Half an hour should be fine. She can always supplement her diet if April has trouble but doesn't think she will. Pippi makes a note of where the food is going, and she can always get April's attention if she needs to, if she's hungry. Normal cats do do that, and she is an entirely normal cat. An entirely normal cat watching the cans of catfood be put away with intense interest. 

"Hey Pippi, you hungry?"

She grabs a can off the top of the stack as she shuts the cupboard, then heads to the end of the counter nearest the food bowls, fishing a can opener out of the back of the cutlery drawer along the way.

"I'm assuming the answer is yes, and setting a timer to throw your food in the garbage in case I'm wrong. —wait, Daisy, how do I throw out cat food without accidentally communicating that the trash can is where dinner is served?"

"Unless you have an especially dumb cat she can tell when the food's gone off. Maybe not with the precision of a half-hour timer."

Pippi follows along, looking up at the can of cat food, clearly acting like she knows what's going to come out of it. 

And yes, she knows better than to eat food out of the trash. Despite how much humans throw away. 

"Cool, cool."

She opens the can and dispenses it into the dish.

And Pippi tucks into the wet food (not bad, Daisy has good taste) with enthusiasm. 

"Now that that's settled, do you have any spare blankets you want to donate to the cause? There wasn't room in the stack to get a cat bed, but she needs somewhere to sleep and if you don't offer her anything she'll make her own. She might make her own even if you do, to be honest."

"I could probably rustle something up." To the linen closet!

If Pippi wasn't in the middle of eating, she might have followed April to see what she's going to fetch and perhaps make her opinion known, if necessary. But she's eating food right now, and she shouldn't eat it too quickly. So she will have to see what turns up. 

Daisy busies herself partially deconstructing the box that the pirate ship came in to form a cat bed structural substrate.

April returns shortly.

"I have Worst Blanket and Second-Worst Blanket, in case Worst Blanket is too offensive."

Worst Blanket is made of an unidentified pink fuzzy substance that has pilled very badly and also appears to be disintegrating in several places for unclear reasons. Second-Worst Blanket is a light cotton quilt with numerous busted seams.

Daisy turns to the cat and says gravely, "Ma'am, I'm going to need you to rate these blankets."

She takes both blankets from April and deposits Second-Worst in the cardboard frame, leaving Worst folded up next to it.

The blanket and carboard work tolerably well together. The blanket certainly could be better, but it's soft enough for her to sleep on. And besides, she's a stray cat and has been living outdoors, why wouldn't she find this acceptable compared to sleeping on the grass outside, which she has definitely been doing. Or the loveseat, which she actually has been sleeping on. She kneads the blanket a bit to show April and Daisy that she's happy with this, and curls up into a loaf. She should probably eat the rest of her food. But this is still very nice. 

"Success! You can put Worst Blanket back in your closet. Or the garbage. Either one will do."

"Very funny. I'll have you know this blanket has profound sentimental value." She picks it up and heads back to the closet with it.

Pippi should eat the rest of her food. She should show April (and Daisy) that she's happy to be here, and also the food was pretty good. It has been a long day though. Maybe she can close her eyes for just a few minutes. 

Daisy rattles the food dish.

Fine, she'll eat more food. But not because Daisy said to do anything. Pippi stretches, not looking at the food dish or Daisy at all, and then goes over and continues eating her food, pointedly ignoring Daisy. 

Success.

Pippi Longstocking finishes her food, cleans her paws, and then heads back into the box. She's a lot more tired than she thought she was. There are things going on at the moment, but the humans seem to have it well in hand. 

She shall be left alone to be cozy.

Cozy and sleepy. And purring just a little. She keeps an ear open as best she can. 

Then she will get to hear April and Daisy chatting about books and video games over tea.

Nothing involving Pippi, and so nothing Pippi needs to care or worry about. She's glad April is having a good time with her friend, though. 

The next cat-related event is Daisy helping to set up the litter box in the basement bathroom.