You can't get angry when your cat catches birds. That would be sorta like giving a kid a hatchet and telling him not to chop anything down......But the other day, I was sitting here reading the newsgroups and was suddenly jolted back to earth by the sound of a bunch of angry Blue Jays. No mistaking what it was, as they all seem to gang up together when one is in distress, and what a racket! It was coming from somewhere in the back yard, so clad in full armor, prepared to 'slay the dragon' (iow: take the bird away from the cat) I threw open the door, and before I could get one foot out, in comes my sweet faced little Darla with a gargantuan Blue Jay in her mouth. And that Blue Jay was giving Darla every cuss word in every language as loud as he could, and Blue Jays are pretty loud. In about a half of a nanosecond, there were 5 or 6 other cats gathering around to cheer Darla on. But I was swift, and tackled Darla immediately, sort of squeezing her and in a threatening voice told her "DARLA, GIVE ME THE BIRD". (by the way ....David Yehudah, I'm not talking about the finger) Of course, that didn't work, and the bird, who was visibly shaken, totally pi**ed off, but seemingly unharmed was just squawking like crazy right in tune with the half dozen or so Blue Jays outside the window. It was more than a little bit un-nerving.

Then I tried prying the bird out of Darla's mouth, but feared that she might clamp down harder on the poor thing, so I decided to take an entirely different approach. I sat back a bit, and started petting Darla and telling her what a big hunter she was, and how clever she must have been to take down such a mighty bird. At which point I'm pretty sure that bird re-directed his string of cuss words at me, but my method worked like a charm! The bird flew off to another part of the house, Darla, quite pleased with herself, sashayed over to be food bowl, and I jumped up and ran after the cats who were all headed in the direction that the bird went. I caught up with them in the hall-way right next to the master bedroom door where I could see two more cats headed out to see what was going on. I quickly shut the door, then with lightening speed, started grabbing cats, one by one, and tossing them in the bedroom, closing the door after each one which became harder and harder with each cat.

Finally!! I had them all contained, except Darla, who was no longer a threat. I guess she figured her work was done. At this point, I was able to focus my attention on the bird. He was still cussing, probably because Darla had relieved him of a few tail feathers, and ruffled up most of his others, and I could see that he meant business with the next anything that touched him, so I found a large paper grocery bag, and after a couple of minutes was able to coax him inside. I took him out back to his still squawking buddies, and let him go. He flew off, not real gracefully, but pretty good, all things considered. Now, the cats take turns sleeping in the 'bird bag' which is in our bedroom on the floor in the corner, and my sweet faced little Darla, I could swear is walking a bit taller.

Copyright © Bonnie
August 26, 2000