The day started off normally enough... Madam awoke, happy as usual, we FaceTimed with Himself so he could see her like he does every morning, we had our breakfasts and went swimming. We ran a couple of errands on the way home from the pool, came in for lunch and Madam collapsed exhausted on the sofa because sitting in the pool watching kids splash and jump around never fails to tire her out. She woke up, we had spoken to Auntie Godmother, and were Skyping with Mamasita when it happened...
Chaos.
A streak of fur, an explosion of feathers, a freaked out Madam.
That's right, folks, Kit brought a bird in the house.
It was her first, she's always been too lazy/fat/inept to actually catch anything, and we had become complacent in our belief that our cats just weren't hunters. I don't know if it's the birdfeeder I've put in the back yard, but somehow she actually managed to lay teeth to prey. And bring it in my %*^@£$ house.
Thank goodness for Skype. I set Madam in the kitchen in her high chair with a biscuit and the computer so The Madre could keep an eye on her (which turned out to be lucky because the cookie I'd given her went down a little too well and she got a bigger piece in her mouth than she could handle gracefully) while I began the Extrication Manoeuvres. Having chased the bloody cat out and shut the door, I tried pulling the couch out from the wall in the hopes that it would just fly out the open front door. No dice. A wet smear on the laminate and a few loose feathers were all that appeared. Luckily, the wet smear was just water. *shudder* I finally lifted one end of the couch up onto a box and poked the bird out with a mop, which thankfully seized its opportunity and headed for freedom.
I cleaned the floor, changed Madam into fresh clothes (because no food goes down without taking whatever outfit she's wearing with it) and called Himself to catch him up on the events of the afternoon. And to demand flowers for my efforts. Which if I don't get when he comes in, might lead to my booking a spa day at the weekend. So really, it'll be fine either way. *grin*
Anybody else got a good wildlife removal story? Do tell.
Chaos.
A streak of fur, an explosion of feathers, a freaked out Madam.
That's right, folks, Kit brought a bird in the house.
It was her first, she's always been too lazy/fat/inept to actually catch anything, and we had become complacent in our belief that our cats just weren't hunters. I don't know if it's the birdfeeder I've put in the back yard, but somehow she actually managed to lay teeth to prey. And bring it in my %*^@£$ house.
Thank goodness for Skype. I set Madam in the kitchen in her high chair with a biscuit and the computer so The Madre could keep an eye on her (which turned out to be lucky because the cookie I'd given her went down a little too well and she got a bigger piece in her mouth than she could handle gracefully) while I began the Extrication Manoeuvres. Having chased the bloody cat out and shut the door, I tried pulling the couch out from the wall in the hopes that it would just fly out the open front door. No dice. A wet smear on the laminate and a few loose feathers were all that appeared. Luckily, the wet smear was just water. *shudder* I finally lifted one end of the couch up onto a box and poked the bird out with a mop, which thankfully seized its opportunity and headed for freedom.
I cleaned the floor, changed Madam into fresh clothes (because no food goes down without taking whatever outfit she's wearing with it) and called Himself to catch him up on the events of the afternoon. And to demand flowers for my efforts. Which if I don't get when he comes in, might lead to my booking a spa day at the weekend. So really, it'll be fine either way. *grin*
Anybody else got a good wildlife removal story? Do tell.
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