Not true. I'm with you on that one.
I just finished feeding my six feral cats in the garage, 5 a.m. here and three below zero.
I haven't yet fed my biggest and (at 12 years) oldest feral, who lives in the house and out, and is my best pal.
The "garage kitties," as they are known, are more or less tame, depending on which one, and they all have distinct personalities and singular patterns and routines.
One of them wants desperately to live in the house--she is the queen of the ferals--but of course some of that pipe dream would go up in smoke after a week or two relative confinement. Plus she triggers the hell out of my allergies.
Some of my ferals are shy, not to say paranoid, but most will at least stand a petting. What is remarkable about all of them is just how they do, after some time of being treated well, grow into decent and friendly sentient creatures.
“after some time of being treated well, grow into decent and friendly sentient creatures.”
One of the ferals which we were told we never could tame is extremely sentient.
After hip replacement surgery I slept in the guest room for about six weeks. Maris decided she was my nurse. Around bed time, she’d sit upright on the bed waiting for me to maneuver with the walker and slither in to bed. When I lied down, she’d come up and lie by my head and purr in my ear until I was seconds away from dropping off. Then she’d move down to the bottom of the bed to sleep.
That re-played each time I’d get up to use the bathroom, take meds, etc. She’d sit up, wait for me, purr me to sleep, and move to the bottom. She really wouldn’t leave me.