Guess What I Have

by cathrynbauer

IMG_2158Bodacious the Firecat checks out the workers who are coming to shore up the fence so she can’t dig her way out from under it.

I am rapidly reaching the conclusion that I have acquired a Doppelgaenger, a creature who personifies a tricky (okay, bloody unacceptable) part of myself in the classic Jungian sense.

So I guess I’ll just start from the beginning.  Once she got over her initial fearfulness at being in a new place, Bodaciouscat promptly began living up to her name.  Supervised forays into the yard became difficult because she figured out how to dig her way out in back so she could get to the birds who hung out in the poplars, laughing at her.  She also systematically dismantled my attempts at hole-plugging and reinforcing.  Hence the workers today.  Pete and crew are installing paving under the gates and rocks around the inside perimeter.  That wasn’t the only problem.  She’s a yowler and a something of a urine-marker.  (She is also an extreme love bug, and an adorable one at that.)  The yowling stops when she gets attention and reassurance.  Anxiety.

The second reason why I think Bodacious is my Doppelgaenger, sent to me in a dazzling display of co-inside-dance: I realized about a week ago that she was exactly like the cat on the album cover Teaser and the Firecat, a Cat Stevens album that was extremely important to me circa 1972.  Some of its imagery is part of my personal mythology.  For example, I call the immutable fact of having being abused past the point of legality as a child and teenager my Moonshadow.  “Well, I’m being followed by a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow.  Leaping and hopping on a moonshadow…”  I am not sure I totally understand the rest of the song, but it has always seemed to me to be about making the best of what is out of your power to change.  Anyway, her middle name is now The Firecat.  One more sign that we are supposed to be together.

Bodacious had another night in her saferoom last night, complete with litter box, food and drink, toys, a blanket, and her beloved sister Moniquecat.  So we didn’t hear her yowling until the door was opened and the cats’ day began.  I had a bit of a crisis with a demonic security package called two-step verification which I’d installed on my iPad and iPhone.  Turned out it was so secure that even I couldn’t get into my email from either device.  True to form, I got horribly upset, which upset Ted and called forth a lot of anxious yowling.  At that point, it dawned on me that Bodacious really mirrored my feelings, that the general, free-floating anxiety that I do such an abominable job of controlling was playing out in her.  The yowling stopped pretty much at that instant.  It hasn’t resumed.  I went in and disabled the two-step verification, and everything was fine.   And so is Bodacious.  She’s meditating and pressing some of Ted’s clothes in the bedroom.  I just went in and petted her and told her that I knew who she was.

I have a Doppelgaenger, brought (called?) to me to deliver the message that fanning my own fears needs to stop.  Bodaciouscat just came into the room and settled down without so much as a squeak.