Caterpillar is in place for the evening. She's been resting on her red cushion. I put a little bit of catnip by her. She likes the smell. She'll lie there beside the pile of catnip the rest of the evening and maybe the night. She never eats it, just smells it. Sometimes she rolls in it. Something about the scent relaxes her. I'm sure there is a scientific explanation, but I don't care what it is. It looks like she's settled in for the night, but that's uncertain.
It's a puzzlement to me what to do for Caterpillar. She wasn't the least bit social with Tapo and TarBaby except to intimidate them and make them hiss, but they'd been with her all her life, their presences were always here. Now they're gone. It doesn't feel right for me, and I sense it doesn't feel right for Caterpillar either. I may be projecting my feelings onto her, but so what if I am. We know each other well enough by now I have a fair idea how she's feeling by her demeanor. Right now she's relaxed and comfortable in the only place that's ever been home for her, the place she was born. The giant that has loved her since her eyes opened continues to be her friend and provider.
What I've seen in her moods has been glad Tapo was gone for a couple days, twisting and squirming happy to have her out of the way. Then a couple days of sorrow when it sank in that Tapo was really gone. From there, we had the feeling together, it's just us. It's something new to get used to. Now my attention is not divided between three, it's all on Caterpillar. She's all I have left and I'm all she has left. All her attention is on me now. So I pay her plenty of attention, keeping her knowing at all times I'm aware of her presence. Sometimes I just speak her name as a vocal way of petting her. I brush her hair from time to time, buy cat treats for her. Now that it's just us, she's all three of the cats for me and I'm the other 2 for her. I tell her every day I love her with all my heart, because I do and she needs to know it. She loves me the same
We have a closer bond than we've ever had. She's figuring out how to tell me what she wants. When she wants out, she knows how to let me know. She gets my attention, then leads me to the door. She wants food, she leads me to the catfood. She wants me to hold her, she stands at my feet waiting for me to pick her up. I pick her up at least once every day. We're two consciousnesses, family as family gets. I'm all the world she knows besides birds and mice. She hasn't attempted to catch either for some years. She used to be rough on them. I saw her once jump about 4 feet straight up and swat at a flying snowbird. She hit the wing and set it wobbling, but the bird pulled itself together and got out of there. I saw then that Caterpillar meant business and wondered how many times she'd slapped a bird out of the air.
She's having a drink of water now. That's another thing. I am certain to change her water regularly to keep it always fresh for her. I'm giving her the attention I gave 3 cats before, and am happy about it. I aim to keep her spoiled the rest of her life, knowing she's loved and well provided for. I've always wanted a good life for her. She doesn't go out any more on account of the dogs. I keep towels on the floor where the sun shines every day for her to have good places to lie in the sun. She just lays about and sleeps. At night she sleeps beside a heater in the bedroom I keep on low. All she asks of me is to hold her from time to time. When I read or watch a movie, she likes to stretch out on my lap for a nap. Her habits have developed in relation to mine, so we're as well matched as 2 beings can be together. She's the perfect cat for me and I'm the perfect giant for her.
Pillar, I call her about half the time, her familiar name, and feel it describes her role like Caterpillar describes her fuzzy fur, the stripes and the way she walked as a kitten. In the absence of mother, Caterpillar became the "nurturer" who kept the other's clean. She was a funny kitten with a big sweep of white hair swirling out from her ears. By the time she was full grown her ears grew around the hair, but when she was little the hair stuck out from her ears like little wings. She was about the cutest kitten you ever saw. But when time came for the 3 of them to establish their pecking order, Caterpillar came out on top, because she was the craziest fighter and the biggest. She fought like a wild animal. Her disposition changed utterly. She was ready to fight the other 2 every day. For years they walked way around her. She had an attitude that kept them aware she was Top Cat. Now that they're gone, Caterpillar's haughty attitude is gone. Now she's the cat she's always wanted to be.