I am a big softie, so instead of trap/neuter/release, it's more like trap/neuter/crap-I-named-you-I-guess-you-live-here-now.
for real.
It started with 3. I didn't want a pet since losing my pup a few years earlier, but these three kittens just appeared one day and one was curious enough to jump into the cab of my truck one night. That got my attention, so I started feeding them. I could, at the time, pick the curious one up without issue. Not anymore. Anyway, I figured they'd hang out for a few days and move on. Never did. So I named them. Simon, Iddy-biddy Jr., and Matilda (solid black). After maybe 6 months, I had to travel for work and I didn't want to just leave them so I trapped them. Well, two of them. I spent 2 hours trying to catch the third, Matilda. The big mouth bass of cats noted earlier.
I took them to the vet to be fixed, boarding, and for vaccines. I remember getting a call when I was wherever I was for the job, and the vet said they had to move them to a more secure kennel area. Apparently, they were literally climbing the cage walls and would get out whenever a tech opened the door to feed them. I laughed because in my head, I visualized my three kittens causing all kinds of hell for the vets and tech assistants. I imagined my cats wearing biker-style leather vests and bandanas, just knocking random stuff over and beating people up for no other reason than because they could. Yeah. My kitty gang. I was proud.
Since then, a fourth cat has appeared. I've named it Spot. Randomly 2-3 others frequent the lawn but not on a regular contractual basis.