest groups from across the political spectrum which would be incensed by the decision to kill live, but innocent, animals with a profile of being a loving pet. Such outcry is even deafening in Australia, where the campaign can arguably easier to understand and support. The context of Scottish wildcat preservation is based on much shakier ground, with the main propositional argument being notions of tradition and appeals to emotion.

In the event of wildcat population transplantation or the introduction of breeding programmes elsewhere on this island, the dilution of the wildcat would still persist. Such plans are being put forward in Cornwall and Devon with the rationale being that the wildcats can live well amongst hedgerows and the edge of farmers’ fields. I completely reject this project. Addressing the arguments that wildcats can live near farms, farmers typically employ several mouser-cats to control rodent populations. These cats will inevitably mate with the introduced wildcats. Mousers are scarcely neutered early in life, the reasoning being that if a cat is efficient in catching mice, the farmer will breed that same cat to ensure a second generation of skilful mouse-hunters. If all farmland cats were neutered the breeding for cats with an affinity for hunting an impossibility which is why I believe any law of mandatory neutering for cats in areas undergoing wildcat reintroductions would never be accepted. Not only is there short-sightedness present in the proposal of a Cornish-Devon wildcat programme, a Pet Food Manufacturers Association report, ‘Cat Population Detail 2016’, labelled the South-Western region as having the highest rate of household cats compared to anywhere else in the United Kingdom. The entire project is doomed to failure and, if greenlit, will be colossal waste of resources.

Coming naturally like the moon eclipsing the sun, this combination of dwindling numbers, commercial pursuit and hybridisation are immovable obstacles blocking the wildcats’ future. I propose a new direction for their future. We must accept our failure in conserving our feline species and begin efforts to make the best of this horrid situation. There are two options that we can take as a national pursuit. The first is a compromise between the desires to retain the living specimen of the Felis silvestris and the contemporary world where it finds itself. This is the creation of a new domestic breed of cat, the ‘Silvestris’; a scientific blend of cats both wild and domestic, crafted by the skilful hands of expert cat-fanciers. I have highlighted how hybridisation is the main diagnosis of death for our wildcats. For this to happen, viable offspring must be being produced by these mixed pairings proving that the endeavour of breed creation is viable. Also, it is not too late for the project either, as despite there only being thirty pure wildcats living free in the country today, there are hundreds being bred in captivity. These captive wildcats serve as a deep reservoir of genetic information for use in the synthesis of this Silvestris breed. With cross-collaborative agreement on the impending death of the wildcat’s traditional image of a moving shadow of the forest, a new breed can be created to stand by the side of the Scottish Fold on the podium of recognised Scottish cat breeds.

My proposal of the Silvestris breed of domestic cat is a proven possibility and not an unrealistic dream. Establishment of a cat breed hybridised between wild and domestic cats has been done before with the Bengal breed and its history can be replicated for the development of a domestic cat painted from the genes of the Felis silvestris. The Bengal is a cat experiencing great popularity, owing to its zest for life, attentiveness, and lithe form enmarbled with black and gold, coated in a pearlescent sheen. The origins of this breed can be traced back to 1970s America, where a woman, Jean Mill, had ownership over both a standard black domestic-shorthair and an Asian leopard-cat brought out from within the jungles of Southern Asia. To her surprise they produced kittens, who captured the attention of pastime feline-fancier, William Engler. From the love between an Asian leopard-cat and his harem of domestic shorthairs, sixty Bengal kittens where born by 1975. In the 1980s, Mill adopted these kittens, resuming the breeding of those with the paired gifts of a leopard coat and a domesticated temperament. Finally recognized in 1983 by the United States of America’s ultimate authority on all things feline, The International Cat Association, the breed was further established by Mill’s financial efforts and appeals to breeders.

A welcome surprise during the Bengal’s breeding programme was the appearance of a pearl lustre upon its fur. The Bengal is the only cat in possession of this ethereal phenotypical trait and shows the potential for the innumerable features that may reveal themselves is the Felis silvestris were to be admitted into a domestication programme. This is a real possibility, considering Hannah O’Reagan’s and Andrew Kitchener’s scientific study into the effects of fox farming upon the zoomorphic character of the red fox, Vulpes vulpes. They had found that unusual fur colour, morphology and behaviour, absent from the fox’s wild history, had manifested within the descending litters, concluding:

‘‘The rate of change in the morphological traits of red foxes resulting from artificial selection carried out on fur farms considerably exceeds the rate of change resulting from natural selection… Long-term artificial selection aiming at genetic improvement of traits related to fur quality, animal size, and pelt length has led to the increasing differences in terms of the exterior and body dimensions between the farm foxes and their wild ancestors… Some behavioral and morphological changes (elongation of the lower jaw, elongation of face skull, widened skulls, shortened snouts, floppy ears, curly tails, emotional expression of positive responses to human) appeared together with delayed development of normal traits in domesticated silver fox.’’

Following the story of the Bengal, whose form and beauty still elicits the wilds of Capricorn, this Silvestris breed would reflect its highland heritage. Ideally, the breed would still retain an overwhelming likeness to the Scottish wildcat, being a complete mirror image with its larger, muscular body wearing a thick fur coat styled with striped ochre tones and its club-shaped tail. This authentic wildcat image would be perfectly complemented with the amicable temperament brought forth from the breeds domestic heritage during the breeding process. This history of the Bengal can be easily mirrored with the creation of a domestic hybrid merged with genetic fabric of the Scottish wildcat.

‘‘Bengals make wonderful pets. They are very adaptable and are just as happy as a devoted companion to a single person as they are as a family pet. They are highly intelligent, alert, curious and lively and will play like kittens into old age. … Bengals are affectionate cats and enjoy human company.’’

It would be unreasonable to suggest that this Silvestris breed would be a docile lap-cat, but I do not believe that a cat being lively is a negative. In dog breeding, there exists a classification of ‘working’ dog hallmarked by high intelligence, attentiveness and boundless energy. Ownership of this type is usually confined to the countryside or by those in possession of great stretches of land or copious amounts of free time in order to placate the dogs’ physical and cognitive demands. There is no issue when some dog breeds are seen as appropriate for certain living arrangements and inappropriate for others due to their biological make-up. Why is a placid, soft demeanour thought of as the only disposition suitable for a cat? Different breeds of animal have different requirements and there is nothing wrong with this, whether the animal happens to be feline or canine. A domestic breed of predominant wildcat heritage can simply be classed as a ‘country’ breed of cat with recommended living requirements like those of most working dog breeds.

There is one fate we have not addressed. Let us assume the mind of a pessimist and envision a future where my domestication proposals are rejected and there was no funnelling of resources to stop the erasure of the wildcat from our national bestiary. In this tragic timeline, I suggest that the entirety of the Scottish nation enters a state of mourning and begins a year of wildcat commemoration. The purposes of a commemorative year would be the admission of our collective failure to safeguard the existence of our feline species, over whom we should have fulfilled our role as their benevolent caretaker. We have been the only country on this windswept isle with the wildcat on our land and must bear full responsibility in accepting our incompetence and indifference along with accounting for our historical maltreatment towards these innocent cats. During the commemoration, we will effectively aim to right the wrongs of our history in relevance to the Felis silvestris. The commemoration would involve the open display of feline imagery in the form of statues, embellishments to buildings, real open affection and celebration of the Scottish wildcat from all the houses of our society with the full endorsement from the Scottish government. Every town and city should be festooned with the feline form of the Scottish wildcat, engraved upon building facades, the construction of murals, and the erection of statues of gold and bronze to mark the passing of this great feline race.

As a nation, our greed and disinterest has sentenced the Scottish wildcat to its death through homelessness and genetic atomisation. Like the fading crescent moon, the Felis silvestris is waning. We can no longer entertain fantasises of an ever-perfect future were nothing goes wrong, that the wildcats’ will suddenly escape, unscathed, from their impending demise to live on stronger than ever. There is no public appetite for real ecological conservation or desire to supply the demands such campaigns command. The options that remain are either incredibly demanding of money, time, resources, exhibit deep unpopularity, are ethically ambiguous or tragically morbid. Yet, this situation was borne from our decades-long deferment of action which caused all the other preferable scenarios to crumble away. For this, our national consciousness deserves to be inflicted with hauntings of great guilt and even greater shame. These options, as difficult as they are to choose, are the final chance for us to save these wildcats in their existential struggle, as if we were to breathe into glowing embers to give life to a hot and vigorous fire. For centuries we have witnessed the wildcats existing as orbs of soft, glowing light on the edge of the faded horizon and banished to the far reaches of our minds. Now, their luminous ghosts stand before us, urging action.

Composed by,

Maurice Alexander, Undergraduate of Business Management