This is the story of Katarina, of how a small Sicilian cat brought Catsnip, Oscar and Elke together, to the rescue. Above all, it is the story of Sadie and her determination to save the blind feline.

Francavilla is a typical small Sicilian town, approximately ten miles inland from the coastal resort of Taormina, with spectacular views. Although much of the town is now fairly modern, you can still see signs of former times, with the ruins of the one-time castle overlooking the inhabitants, and the old winding streets that evoke images of its medieval past. Nearby is the famous Alcantara Gorge, where an impressive torrent of water rushes below vertical lava cliffs. Located on the north slopes of Mount Etna, the river is one of the few in Sicily that flows year round. Several thousand years ago, its path was blocked by a large lava flow from the volcano’s slopes. The cold water quickly cooled the lava, which resulted in its crystallising and forming the unique rocky columns. Over the next few thousand years, the river carved a path through those columns and resulted in the gorge.

If you like to explore, there are numerous trails where you can hike along the top of the gorge. And if you are looking to cool off, you can relax at Gorge Beach. The easy way to get down into the gorge is to take the lift; for the more adventurous there are stairs. There is a gorge trail that follows the river upstream and offers wonderful views from the top. It takes you through the botanical gardens and citrus groves, where you can sit and stare. Here you can gaze into the heart of the gorge and the waterfalls from the beach, so don’t be afraid to explore. The water is advertised as being cold but in the heat of the summer it is very refreshing. No wonder it is a popular spot with locals during the scorching Sicilian summers.

Sadie and her boyfriend Eddie had arrived here to stay for a night or two on a farm, the so-called agriturismo. From the 1950s and continuing through the 1970s, small-scale farming in Italy came under threat. Many farmers abandoned their land to search for work in larger towns. But Italians value highly the traditions and produce of small-scale food manufacturers, and, by 1985, a law was passed defining agriturismo. Many abandoned buildings and estates were restored, some for holiday homes, and many for this kind of tourism. It allowed the small farmer to augment the income from the farm, and for holidaymakers to sample the bounty of a rural life in Italy.

It all seemed idyllic and very relaxing until the couple noticed that one of the farm cats seemed to be bumping into things and falling down steps.

In July 2014, Sadie and Eddie were on a road trip in Sicily when they first met Katarina. Sadie recalled: ‘We had stopped overnight at a farm in the mountains about five miles from the nearest town. Kat walked into our apartment outhouse door, literally. She then fell down the steps and tried again to navigate the door.

‘At that point I didn’t realise that she was totally blind, but it was clear she was struggling. One of her eyes was protruding dangerously out of the socket, and the other was opaque and deformed. She was a mess and I was horrified by the gruesome state of her face. Her tabby fur was matted and she was worryingly thin and fragile. I distinctly remember her stumbling and falling down two or three stairs in such a pitiful way that made me think she was beyond help. I would have rather been responsible for ending her life than to leave her stumbling frantically around in darkness, searching for crumbs.

‘To my surprise, she was remarkably affectionate, trusting and confident, and quite boldly came into our room demanding food. She didn’t appear to be fearful, of anything or anyone. She had a sort of brazen confidence, despite the fact that she was at such a disadvantage. She purred when I stroked her and was happy to be picked up and cuddled. All of the other feral cats kept their distance and hissed when you attempted to approach them.

‘She slept outside our door that night and greeted us in the morning. We stayed for two more nights at that farm and the cat stayed with us, sleeping outside alone on a chair. She seemed very vulnerable out there, curled up around herself, ants crawling around her face and with local dogs patrolling the area.

‘It was then that I contacted Catsnip to get some advice and enquire about a local vet. I didn’t realise at that point to what extent I would have to commit to this little cat and how many people would become instrumental in her journey.’

It was that summer of 2014 when I first heard from Sadie: ‘I have found a stray kitten, which has something wrong with her eyes. I believe she is blind and suffering. One eye seems to be missing but I’m not sure, as she is a mess. If this is something that she can be helped with, I would like to bring her back to the UK. However, I am really struggling to find ways to fly her back with me. She is very young and friendly; just arrived in our bedroom and will not leave.’

I gave her Oscar La Manna’s telephone number and he suggested they take the cat to his surgery, which raised the first dilemma: Sadie and Eddie were due to leave the following day. We conferred on the phone.

Said Sadie: ‘The only thing we can do is to drive through on our way to Syracuse and drop her off at around 11.30am. My concern is that I would be placing responsibility on Oscar, and then leaving – however, if you believe that the cat will be cared for, we will keep her inside and definitely bring her tomorrow. I am afraid that she will need hefty medical attention, and that I will not be around to administer that. If the cat can be saved, then I am willing to make arrangements to bring her to London and have her live her life with us.’

Sadie called Oscar and made valiant attempts to explain all this but, as she said, it might have been lost in translation. However, she wasn’t going to give up.

‘We have fallen a bit in love with her. If he is willing to do all required medical treatment, microchipping and blood-work, I will do whatever needed to get her to London safely and quickly. Or, if he believes it would be better, he could take her back to the farm where she lives, but these are both big asks to a total stranger and it’s difficult to communicate with him as my Italian is terrible.’

The cat had now firmly ensconced herself with her new admirers and was tucking in to unaccustomed goodies, although Sadie was still very concerned about the state of one of her eyes. It seemed to her it would have to be removed.

As she relates: ‘So, with Kat in a box, and the Italian farmers looking very bemused as to my apparent kidnapping of a blind feral cat, we drove to the local vet, who was fantastically kind and understanding.’

Indeed, on that Friday morning, I imagined the surprise of their hosts as Sadie and Eddie loaded the little cat into their car. Later, I had a call from the surgery: Sadie was again struggling with her Italian and asked if I could speak to Oscar. I could hear Eddie’s voice in the background and there seemed to be a problem. Briefly, Oscar explained that to treat the cat and do all the necessary preparation to obtain her pet passport would cost around 1,000 euros. Sadie and Eddie were taken aback; they had never envisaged it would cost so much and didn’t have that kind of money with them.

Oscar came back on the phone. The vet sounded baffled. So now what was to happen to the cat? She certainly needed an operation.

We agreed they would pay for this and I would send a donation to cover some of the rest of her treatment. The cat’s future was left in the balance.

Back home in London, Sadie couldn’t put ‘her’ Sicilian cat out of her mind. How would the blind feline manage if she were returned to the farm? And what was the alternative? She tormented herself thinking about the little cat’s future, as did I. What was to happen next?

Wrote Sadie:

At that point neither Sadie nor I realised what this decision would involve. I was also pondering whether bringing the cat to England was the best plan. How feral was she? Yes, Sadie had said she was affectionate but how strong were her links to her territory on the farm and her bonding with the other cats? Sadie had also told me she had a companion cat. How important was this to her?

I pointed this out: ‘I think you have done something wonderful in allowing this cat to have treatment and am transferring funds to Oscar’s account, this evening, but perhaps it would be better for her to return to her companions there. Cats can cope with blindness more than we could.’

But Sadie couldn’t forget that the cat had ‘found’ them, turning up in their room and not wanting to leave: ‘She is so very affectionate with humans and, after observing her, she seemed fairly irritated by the younger cats. She appeared to be far more human-orientated. However, I want to do the best for her so am happy to take that advice.’

She told me she already had a rescue dog and I raised this with her. Would this be a problem for a blind cat?

Sadie came back to me quickly:

After some discussion and persuasion, the inevitable was decided. Katarina was totally blind and therefore even after emergency treatment for her eyes, morally, she could not be returned to the farm, where she would starve to death, if she was not eaten by a predator first. Nor was there a rescue option in Sicily. She was in limbo at the vets, in a cage, as Sadie and Eddie had to return to London. Katarina was homeless, now clocking up a massive bill at the vets, and requiring his very dedicated team to intensively treat her and quarantine her during the summer holidays.

Said Sadie: ‘It was my naivety that had brought her to a place that now required my decision about her future. It was my duty, I felt, to see the process through to some conclusion, and this sweet little cat deserved a home. My boyfriend was less than impressed by the scenario, understandably. We had just moved into a new house and already had a large, extremely messy young dog to contend with at home. The last thing he wanted was a severely disabled Sicilian cat. We had no idea what she was or wasn’t capable of.’

It was now clear to me that Sadie’s heart was set on giving the cat a loving home. She had a week’s holiday towards the end of August and could fly to Sicily, complete the necessary documents and bring Katarina home with her. Who was I to stand in her way? It was time to look into practicalities and here we found it was not going to be a simple process.

In the past, if you wanted to bring an animal into the UK, it would have to stay in quarantine for six months. This cost the owners a lot of money, not to mention the distress of being separated from their pets for such a long time. Fairly recently, the rules have been relaxed, making it somewhat easier. As long as the cat or dog has been microchipped and vaccinated against rabies, they can be issued with a pet passport. After a 21-day wait, they may travel freely within countries. The rules of the UK are still stricter than those for the rest of Europe, too strict in some people’s opinion. On the other hand, there has been no reported case of rabies in the UK since 1902.

My thoughts went to Oscar, who had sent me photographs of Katarina post-operation and had so kindly agreed to keep her in the surgery until Sadie could make her arrangements. It seemed that he had fallen in love with her too.

He wrote to me: ‘I think that this cat is really special and I too want the best for her. The most beautiful arrangement is Sadie’s house seeing that it was she who found the cat and sought to save her from the streets. Thus I agree that she should take her to England so that she can have the best possible care. I have already told Sadie that the cost enabling her to take the cat home is 100 euros and includes microchip, anti-rabies inoculation, de-worming, three certificates and phials of flea treatment. For the days during which I keep the cat until collected, with all the medical care she will need, I will accept whatever contribution she cares to give me.’

It was now August and Oscar was officially on holiday, although going in each day to care for Katarina. I felt uncomfortable with all the trouble I was putting him to. After all, it was I who had first put these wheels in motion.

He wrote: ‘I need to know with certainty the day in which Sadie wishes to come here. She will have to stay for several days to organise the documents because she has to go to the Veterinary Office in Taormina to sign them. I will do my best to make it all as easy as possible. The cat is very well, eating and is much more calm now that she has been neutered. Let me know when Sadie plans to come.’

A day or so later, he wrote: ‘She is an angel, a very special cat who deserves a special home.’

This was exactly what Sadie was preparing – she told me she was building a ramp so the cat could easily access the stairs!

‘Eddie is now quite amused by the whole scenario and is helping me make arrangements. I can finance her coming here and have started raising considerable funds. I work for a children’s charity so that comes as second nature. I have some big sponsors in my contacts, so who knows? I want to look after the Gatta Trovatella!’

And I wanted to help her but I was still concerned about a blind cat travelling such a distance. I remembered Elke telling me about the plane and train journeys she made with her four cats. They had always travelled with her in the cabin when she went from Sicily to Rome and also to Germany. I knew the reassurance my cat Sheba needed on journeys and was comforted that Sadie would be by her side. Then I discovered, once again, British rules were different: animals had to travel as live cargo. There were no exceptions for blind cats like Katarina. Oh dear, how would she cope with that? Would she be traumatised by the noise and movement? Oscar also expressed his concerns. This was becoming more stressful by the day.

Sadie was also encountering difficulties. She wrote: ‘I’m really struggling to find an airline that will take the cat. Alitalia do NOT bring animals into the UK anymore and BA has a strict policy which does not permit animals in the cabin. It will cost several hundred to book her in cargo. This airline seems to fly directly to London, which is one saving grace. Airlines are generally useless, have no info online and are unhelpful.’

We were moving through August, Katarina had been with Oscar for almost a month. She was thriving on all the care and attention he was giving her but she couldn’t stay there forever. Sadie continued to struggle with the logistics of getting the little feline into the UK. I was still concerned about her having to travel as live cargo and so I consulted Elke.

‘It does seem so complicated compared with the rest of Europe,’ she agreed. ‘And I understand Sadie being daunted by all this paperwork. Tell her to call me the moment she arrives in Taormina and I’ll go with her to the Veterinary Office and translate so that she can complete the documents.’

One afternoon Elke called on Oscar and the two of them got on like a house on fire.

‘La Manna is a lovely person and remember Sicilians are very accustomed to problems. I went ice-cream eating with him today and we had lots of laughs.’

Meanwhile, Sadie remained concerned. She had been double-checking the UK regulations for a pet passport and wanted to be certain everything was in place: ‘I don’t want to be turned back at the border or, worse, for Kat to have to go into quarantine. The microchip has to be placed before the anti-rabies vaccination. I am also concerned that Oscar hasn’t factored in the 21-day waiting period.’

I was now in conflict. On the one hand, I wanted this transfer to go smoothly and without hitch. On the other, I disliked having to continually bother Oscar, who was still on holiday. I kept on apologising to him.

Things suddenly came to a head when Sadie said she had to confirm flights by nine o’clock that Thursday evening. It was now crucial, she said, to have all her queries clearly answered. I waited for Oscar to reply. It must be a wonderfully sunny day in Sicily, I told myself. Who knew, maybe he was on the beach! However, at four that afternoon, I was able to text Sadie that all was in place.

I heard nothing over that Bank Holiday weekend but I had my own concerns, trying to make important appointments in France, where I was shortly to present my new novel. I just presumed all had gone to plan and wondered when Sadie would go to the surgery to be reunited with Katarina.

Then I heard that Sadie, faced with all these difficulties, had been trying to find another option: ‘This is not a simple process of me coming over. I would have to fly over (based on when her 21-day period is over), stay in Taormina as I can’t drive, collect and sign documents from somewhere, travel to Giardini Naxos on public transport, collect the cat and get a train/bus to Catania, fly to Rome with her, then transfer her to another flight in cargo.’

That’s when the bureaucratic nightmare to bring her to the UK began: ‘Sicily it seems has its own way of operating, and there are various nonsensical hoops that make the process extremely costly and slow. The language barrier was also very taxing. However, with the help of Catsnip, locals in Sicily, the vet and an agency in Rome, Kat eventually arrived at our home in London… that’s cutting a very long story short and eclipsing six weeks of constant organisation and changes in the plan, as new rules and blockades became apparent. At one point it seemed that the only way to get the cat to the airport for 7am, for the only flight that would accept her (a flight which was not even going to London), would be for an elderly Sicilian removal van driver to be conscripted into the plan,’ explained Sadie.

It was certainly complex and she had decided that it would be simpler to use the specialist agency Relocat.

‘They can do everything, and advise Oscar, which seems to make more sense than me trying to do this, via you,’ said Sadie. ‘The plan is that Kat will need to be taken to Catania airport, flown to Rome, stay over a night there, then fly to London the following day!! It is the only way. I hope it will not be too traumatic for her. She will have a strange few hours in transport, but will then be home, and safe. The whole experience is very strange for her, the vets, transport, a new home, a dog, etc. But she is a very young cat, who seems robust enough to cope. After her travels here, she will not be uprooted again, and will have a luxurious life!’

Her other life options were dire.

At this point another player in this drama came on the scene. Mark contacted me from the Rome agency, telling me he would take care of all arrangements from drop-off at Catania airport to delivery to Sadie’s London home.

He said: ‘I don’t think there’s any sense in Sadie (who doesn’t speak Italian) coming down merely to rent a car/cab and drive for forty minutes from Taormina to Catania. I am arranging two flights, AZ 1710 and BA 547. Live animals must travel as AVI Manifest Cargo to the UK under the Pet Travel Scheme. I won’t be able to book flights until I have copies of pet passport pages.’

In Taormina, Elke was standing by:

Tomorrow morning I will go with La Manna to get the passport of Katarina. I have the appointment at 1pm in that health office. La Manna and the vet of ASL know precisely what they have to do. After that, I will scan the passport and email it to Mark. He also gave me the exact measurements for the transport-basket, which I will buy, together with a little water distributor.

I have to be at Catania airport at 7.30am. The cat will take the Alitalia flight to Rome at 10am. Mark will pick her up and put her on the next British Airways flight. So the cat will arrive at Heathrow around 4.00pm that same day, where Sadie has to pick her up and bring her to her new home. This way I think it is perfect and not too stressy at all for Katarina. I will let you know as soon as Mark has told me the exact travelling day, which will not be before 4 or 5 of September. Katarina can stay at La Manna’s office, she has completely adapted to the place and he will not ask for any extra money. I will pick her up in the evening before travelling and keep her with me that night because we have to leave here in Taormina at 6.00am to be punctually at the airport.

I have found that all this is being done very professionally by everybody, and I myself are doing this whole fatigue deliberately, because I like animals more than people – ha ha!

I will tell Mark on the phone that Katarina is a very calm cat and does not need tranquillisers. Please, Sadie, can you mail your name and address to me or La Manna again today; he wants to compare it with the one he already has before going to the ASL tomorrow. I hope that everything is clear now and I wish you good luck with Katarina.

I am still trying to find the right transport-cage. Even that has ‘special rules’. I cannot believe how complicated it is to ship a cat from Italy to England. Meanwhile, the cat is doing brilliantly.

After a long search Elke finally found the right transportation basket, which conformed to both airlines’ requirements, and was awaiting news from Mark on the date of the flights.

It was now September and I was standing in the magnificent gardens of Claude Monet in Giverny, Normandy when Sadie’s triumphant email arrived:

Kat arrived very late last night. She is absolutely lovely. She is in our bedroom and conservatory, just so that she gets used to that part of the house first. She is using her litter tray (she is very clean). She had fresh salmon for dinner and ate biscuits and a little meat this morning!

She certainly can jump! She slept in her little cat bed for an hour and then arrived on our bed and slept cuddled up on my pillow, purring. I’m surprised by how well she gets around, actually. She is very curious, and affectionate. She kept us awake all night purring and trying to sleep on our heads. Maybe she remembers us…

Over the following weeks, Sadie kept me posted: ‘Katarina is very cuddly and is quite playful. She hunts and plays based on movement and sound – I think that she is a very clever cat. She is quite fearless.’

A day or so later, the photographs arrived. They showed an adorable and contented Katarina and brought tears to my eyes.

Sadie’s most recent email told me: ‘She is now a healthy, happy eighteen-month-old cat, who not only circumnavigates around our home with ease, but who is a talented escape artist and climber. She enjoys the garden and was house-trained from day one. Her eating habits are questionable, and we have to compete with her when opening cupboards, or the fridge. The dog and she have become a tag-team for stealing food. She is very skilled at this, much to the dog’s delight. She licks everyone that comes into the house to visit, and occasionally has to be removed from our guests’ laps after they have endured her grooming them for ten minutes. She particularly likes beards. As we speak she is lying on her back, in a disused brown cardboard box by the Christmas tree. She has a full belly and a smile on her face. That pretty much sums up her new life here.’

Elke commented: ‘I am very happy to know that the cat is in good hands. Thinking about the whole thing now, I have some comments to say: Now that I know how the transport and papers for the UK for animals work, I would probably do it again, because in the beginning nobody knew how different everything is to the UK in contrast with other European countries. I would recommend Catsnip pass on this information and give the appropriate addresses – for example, Mark’s in Rome – so that people know what they have to do. He knows every rule of every country for import and export of animals, and was a huge help for me. With the right information it is not too difficult to get things done but it takes some time and patience.’

And money! Sadie ended up with a £3,000 bill. As she said: ‘It’s such a shame that there is not a revised/alternative way to bring rescue animals to other parts of Europe. It actually disgusts me that all the money I have paid has gone to BA, rather than as a donation to Oscar or a cat rescue organisation in Sicily. I’m imagining that £3,000 would have paid for quite a few cats to be treated/spayed. Morally, in such circumstances as this, I feel that it’s abhorrent to make fees so high. No wonder no one is willing to go through this. I would have been so much happier if I knew that airlines/organisations would waive some of their fees (VAT at least) to donate it so that the issue in Sicily could be addressed. There are so many people who would be willing to help if the cost wasn’t so vast. It’s just been so ridiculous that I’m furious that this system hasn’t been changed. Nothing is given towards raising awareness in Sicily or towards rescue organisations.’

I thoroughly agree, Sadie, but rejoice that there are people like you and Eddie who care.