Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Bird Catching 101

... or why cats and bird feeders don't mix...

Today as Emma's cat brought us a frozen sparrow-cube as a present I was reminded of Mr. Pretties and I pre-children and the first cat Mr. Pretties had ever owned.

When Mr. Pretties and I first lived together we lived on the third floor of a century home in a neighbourhood that sported a whole lot of pigeons (Hey, don't judge me, I can't help it if the pigeons have good taste in housing... or something like that...).
I was 8 months pregnant with Meaghan when Mr. Pretties opened the door to let Screamer in (he was siamese, what can I say?), but noticed nano-seconds too late that he was also with bird. Very. Large. Bird. Screamer was a very small cat. And he's hauling this bird that's atleast twice his size. Picture a guinea pig trying to haul in a turkey... you get the idea. He comes in making that trilling noise that only a cat with a present can make. Me, having years of experience with cats bringing things home thought nothing of this event aside from 'Crap. Now I have to take it out and bury. Thanks you little weiner...' while Mr. Pretties is a complete raving nut. "Why on earth would a cat do that?!" "How the hell did he catch that thing?!" "Is he going to eat it?!" "We have to get rid of him, he's wild!" And so on and so forth...
As I'm preparing to remove Screamers snack of choice he lets go. And it takes flight. It is not dead, nope not. at. all... And, it's flying around my livingroom. There is a very enormous, angry pigeon flying around my livingroom, and me in my very pregnant state trying to catch it (hello?! I'm not a cat!) while trying not to collapse in hysterical laughter.
Where was Mr. Pretties you ask? Why he was standing in the bathroom with the door shut, waiting for me to give him the all clear... what a man...

I did end up catching it and releasing it outside, but if someone had taped us looking in it would have been very comical. I still thank the stars to this day that that pigeon had been kind enough to turn off his poop generates as they're infamous for the good old 'poop and fly' method of making large messes. I can't even fathom the mess my livingroom would have taken on. We would have had to move. Clearly.
Ahh... memories.
And what ever became of Screamer? Someone thought he was so fabulous that they stoll him off our front porch a couple years later, and who was the most upset about it? Mr. Pretties... it's a good thing he's such a brute and hates pets so much. Right.

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