The new octopus, also a giant Pacific octopus, is young—perhaps less than nine months old—and thus small. Montgomery estimates that she is about half the size of Octavia when the latter first arrived. Because she has a spot on her head that never changes color with the rest of her skin, Bill has named her Kali, after the Hindu goddess of creative destruction (who also happens to have multiple arms). Montgomery has considered getting an octopus of her own to observe at home, despite the expense and copious work involved, but in the end decides to keep visiting the New England Aquarium instead. There she can tap into the expertise of the staff and volunteers, many of whom have become her friends. She coordinates her visits with Wilson’s, meeting on what they call “Wonderful Wednesdays.”

On her second visit, Montgomery joins a small group of people interacting with Kali, who by all indications promises to be a friendly and outgoing octopus. She explains that such animal–human interaction was not common until 15 years earlier, and the New England Aquarium was a pioneer in this transformation. It was not the staff, however, but two volunteers (both named Marion) who led the change.