So, Janice showed me this last night, and I thought I'd share. Enjoy.
Our own recent bird adventures have been more mixed and more dramatic. A few days ago (Thursday?) Feanor caught and brought inside a chickadee. I managed to rescue it, I thought, and put it back out on the balcony (despite loud protests from him about 'legitimate prey'), but though it didn't have any visible injuries I either didn't handle it gently enough when picking it up or it simply died of heart failure after the terror and trauma; when I checked on it a little later it was still and dead. Then early this morning I heard Janice calling me and rushed downstairs in the early a.m. to find that another little bird had gotten in and was being pursued by all three cats. This one was also a chickadee, but it seemed to be unhurt (Janice thinks it may have flown in on its own through the gap in the screen door we leave for Rigby to get in and out from the balcony). We had no idea how to shoo it back out again, as it flew about the dining room, perching from time to time on the curtain rods, but fortunately before we did anything it flew back out on its own, no doubt with stories to tell its fellows.
So, Feanor's bird tally now stands at six, with a chickadee added to the goldfinches we're usually trying to rescue from him. Whereas the seventh, today's, has the happy ending.
reading Le Guin
3 days ago