Friday, April 17, 2009

Poor Birdy

I really hated my cat this morning because she made me feel like an awful awful person. For the third time this week, she brought a bird into the house. For the second time this week, it was a baby bird. For the first time, the bird was still alive. I woke up to the most wild squeaky chirping, and I wondered, how did a bird get in the house? Then I dismissed that thought because a bird couldn't have gotten in the house. The sound stopped. I started to go back to sleep. Then the sound started again, a little further away. I sat up and blurrily saw a gray spot about the size of my cat running out of the room. I put my glasses on and followed her, and the bird was in her mouth. Every time I got close enough to grab it, she picked it up in her mouth and ran away with it again. I had to pull her tail and hold onto it to move her out of the way so I could pick up the bird with a paper towel. I didn't know what to do with it, because it was still alive. I didn't know how to nurse it back to health, and I didn't know how to kill it to put it out of its misery. I put it outside and it tried to stumble away, but didn't really get away. I went back in the house, and went back to sleep. I woke up a few hours later and looked for it; it was laying on it's back and still breathing. I'm not letting the cat outside today as punishment. If I have to be miserable, so does she.

1 comment:

  1. Yes, you are an awful, awful person!!! Nyuk Nyuk Nyuk...

    Cats do that kind of stuff. They are "hunters" by nature, and "pets" by breeding. They love to "do their thing" by killing anything smaller than themselves, and bringing it home to show off to their "people."

    You've got a REAL CAT on your hands.

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