On a remote New Zealand peninsula, a three-year contest between human conservationists and a single feral cat has come to a quiet, complicated end. The animal, known as Nine Lives, killed an estimated one percent of the country's rarest mainland ducks before being caught and humanely killed in late July — a small arithmetic victory in a much larger reckoning with what it means to share a fragile island ecosystem with creatures that do not belong there. New Zealand has long understood that its native species evolved without mammalian predators, and that understanding now carries the weight of p
Notorious feral cat 'Nine Lives' finally caught after three-year rampage in New Zealand
It would show up and then not show up for another two or three months
Mark
Why did this one cat become so famous when there are millions of feral cats in New Zealand?
Mimi
Because it killed a significant portion of an already vanishing species. The pāteke population is so small that losing even dozens of birds represents a real setback. But also because it was so hard to catch—that frustration made it memorable.
Mark
The erratic behavior—was that the cat being clever, or just luck?
Mimi
Probably neither. It was just how that particular animal moved through the world. No intelligence required. But from the trappers' perspective, it looked like the cat was always one step ahead. Unpredictability is its own kind of advantage.
Mark
How do you kill something humanely when it's been eluding you for three years?
Mimi
By the time they caught it, they had the resources and the moment. A cage, a camera, salmon and chicken. Once it was contained, there was no prolonged suffering. The hard part was getting to that point.
Mark
Why taxidermy it instead of just disposing of the body?
Mimi
Because Nine Lives becomes a teaching tool now. A physical object that shows people what feral cats actually do to native species. It's harder to ignore a stuffed cat in a museum than it is to ignore statistics.
Mark
Does catching one cat actually change anything for the pāteke?
Mimi
Not by itself. But it removes a specific, devastating predator from a small peninsula where they're trying to rebuild a population. It's one less threat. And it signals that the team is serious about elimination, not just management.
The Pulse
- A single feral cat dismantled years of careful conservation work, killing roughly thirty rare pāteke ducks across two separate reintroduction attempts on the Purerua peninsula.
- The cat's refusal to follow any predictable pattern — shifting locations, varying its hunting hours, avoiding traps it seemed to sense — turned a wildlife management operation into something closer to an obsession.
- Each near-miss over three years deepened the frustration of the conservation team and fed a growing legend around an animal that had, in effect, outthought its pursuers.
- A sudden behavioral shift — three consecutive nights at the same quarry — gave trappers the opening they needed, and on July 30th, a motion-triggered camera confirmed the cat was finally in a cage.
- The capture has reopened a raw public debate in a country with one of the world's highest rates of cat ownership, where the line between beloved pet and ecological threat is both blurry and deeply felt.
On a remote New Zealand peninsula, a three-year contest between human conservationists and a single feral cat has come to a quiet, complicated end. The animal, known as Nine Lives, killed an estimated one percent of the country's rarest mainland ducks before being caught and humanely killed in late July — a small arithmetic victory in a much larger reckoning with what it means to share a fragile island ecosystem with creatures that do not belong there. New Zealand has long understood that its native species evolved without mammalian predators, and that understanding now carries the weight of policy, grief, and difficult choices about which lives are permitted to continue.
On the Purerua peninsula at the top of New Zealand's North Island, a large grey tabby spent three years hunting with quiet devastation before conservationists finally caught up with it. They named the cat Nine Lives — a name earned not through affection but through an almost maddening ability to evade every trap set in its path. In late July, that run ended. The cat was caught in a cage at a quarry and humanely killed, closing one of the more exhausting chapters in recent New Zealand conservation history.
The trouble began in 2023, when the Pest Free Purerua project introduced twenty pāteke — brown teal ducks, among the rarest mainland ducks in the country — to the peninsula. Within a week, one was dead. Camera footage identified a specific cat with distinctive markings. Over the following months, fifteen more pāteke were killed by the same animal. The team brought in more traps, more cameras, more determination. They caught other feral cats. Nine Lives remained untouched.
What made the cat so difficult to catch was not cunning in any romantic sense, but a behavioral pattern that simply defied prediction. It appeared in one location, then vanished for months. It hunted at dusk, at midnight, in broad daylight — never the same time twice. When the team released another twenty pāteke in 2024, hoping the cat had moved on, it reappeared almost immediately and killed fifteen of the new birds. The estimated toll across three years reached dozens of pāteke, representing roughly one percent of the entire mainland population — a catastrophic loss in a country where conservation margins are measured in single digits.
Then something shifted. The cat appeared at a quarry three nights running — behavior the project manager described as quite unusual. The team laid out salmon, fried chicken, and rabbit. On July 30th, a motion-triggered cellphone camera sent a notification: a cat in one of the cages. The trappers arrived. The cat was humanely shot.
The body will be taxidermied and used as an educational tool — a physical reminder of what feral cats can do to native wildlife. The response on social media was divided: some mourned the animal, others called the capture a fantastic result. The project manager acknowledged both, saying the cat deserved a certain dignity even in death. More than two and a half million feral cats roam New Zealand, and in November the government added them to its Predator-Free 2050 strategy. For Pest Free Purerua, the capture of Nine Lives may finally allow the reintroduction of pāteke to resume. The three-year hunt is over. The larger war continues.
On the Purerua peninsula in Northland, near the top of New Zealand's North Island, a large grey tabby cat spent three years doing what feral cats do best: hunting. But this particular animal became legendary not for its success, but for its elusiveness. Conservationists named it Nine Lives, a name earned through sheer stubbornness and an almost supernatural ability to vanish whenever a trap was set. In late July, that streak ended. The cat was caught in a cage at a quarry and humanely killed, bringing to a close one of the most frustrating wildlife management operations in recent New Zealand conservation history.
The trouble began in 2023, when the Pest Free Purerua project introduced twenty pāteke—brown teal ducks, among the rarest mainland ducks in the country—to the peninsula. The team believed they had the feral cat population under control. They were wrong. Within a week, one of the introduced birds was dead. Camera footage revealed the culprit: a specific cat with distinctive markings, hunting with methodical precision. Over the following months, another fifteen pāteke fell to the same predator. Andy Mentor, the project manager, described those early days as genuinely stressful. The team brought in more traps, more gear, night cameras, and more determination. They caught other feral cats. Nine Lives remained untouched.
What made this cat so difficult to catch was not cunning in any romantic sense, but rather a behavioral pattern that defied prediction. It would appear in one location, then vanish for two or three months. It hunted at dusk, at midnight, in the early morning, in broad daylight—never the same time twice. It showed up in places where traps had been laid, seemed to notice them, and simply did not return. When the team decided to release another twenty pāteke in 2024, hoping the cat had moved on or died, it reappeared almost immediately. Fifteen of the new birds were killed. Mentor explained the cat's erratic movements made tracking nearly impossible. There was no pattern to exploit, no routine to anticipate.
The team came close several times. Each near-miss added to the legend. Each escape reinforced the name. For three years, Nine Lives remained at large on the peninsula, feeding not only on the rare ducks but also on kiwi chicks, native geckos, and other native species. The estimated toll was staggering: dozens of pāteke killed, representing roughly one percent of the entire mainland population of the species. In a country where conservation margins are measured in single digits, that loss was catastrophic.
Then, at the end of July, something shifted. The cat appeared at a quarry three nights in a row—behavior Mentor described as quite unusual. The team laid out salmon, fried chicken, and rabbit. They set cages and traps. On July 30th, a cellphone camera triggered by motion sent a notification: a cat in one of the cages. The trappers were dispatched. There it was. The cat was humanely shot.
The body will be examined and taxidermied, destined to become an educational tool—a physical reminder of what feral cats can do to native wildlife. New Zealand has one of the world's highest rates of cat ownership, and the debate over feral and domestic cats cuts deep. Some on social media mourned Nine Lives, believing it deserved to live. Others called the capture a fantastic result. Mentor acknowledged both perspectives, saying the cat deserved a certain amount of dignity and respect, even in death.
The larger context matters. More than two and a half million feral cats roam New Zealand's bush and offshore islands, some growing to a meter long including their tail. They have decimated native wildlife and hunted some bird species toward extinction. In November, the government added feral cats to its Predator-Free 2050 strategy, a world-leading initiative to eliminate invasive predators. For Pest Free Purerua, the capture of Nine Lives represents a turning point. The team may now restart the introduction of pāteke to the peninsula, moving from suppression of cats to outright elimination. The three-year hunt is over. The larger war continues.
Notable Quotes
This particular cat would be very erratic. It would show up in a particular place and then not show up for another two or three months.— Andy Mentor, project manager for Pest Free Purerua
Nine Lives needs to be given a certain amount of dignity and respect.— Andy Mentor, project manager for Pest Free Purerua
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