by Maria Giulia Checchi –  

A warm blanket of light on your fur tells you that the rigid Scottish winter has now transformed into a well-earned spring, where all that slumbered in the cold months comes at once to life under the watchful eye of the sun. Bumblebee queens buzz in search of a place to start their hive, the birch trees around my enclosure generate a fresh shade with their new leaves, and the songs of long forgotten birds fill the air together with the smell of flowers. All very poetic to a human, maybe, but us wildcats experience more in this reawakening.  

We hear the cries of newborn rodents playing in the grass, and we wait, eager, for one of them to make the fatal mistake of entering our domain. Birds dart about with twigs in their beaks and passion in their hearts, and we follow their every move, chattering aloud in imitation of their calls. The far first steps of a leveret, timidly making its way out of the den, might elude most, but we trace it with our noses and keep tracks of its location for future reference. Yet while our blood yearns for a spring hunt and the feeling of a struggling prey beneath our claws, I am just as content with the current situation: food being brought readily to my enclosure every day and lots of leisure time to ponder my surroundings.  

The high beam just above the door is my chosen spot for such activity. Here the surface is flat enough to provide a comfortable seat, and the spot sits below the sun all morning and for most of the afternoon. It is also a perfect vantage point to wherever my eyes fancy their gaze: the skies crossed by raptors up front, the woodland on the left, the path on my right, and other wildcats, if I ever stop daydreaming of being the only master of this vast territory, right behind me. And if my vision gets weary, nothing beats a nap in the sun cradled by the rhythm of breeze-swept branches. That, at least, until my father erupts into yet another of his tone-deaf mating calls.  

When it comes to wildcat breeding at the field centre, Brora and Fergus are the undisputed rulers, having produced multiple kittens throughout their career. I too am one of their children. And as purity is higher in the offsprings compared to the parent, I also fancy myself better suited for the role of wildcat than they are. At the very least I am not as docile as my mother, nor as aggressively feral as my father, but a balanced in-between; treating keepers with majestic indifference and the occasional hiss from above.  

Today is the day of indifference. A keeper walks in, yellow container in hand, and starts the same routine around my enclosure. So accustomed I am with this that I can keep track of their movements with my eyes closed in blissful dozing, waiting for the moment when I can come down for an undisturbed meal. Now it checks the perimeter for remains, now it refills my bowl with fresh water, now it cleans my litter pit, and now it starts the same exact process for Maree. She is my neighbour, my partner when the doors separating us are removed, and the mother of my first and so far only kit: a beautiful young wildcat called Rowan. Once my parents retire, the two of us will inherit the mantle of Aigas’ prime breeding pair. Both above 90% of purity, we will build a next generation one step further from domestic cats than we are, until our kind rules once more the woodland and moors of Scotland, and breeding programmes will be made redundant by their numbers.  

This I ponder, high on my beam, as the sun briefly disappears behind a cloud and the keeper moves on to the next enclosure. I rise, stretching my front paws first and then the hinds, and then again the front while moving my neck up and down. Maree darts past the fence that separates us; a fat chick in her watery mouth. I think I’ll come down for a snack.  

Profile: Broch is a 5-year-old wildcat part of the Aigas Wildcat Breeding Programme. He is the son of Brora and Fergus, and parent of Rowan together with partner Maree. He likes spending quality time by himself and can often be found up high on a beam either snoozing or taking in his surroundings.  

Want to help us looking after Broch and the other resident wildcats? You can adopt a wildcat on the Aigas Field Centre website or make a donation to the Breeding Programme.  

words by Maria Giulia Checchi, photography by Jacob New