Cat Report #2 plus postscript

Cheryl's observations and questions suggest that I tell you what little I know about The Cat.
Cat belonged to the late husband of the woman who put an ad in the neighborhood blog.
He spent his last time ill in a long-term care facility, and Cat lived with him in his room.  
After he died, she came to live in the shared house of the widow---several people and a dog.  Cat is not used to being outside, which is just as well, since they tell me a mountain lion slept on their front porch one night; and here we get visits from raccoons, skunks, foxes, bobcats and The Bear.

I was not told a name.  If I can find her number, I will call and ask.
She has made the guest room closet her home base, and the guest room bed her front porch.
Today, though, she did explore hanging out in some other places---the big easy chair in the living room; the floor in my back office.  She discovered the glass sliding doors and lurked there to see what was happening on the back porch.  She jumped over the sofa to discover what was behind it, then back again.  She finally came into this room, my back office, for the first time, and sprawled by the glass door for a bit.  Then she actually jumped into my lap as I sat on the easy chair, curled up and took a nap.
I have been trying to imagine what this experience must be like for her---starting out in a house with her person, then living in one room and her person ill, then the death of her person, then the original house-plus-dog, then this entirely strange place, with rooms and rooms, a snug closet, no other critters, and nobody who knows her since she was a kitten.  And an entirely different person.

When I try to imagine this sequence of events from her place, I am amazed that she is doing so well.  
She retreats when she needs to, comes out for periods of time and returns to her private home base, and (oh, thank G-d!) has no problem with the litter box.

Sending blessings to all of us critters who have to make changes we did not choose and find new ways survive and to thrive.  Good night.

Postscript:  leaving the house at 6:45 tomorrow morning; colonoscopy.  Feh.