Perhaps I should start by mentioning that I live in Northwest Louisiana, and our seasons are: Sweltering Hot, Unbearably Humid Hot, and Crawfish. Then, I ought to tell you that the A/C died Friday, and I can't get a repairman until Monday. Inveriably, it will cost me $200 for him to flick a switch, or $2,000 to replace the unit that's been singning it's swansong. Either way, I'm unenthusiastic. Which brings us to our little tale of woe: the Birdie. He's pictured sitting on the finial of my sewing room curtains, above.
We have all the fans going and windows opened. All but the window on the kitchen door has a screen, and that's just cracked a smidge. And the curious little birdie couldn't help himself and let himself in. The cats went wild. My intrepid wanna-be hunter, Moshe, and 'the bitch' Catherine, (as seen in previous posts) colluded together to swipe tailfeathers of this poor wayward avian.
I gave the bird no chance. And wildly waving and pointing towards open windows just scared it. NOTE TO SELF: Hollering, "Hey Birdie, this window is open!" Doesn't do a damn bit of good.
So, when there was a terrible clatter in my sewing room with lots of excited kitty chattering, I figured he time was neigh. Nope. Not dead yet.
He was flying into closed windows, it was sad to watch, but it gave me an idea. One of the windows in the room was missing a screen. I opened it, and with my coaxing, and Moshe's dramatic leaping, chattering, and tail swishing, Birdie flew to safety. It took a few times, but it ended well. Until Moshe jumped through the open window to kitty-cat freedom as well.
Sigh. He's an indoor cat for a reason. He's a total pussy who gets his ass beaten by neighborhood brutes everytime he escapes. I found him sniffing at the hydrenga buds. *shakes head.*
Does anyone remember Brian Fellow's Safari Planet sketches from Sat Night Live? That's been in the back of my brain since this started.