Remember back when people got cats because they had a problem with mice?

Yeah, my cat has never caught a mouse.

I’ve seen her stalk a few flies and the occasional Daddy Long Legs, but that’s about the extent of her hunting skills. Although I can’t say it’s entirely her fault, I did have her de-clawed when she was a kitten which hardly makes hard core gaming easy for her.

You can imagine my surprise when I saw my lazy cat, Aurora, came bolting through the crack in the screen door, running for her life from a momma bird that was chasing after her. I looked down and in Aurora’s mouth was a baby bird! She looked up at me and dropped the bird. It flew a foot and Aurora promptly knocked it down, holding it under her claw-less paws.

Of course I did what most sane pet owners do and FREAKED OUT! I ran up the stairs for back up, “Heidi! Heidi! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod! There is a bird in the house! Aurora caught a baby bird! What do I do????”

We came down stairs and Aurora was still playing catch and release with the poor little sparrow. Heidi informed me that I need to catch the bird and bring it outside the house. To which I replied, “The fuck? I can’t catch a bird!”

Heidi in her wisdom, peaking from behind the door, informed me, “It’s not like the bird can hurt you, you know?”

Right. I am a giant, totally capable of catching a bird the size of tangerine.

I grabbed an empty basket and a princess DVD (totally appropriate bird catching tools) and slowly tried to coerce the bird into my trap. After a few too many attempts, squeals and minor heart palpitations, I finally had the bird secured.

“Now what do I do? I mean, I don’t know where the nest is. Will the momma bird come and get it?”

Of course Heidi had no clue but told me to put it on the grass, which I did.

The bird was stunned and wouldn’t move. I don’t blame it really. I would be stunned too if I had just lived through being caught and tortured by a cat, a crazy screaming giant woman, entrapment and unforeseen freedom.

I was pretty sure the bird wasn’t hurt, just not quite old enough to fly very far (it still had a few down feathers). Still, I couldn’t bring myself to go back outside and check on it.

The next morning on my way to work I passed by the spot where I had left the bird on the grass the night before. It was no where to be seen.

I like to tell myself the bird is okay.

Because sometimes living in the world where upside down goldfish are “just sleeping” and the family dog went to live on a farm far away where he can run and run, is just so much better than the truth.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Summer Bitch kitty, Story Time