i’m never getting the mail again

Before life got too complicated with three cats and a dog we just had Alegre.  Cute, sweet Alegre.  One spring afternoon I decided to get the mail.  Tim is usually in charge of this task and in my lack of practice, I forget one simple step: close the front door.  As I came back from the mailbox and began to go under the awning, a little bird flew right in front of me and into the house.  I freeze, thinking “how on earth did THAT just happen??”  My brain came back to the situation and started communicating with my body again, for action was required.  I drop the mail on the floor and race inside, throwing the door completely open.  That bird must have realized fairly quickly it was lost because it began to frantically fly all over the house.  It never found the front door again.  I chased it through the kitchen and into the family room and back again.  I opened the sliding glass door in the kitchen, hoping it would smell fresh air and head that direction.  Didn’t happen.   By this point, Alegre caught sight of the little bird and all hell broke loose.  I run out of the kitchen again, this time with oven mits on because of my bird flu fear, looking for the bird and see Alegre, blood lust in her eyes, jumping ten feet straight up in the air trying to catch it.  No question what’s on her mind.  I start yelling at her to stop.  I am NOT picking up a dead bird.  This only eggs her on to continue her acrobatics.  The bird is now doing all sorts of loops and spins and turns.  I don’t know if it was to intimidate or confuse but it wasn’t working.  I manage to chase Alegre into the bathroom and slam the door.  I turn my attention back to the bird while the bathroom door starts to shake back and forth from Alegre’s paws wrapped around the base, howling and trying desperately to break free.  At this point the bird has had about enough and is so afraid it doesn’t know what to think.  It flies right at me and then drops like a rock onto the floor.  Apparently the sight of me was a little too much.  My eyes bug out of my head.  I’ve just killed a bird from shock.  I gave it a heart attack.  I knelt down and stared at it, not seeing its eyes darting everywhere at first.  I can see it little brain trying to work out its options and thinking ” she’s watching me…not a good sign…”  I see its little chest going up and down a million times a minute.  It’s alive!  Then the guilt hits me.  I just broke its wings.  A bird’s death sentence.  I manage to get it onto a mit and then put the mit onto the kitchen table for closer inspection.  It sat there on the oven mit like it was paralyzed.  I don’t what I’m going to do with it so I continue to sit and watch for any sign of movement.  After a few minutes of us staring at each other it must have seen its chance.  Before I knew what happened it was up in the air again and flew right out the sliding glass door.

I had to sanitize those oven mits and Alegre has never forgiven me.


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