My Monarch Caterpillar Adventure (Continued)

by Madeleine Kando

I resigned myself to the agony of waiting for 14 days before Julie and Max would emerge from their chrysalis.

A week passed, but on the morning of the 7th day, Julie disappeared, chrysalis and all. I suspected foul play, since the adult butterfly does not eat the empty chrysalis, and there was nothing hanging from the underside of the milkweed leaf.

You have no idea how long I spent scrutinizing every inch of the large plant. I was devastated. Max was still there, with golden droplets encircling the upper end of the cocoon, like a golden necklace. The breeze shook him gently back and forth, but he was strongly anchored by his two pro legs.

How naive had I been, thinking that by the time a caterpillar turns into a cocoon, predators wouldn’t be interested. A chrysalis looks so much like a hanging green leaf.

‘Ok. That’s it’, I thought. ‘This is too much for my blood pressure.’ I decided to take matters in my own hands and quickly set up a terrarium in my sunny living room. I know, its not kosher to interfere with nature, but by now Julie and Max had not only taken up a special spot in my garden, they had morphed into semi-pets. Wouldn’t you do anything to protect your cat from marauding predators?

Max, whether he liked it or not, was gently transported on the leaf and branch that he was attached to. I stuck the branch in a vase, filled it with water and covered the whole thing with mosquito netting. Just because he was now indoors, didn’t mean that some house spider wouldn’t try to turn him into lunch.



Another agonizing week went by. I read somewhere that moving is more stressful than divorce. Max wasn't married, so I wouldn't have blamed him if he had not survived. It was hard to tell what he was up to, being wrapped up like that. I was nervously looking for signs of discoloration, which would mean that some parasite got hold of the chrysalis.

Another week passed. No change. Then one morning, I saw some darkening of the bottom part of the chrysalis. I was sure that Max was decomposing inside his beautiful home and must have joined Julie in monarch heaven.

I was about to open up the terrarium and put Max on a paper towel to give him a proper burial, when, upon closer inspection I realized that the discoloration had the same tints as a monarch’s wings. Holymoly! Those are butterfly wings! All crumpled up inside the chrysalis.

Now I was looking at something that looked like an inverted flower, opening its petals. Max’s head, with its black and white spots was trying to wriggle its way out of the now translucent chrysalis. One by one, its pitch black eyes emerged, then one antenna, then the other. He suddenly did an aerial flip, like a circus acrobat. Luckily Max’s brand new long graceful legs were attached to the now empty chrysalis, or he would have fallen to the ground, damaged his wings and never would have been able to fly.

But his wings look tiny, his body too plump. He looks deformed. With pounding heart, I watch what happens next. Then, like inflating an air mattress, Max started to pump his wings, until finally they acquired the regal shape worthy of his kind.

I am in heaven. Max is a healthy specimen. Right before he flew out the open window, I looked for the two black spots on his wings, which identifies a monarch as a male. He didn’t have any.

Ok, so Max is a girl. Together with millions of his brothers and sisters, she will migrate to Mexico for the winter, then come back in the spring, hopefully visit my milkweed plant and lay some eggs of her own.

I am suffering from empty nest syndrome. All day long, my head cupped in my hands, I sadly watch monarch clips on You Tube, wondering if Max is alright. Did she get to Mexico alright? Was she eaten on the way? Will I ever see her again? I cannot wait for the spring, when I can witness this miracle all over again. leave comment here

To learn more about the quickly disappearing Monarch, please go to: Saving the Monarch Butterfly