Friday, September 22, 2017

How To Become A Cat. Whisperer

I am the caterpillar whisperer, owner of a syrup-high house for flies, and a patron of spiders.

Caterpillars cling to our house. Every Fall, the black-orange-black fuzzy crawlers return for a chance to be noticed by me. But, you argue, each year is a different generation. Correct. But the knowledge of my existence is passed from egg bundle to yearly bundle. Call it the genetic code of claspers.

How did I get my whispering title? From being their savior. Even with six eyes, caterpillars are almost blind. I have found them lying atop our outside trash can, on the side walk primed for a shoe squash, and in the crevices of my car's hatchback.

Ever so gently, I swoop up the cylinder puffs and drop them off on the nearest tree, bush, or popular green eating spot. In order not to spook the little ones, I quietly tell them about their new home. I can feel their pin headed minds relax as they know they are in a safe place. So over simply a few generations, I have become the venerated cat. whisperer. It's a beautiful thing.

Not being one to toot my own horn, I must also reveal that my car is sweeter than yours. We have the biggest Japanese maple tree in the 'hood, that drips down scraps of sap. It's broad branches and seasonally colored leaves cover most of the yard and driveway.

Plummeting sprinkles of tree sugar coat my moonglow painted hybrid. This scrumptious feast lures in flies and gnats. Insect addicts. It is a blessing that flies are not extinct. When I drive away in the morning, they are stuck to the car by their scrawny legs. It's a shameful way to die. Because if there is one thing the world needs more of, it's flies and gnats.

The birds are so pleased with the flies hanging out that they crap in excitement. My fortunate car is adorned every morning with fresh droppings from the excited birds. The animal kingdom simply is smitten with every aspect of my being.

After my joy of being a mom, cat whisperer, and fly drug pusher, I am a spoiler of spiders. It's the webs that fascinate me. Each one unique, efficient, and architecturally amazing. Spiderwebs serve as home, traps, and food containers. Spiders remake them every day.

Gazing at the corner ceiling art, I am mesmerized. Tell me of any other artist who has that skill. The many-legged never even attend web design classes.

What right do I have to destroy fine art?

So spiderwebs have to be rather old, bedraggled and disgusting before I ever have the heart to destroy them. I'm guessing that the spider appreciates their solo admirer, as there are many webs about our house. What animal doesn't love a fan?

Yes, they call me the Cat. Whisperer, and many other names.

Want to read more about brave, intelligent girls? This one is only three inches high:

Heather Leigh,
Lover of the forsaken