So I walk in the house tonight with my arms full of stuff, and was greeted with what looked like a vandalized living room. When I surveyed the room, however, I saw that it was LOADED with feathers and several items knocked over and on the floor. "Damn it, CJ!" I thought. You see, my cat has been having a bit of a field day with some of the neighborhood birds. I have found a few deceased (and stinky) ones in my yard; another 'catbird' terrified and injured in my kitchen in front of my fridge, and my poor house/petsitter, Kara was greeted (on her 1st day here, mind you) by a decapitated bird in my yard (evidently she has a history with birds on Smick Street as well!).
So I grabbed the vacuum, got up ALL of the feathers and then put things back in place. Found CJ in the yard (just a-loungin' - he looked so proud of himself, the little sucker) and grabbed him, gave him a lecture, and put him in the house.
Talked to Dom for a bit, put some soup on, and went up to change. As I was pulling my shirt over my head I heard an awful commotion downstairs! I came running down thinking I'd find either Jack having a seizure (God forbid) or CJ having his way with another bird. What I found was a Mourning Dove, also terrified, perched on my record collection. ('At least this one's still alive!' I thought, very relieved). Ok, so what do I do now???
Ok, I need a box, or a blanket, definitely some gloves. But first, put CJ in the basement so this bird has a chance. Gloves, found one...put a sock on my other hand (yeah, I know). I didn't want to waste anymore time, so I thought I'd do what the guy at the Skuylkill Valley Nature Center rehab did and just pick the bird up. Well...as you can imagine, the dove didn't take to that very well, and started fluttering & flying around like crazy! Scared the living shit out of me and I screamed at the top of my lungs while backing the hell up! Poor thing went straight up into the ceiling (like that game at carnivals where you hit the thingy with the sledghammer and the thingy goes up). There's still a feather stuck to the ceiling...
So then I tried to cover it with a tablecloth, and managed to do so, until it busted out! I didn't think I could shriek like that...you know, so loud and high pitched that you keep hearing it over and over in your head and feel dumber & dumber?? The dove wound up knocking some more stuff down, loosing alot more feathers, and found refuge behind my couch.
After a few more attempts, door openings, shoo-ings, and re-positioning by Mr. dove-man all over my 1st floor (and me talking to him telling him I wasn't going to hurt him), I think we finally came to an understanding (or we were both too tuckered to keep fighting). I gently placed my gloved/socked hands around his wings (and tried not to shit my pants) - and Mr. dove-y-face let me! What a strange but cool feeling to have a bird in your hands (that what she said)...
I placed him outside on one of my ottomans, and then thought twice about leaving him there (he was a bit banged up and had a mark on his head from colliding with my ceiling). But before I could grab him again he was off into the sunset...
More vacuuming, overcooked soup, a confused Jack, but a happy birdy ending!
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