The Bird Incident
When I got home last night, I pottered around for a bit - doing the usual evening round up. Nothing particularly seemed out of the ordinary. Until I went upstairs.
Blood. Lots of blood. Smeared all over the bannister, stairs, and carpet. This is where I start gettig worried that "Oh fuck! The cats had a fight while we were out." But then I notice something else amid the destruction. Birdshit. Thus my initial thought changes to "Goddamn fucking felines!" and I go on a hunt for the culprit and the corpse. My search reveals yet more destruction. The top of my bookshelf had been cleared off, although considering the dump that my room currently is it actually took me a while to notice. The bathroom didn't fare as well. More blood.
The last room on my rounds is my parents. Where I find the burd, bloody gash down the centre of its chest, perched in the cetre of the curtain rod and Tasha immediately beneath it in stalking mode. Tavish was off to one side - the relaxed spectator. Then came the fun of trying to catch the damn thing.
matt88 and I armed ourselves with towels. First item on the agenda was cat-wrangling, so that burd might be caught without further injury from claws and teeth. I snagged Tavish and tossed him in the closet. Matt accidentally stepped on Tasha and she fled under the bed. The bird, still terrified out of its little feathered brain refused to be caught, understandably. But then it flew into Matt's towel and bounced to the ground. I think it was finally out of energy by that point. It made a beeline for the chest of drawers and hopped under it. Eventually, we managed to bundle it in towels and get it outside, where we left it to fend for itself. If it doesn't die from shock, it'll probably die of blood loss. Stupid burd.
Clean up starts today. Just as well. House was a horrendous mess before avian massacre.
Blood. Lots of blood. Smeared all over the bannister, stairs, and carpet. This is where I start gettig worried that "Oh fuck! The cats had a fight while we were out." But then I notice something else amid the destruction. Birdshit. Thus my initial thought changes to "Goddamn fucking felines!" and I go on a hunt for the culprit and the corpse. My search reveals yet more destruction. The top of my bookshelf had been cleared off, although considering the dump that my room currently is it actually took me a while to notice. The bathroom didn't fare as well. More blood.
The last room on my rounds is my parents. Where I find the burd, bloody gash down the centre of its chest, perched in the cetre of the curtain rod and Tasha immediately beneath it in stalking mode. Tavish was off to one side - the relaxed spectator. Then came the fun of trying to catch the damn thing.
matt88 and I armed ourselves with towels. First item on the agenda was cat-wrangling, so that burd might be caught without further injury from claws and teeth. I snagged Tavish and tossed him in the closet. Matt accidentally stepped on Tasha and she fled under the bed. The bird, still terrified out of its little feathered brain refused to be caught, understandably. But then it flew into Matt's towel and bounced to the ground. I think it was finally out of energy by that point. It made a beeline for the chest of drawers and hopped under it. Eventually, we managed to bundle it in towels and get it outside, where we left it to fend for itself. If it doesn't die from shock, it'll probably die of blood loss. Stupid burd.
Clean up starts today. Just as well. House was a horrendous mess before avian massacre.