I used to like caterpillars. I used to think they were remarkable creatures. I used to think they were somehow miraculous. I used to love their undulating way of walking on their Mexican wave legs. I used to like the feel of them on my hand and the softness of their touch. I used to like all of these things, and I had a lot of time for caterpillars… that is until they moved into my bedroom.
They arrived in a box, and like all good parcels, in a box that was too big to squeeze through the letter box.It had to be retrieved from the distant parcel depot on the outskirts of town. I can’t begin to imagine how horrific it must have been for them, to be tumbled around and around inside the box as I turned it this way and that, before it dawned on me what was inside.
Once home, I opened the box and discovered a small, plastic, lidded container containing four grubs and an even tiny skinnier grub. They were very still, and I thought I’d already achieved 100% mortality without even trying. The skinniest then moved and became the liveliest of them all. When they all started to move like pale, maggoty zombies I wished that they hadn’t. They looked absolutely revolting.
Within days they had doubled in size munching happily on the food medium at the bottom of the plastic container.
A couple more days, and they were caterpillars proper, with spiky punk hair and a caterpillarary way of moving.
And that was when the horror started.
No one had warned me that they were about to take their heads off!
It seems that caterpillars discard their heads… well the shell-like covering that was once covering their tiny caterpillar brains. Caterpillars simply shake their heads off and then continue on their way; leaving their discarded heads looking like unwanted tiny Hell’s Angels’ biker helmets on the ground. They are there still, littering the base of the pot.
Four of them cast aside their heads in this manner…ugh! The runt caterpillar which had earlier put all of its energy into moving and not eating, hadn’t reached the same stage and was lying instead in a near death pose at the base of the pot. It was no doubt completely traumatised after watching the antics of its siblings. I diagnosed it was probably suffering from post traumatic stress disorder, and shock after watching the macabre antics of its siblings.No wonder it was off its food. I guess it was thinking…Did you see what they just did! Did you see that! I don’t want to do that..ever!
The caterpillars grew bigger and the four big ones this time on mass crawled to the very top of the pot and shook themselves free of their second heads; but this time taking off a couple of hairy shoulder blades that were attached to them too. They left these second heads suspended on silk. These now dangle like unlit, dark, grotesque chandeliers above them. The skinny runt caterpillar needless to say is in a catatonic state. Can you imagine trying to eat with four cast off heads dangling above you. You can hear its thoughts… Nooooooo! This can’t be happening to me! ….Noooooooo!
I’m finding that I too can barely look into the pot to watch them. One of nature’s horror shows is taking place in my bedroom and I don’t want any part in it.
The smallest caterpillar is still unchanged and seems intent on remaining stylishly anorexic by the side of its fat siblings. All the caterpillars now resemble screws. Hairy screws! They hate to be touched by each other and make quick threatening movements should a sibling cross their path. I guess that’s because they’ve got sore heads. The literature that came with them proclaims confidently that they will become Painted Ladies in a couple of weeks’ time. I’ve researched them and discovered that as butterflies they will have a life span of only two weeks, but before they get to that stage they have to take their heads off twice more…ugh…like I say I used to like caterpillars but now!
Oh… I just can’t look!
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