About 35 years ago my ex-wife and I got to feeding a feral house cat on our front porch. We had seen the cat foraging and had started out by leaving stuff on the porch. As time went on we were able to get closer, but never tried to touch it. One evening I looked out the screen door and saw him standing on the porch. I got something out of the kitchen and took it to him. When I sat it down in a bowl, the cat attacked me and bit me on the hand. Instead of scaring me, it made me mad, and I went into the bedroom, retrieved a 357 magnum (I know overkill, but hey I was mad remember), and went back to the door. The cat had landed in the flower beds after the scuffle, and was still there. I put his lights out, and the neighborhoods lights on.
Then I spent the next 6 weeks worrying about rabies, but too cheap to go the doctor for the then, series of very painful shots. Since then I don't feed feral house cats. I just shoot them all.