My husband and I moved into our first house together, an Edwardian cottage, in June 1993. After a few months, we thought, wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a couple of kittens?
A neighbour mentioned that a local farm had a litter. A few days later, these two little creatures were delivered by the farmer. We didn’t choose them. They simply arrived.
Two little souls
Two little souls emerged from their cardboard box. Tiny. So tiny. We thought they were around six weeks old, far too young to have left their mother, but here we were, completely and utterly in love.
We welcomed Calvin, a long-haired black kitten, and his brother Hobbes, a short-haired blue-grey boy. Martin and I were huge fans of Bill Watterson’s Calvin and Hobbes, so their names seemed inevitable.
Hobbes was curious and adventurous. Calvin was cautious and spent his first week barely leaving the skirting board. He was painfully timid.
“Mealtimes were a different story.”
Calvin would sit beside his brother and inhale his own food before swiftly moving on to Hobbes’s. His approach seemed to be: this is mine, and yours is ours.
I had always had pets as a child and formed devoted bonds with my guinea pigs, of which there were many over the years. Martin had always lived with cats. Although I adored animals and wildlife, I had never shared my life with a cat.
My bond with our two kittens was instant. I adored them, and I was fascinated by how incredibly different these two little boys were in character and in the way they settled into and navigated our house.
Hobbes became the explorer, with Calvin as his close-by accomplice.
We soon discovered that Calvin was hugely motivated by food. At around eight weeks old, he somehow found his way onto the kitchen worktops and munched through three and a half enormous sausages. I had thought they were perfectly safe, but the force was strong in Calvin.
Afterwards, his little tummy, heavy with the spoils of his discovery, practically dragged along the floor.
Our first Christmas revealed that having a Christmas tree might prove tricky. We found Hobbes at the very top, befriending the fairy, while batting the glass baubles from the branches became the most marvellous game.
That was the last Christmas tree we ever had.
As time went on, I wanted to understand more: their language, their postures and the curious fact that they often vocalised with Martin and me, but rarely with one another.
I signed up for a feline behaviour course and began learning how to see the world from their perspective.
At the same time, my work as a graphic designer was developing. I moved from a design consultancy to an internet technology company. I joined as a designer, but what really drew me in was the opportunity to understand the technology behind the web and learn to code.
My boss taught me to code, and I practised and practised.
One day he said, “You need a project, something of your own that will let you learn, experiment and play with code. Have you got any ideas?”
I did.
My love of cats, and my growing fascination with feline behaviour, provided the answer.
In the spring of 2000, CraftyCat.co.uk was born.
Crafty Cat
The first Crafty Cat had photographs, drawings, stories and a behaviour forum where people could share their questions and experiences.
The BBC linked to the site and, over time, it grew into a thriving little community. This was long before social media became part of everyday life, so discovering a group of people brought together by their love of cats felt rather special.
Two members met through the forum, fell in love and eventually married. Martin and I were invited to their wedding. Who knew that Crafty Cat would one day play Cupid?
For many years, the site continued in much the same way, and I added stories and updates whenever I could.
A wider feline world
At the end of 2017, another chapter began when I started leading photography workshops at The Big Cat Sanctuary.
It is an extraordinary place, devoted to the rescue, education and conservation of some of the world’s most endangered cats. Spending time there gave me a new perspective and the privilege of forming close bonds with these precious animals.
Earlier in 2026, I stepped back from leading the workshops. I now volunteer with the keeper team, continuing to spend time with the cats while supporting a cause I love deeply.
Between my work at the Sanctuary and life as a freelance graphic designer, photographer and illustrator, there was little time left to develop Crafty Cat. The site remained, but for a while it waited quietly in the background.
Our own feline family continued to shape our lives. After losing Calvin and Hobbes, we went on to share our home with Maine Coons—at one point, seven of them.
Hearing them thunder through the house like a herd of rhinos was quite something to behold. They may have shared a breed, but each was entirely distinct in character, personality and their way of experiencing the world.
Returning to my Crafty Cat roots
And now, here we are in 2026.
With a little more time, I have decided to return to my Crafty Cat roots.
The technology has changed. The design has changed. The cats who first inspired it are no longer beside me, while others have arrived and made their own indelible marks upon our lives.
But the original impulse to understand cats more deeply and share my love, thoughts and discoveries has remained intact.
The first Crafty Cat looked very different from the one you see today. The web was very different too. Yet the idea at its heart was much the same: the more closely we observe cats, the more there is to understand.
Crafty Cat began with Calvin and Hobbes, but it has been shaped by every cat I have known since and by the people who understand that sharing a life with a cat means learning another way of seeing.
That is where Crafty Cat begins again: with a little history, a little mischief and the belief that there is always more to notice.