(I wrote this back in Feb. 2010)
We have two cats. One I think is autistic. Well, according to my lights. Or is that lites - these days? Spelling has gone out the window along with everything else. Anyway, the other day I walk into my office and Butternut (so named because he's an orange tabby - NEVER GET AN ORANGE CAT), is in there. He NEVER goes in my office. In the two months we've been here he is either on the couch or under it. Mostly under it. When he does get brave enough to come out and lie on it, should you walk by a little too close, he'll jump off and slink beneath.
Anyway - I see him in my office and find it mighty strange and follow his gaze to the top of the window. And there is a bird. Yes, a BIRD on my curtain rod. A rather terrified Wren I believe it to be. We had the garage door open, and yes, the door to the house too while unloading stuff from the car. Uh huh. I get Butter out of the room simply with a glance in his direction, and then proceed to try to catch the BIRD. HA! The Tommy Dorsey song begins to haunt me: "....The music goes 'round and around, Whoa-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho, And it comes out here." I make a grab here, whoa-ho-ho-ho-ho and the bird goes there. After about five minutes of that nonsense I enlist the aid of my better half. He proceeds to get out a pair of heavy work gloves (well, after all, you never know WHAT diseases these wild creatures may have!)
So together we attempt to corral the creature. "...the music goes round and round, whoa oh oh...." going back and forth to get implementa (like a towel, etc.) from the other room. Mugwump (the other cat) joins in the fray. I take him out of the room. The bird flies round and round and round. And we chase him round and round and round. Poor thing had it's beak open, gasping for breath. I figured, like the bats we've caught, it's just a matter of time until we wear them out.
Eventually he lands yet again on one of the three desks I have in the room, and very slowly I turned, step by step, inch by inch, I move up on him, clicking my tongue in bird speak (this actually works for many different kinds of animals) and slowly raise my hands on either side of him. I've used similar techniques with frogs but that's a one-handed deal in a slow, circular motion. In this case my two open palms gently, slowly close in on him and voila! FINALLY GOT THE BUGGER! And flushed the damn thing down the toilet. Of course not - I let him go.
I recalled after that, the son of the owner of this place saying something about birds coming into the garage and being a pain in the butt. The next morning I went into the garage and there were TWO more Wrens. SO, I guess this is going to be an ongoing THANG.
