Felix the Bruiser is called that because for the first 6 months of his life we thought he was a "Felicity". Once we found out he was really a "Felix", we tacked on the Bruiser part for his ego. Felix loves to hunt. So does all of the other 50,000 (OK, really it's 7, but it seems like more) cats around here. I can't tell you how many carcasses I've come home to, usually in my room because they like to bring their treasures there for display.
So there we were, Caleb and I, sitting in my room when in walked Felix. With a mouth full of feathers. I did a quick "life check" because I don't like to leave an animal to die in terror if I can help it. The bird in his mouth looked back at me and twitched.
Instantly leaping into action, I seized Felix and pried his jaws open. The little sparrow fell to the floor, and to the surprise of us all, scuttled off along the floor. That was too much for Felix, and what followed was a blur of activity.
"Catch him, Caleb!"
"Get Poppy (our butterball of an orange tabby) away from him!"
Before Caleb or I could react, Felix had the sparrow back in his mouth, clutched more firmly this time, and pointing in head first. I grabbed him again (I know, so rude), pried his mouth open again, and told Caleb to grab the bird out.
Caleb, always cool in a crisis, said, "I don't want to touch it!"
I was holding a jaw in each hand, but I managed to scoope the bird out with an extra finger or two I had lying around. The bird immediately scooted off again.
"Where's the bird?"
A few frantic moments later, we had the cats out of my room and the bird hiding in my closet. Caleb went up and got a kitty carrier and I put the dear little sparrow inside and covered the whole thing with a blanket.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Crisis over.
"Caleb, where's the bird?"
"It's right behind you."
Roadrunner, as we decided to call him, was small enough to fit through the bars of the cage. His slender physique was helped in no small part by the fact that a great many of his feathers had been lost when prying him (twice) out of Felix's mouth. Unwilling to accept the confines of his cage, he simply walked right through them, back out into freedom. Now he busied himself running and flying about my room, all the while chirping for his lost parents.
I decided that anyone who felt that lively was well enough to be returned to the wild the same night. I made all the cats come inside, then released young Roadrunner back into the wild to find his parents. Hopefully they join up, because the world is a dangerous place for a little birdie. Especially around here!
You would think after all that, we couldn't possibly handle more excitement, but you'd be wrong. We also hammered in tack strips and played a board game! Some people think unless you live in a big city and go clubbing every night, you must automatically die of boredom. I say you haven't lived until you've scraped a bird out of the throat of a cat! Try that for thrills...
|Aaah! He's so CUTE!|