We had a bit more excitement last night than usual.

Yesterday was a typical southern California April day. A bit gloomy in the morning, cloudy but warm most of the day, cooling off quickly as the sun set. The kitty girls were having a wonderful time hunting and playing in the kitty-proof back yard. I was relaxing indoors after a grueling day at the office, while Nancy was getting some work done on her computer.

From my favorite chair in the living room I have a decent view of the back door, which was propped wide open to allow the girls easy access to the house. As I relaxed and vacantly gazed at the TV, out of the corner of my eye I saw a dark object zoom through the back door. That's a pretty normal sight, as the girls take turns dashing into the house at barely sub-sonic speeds as long as the door is open. But this dark flash was about six feet off the ground. That's a bit much even for our girls. The head-height flash was followed by three ground-level streaks of furry energy, so I decided I'd better see what was up.

When I peeked into the kitchen, I saw a bird flying about. I don't know much about birds, so I can't tell you what kind of bird it was. But it was obviously scared and confused, and was doing it's best to stay from the three furry bodies watching it. DD girl was sitting calmly on the floor, staring at the bird. I think she was directing thought-beams at the poor bird - "Ignore those three things that look like cats. They're just statues, and won't hurt you." Cleopatra was following the bird wherever it went. She was running along the floor with her eyes fixed on the bird. But amazingly, she ran *around* all obstacles in her path. I guess that's proof that cats have built-in radar. Amelia also had her eyes glued on the bird, but she was jumping from the dryer to the counter to the washer to the refrigerator - whatever would get her closer to what she clearly intended to have as her late-night snack.

I called for Nancy to help, and we tried to steer the poor little bird back towards the open back door. But I guess the bird decided he'd have no part of that. We and the bird and the cats made several circuits of the kitchen and the living room. Fortunately Nancy managed to keep a clear head, and suggested that we open the front door. I did so, and on the next circuit of the living room the bird saw the open front door and headed for freedom.

On its final circuit of the house, the bird headed into the living room and out the front door before the kitty parade arrived in the living room. The girls didn't get to see the bird head out the door. So when they dashed into the room they were convinced that the bird was still there, but hiding. They searched the entire room for several minutes. It looked like Cleo figured out that something was up - she gave me a nasty glare that clearly implied she thought I had some hand in the disappearance of their prey. After five minutes or so of excited searching, the girls thundered back out to the yard to send thought-beams at some other fat, juicy birds.

Finally, around 9:00PM or so the cool night air was turning cold and I brought the girls in. Cleo and DD went about their usual nighttime routines, but Amelia headed straight for the front window. She paced back and forth for several minutes, then sat and called for the bird to come out of hiding. I told her it was no use. I told her that the bird had flown away, had gone home and told his birdie wife all about his narrow escape from the flashing claws of the tortoiseshell huntress, the powerful jaws of the silver stalker, and the powerful concentration of the grey and white watcher. I told her that the birdie had then turned up his birdie heater (it was cold out), climbed into his birdie bed and pulled up his birdie covers, laid his head down on his birdie pillow and went to sleep. Amelia gave me a rather skeptical glance, and Nancy looked at me as if I was a little crazier than she had previously thought.

I finally settled Amelia down by giving her a shoulder-ride through the whole house. She got to look up close at all the high corners, and on top of all the furniture, and in the kitchen cupboards, and satisfy herself that the indoor bird was indeed gone. She spent the night sleeping in her usual spot at the foot of the bed, and did her normal excellent job of grooming my hair after my morning shower, so I guess we have all returned to normal now.

Copyright © Dan Mahoney
April 25, 2003