I arrived home this afternoon to find two kittens waiting to greet me at the door, with expressions of angelic sweetness and innocence on their furry faces. I instinctively distrust such sweet expressions, but couldn't identify anything obviously wrong.
I then started work on the computer, and phoned my mother. Mid-call, I heard a squeaky cry. It wasn't a cat, and I was pretty sure it wasn't one of their squeaky toys. I turned round and found Monsignor Furretti looking rather intently at the sofa, while Monsignor Miaowrini was nowhere to be seen. Another cry came from behind the sofa...
Meanwhile, I had grabbed a towel. I dropped it over the fluttering bird, which then went still. I gathered the bird up in the towel, much to the kittens' disgust, and carefully checked to see if it was injured. It didn't appear to have any teeth-marks puncturing anything, though it looked somewhat ruffled and more than a little disgruntled. I couldn't resist taking a photo (the camera was out because I'd been downloading the photos I'd taken earlier) but it's incredibly difficult to take a photo with one hand and so the picture's a bit blurred...
I then walked outside and held the towel open. The bird promptly flew off, albeit a little unsteadily. I think it reached some nearby trees.
I expect more wildlife will arrive in due course. Now, if I could just train them to bring me a steak...
remember Mac they bring you presents to show how much they love you:)
ReplyDeleteAs for the bit about going behind the sofa our cat Mini has a habit of exploring closets, open chests of draws and and the local rooftops (due the fact that she tends to get stuck I have curtailed her liberties).
We were adopted by a cat a couple of years ago who had similar interests - and skills! Sometimes he would leave us a whole fieldmouse upon the doorstep. On other occasions he would consume the mouse leaving simply the creature's digestive tract for our entertainment- a trophy of the dissector's art! Having seen a number of birds suffer, I placed a bucket of water outside the door- and subsequently used it in order to rescue a baby rabbit from his clutches. I suppose I am far too sentimental to be a cat owner.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was living at home my cat Napoleon would bring me dead mice. One time he brought me half of one. I assumed he ate one half and was "kind" enough to give me the other!
ReplyDeleteYes, after I read about the monsignori beginning to venture outside, I was wondering when I would read the post about the first "present."
ReplyDeleteLast year, our female cat brought a dead bird in and dropped it on the living room rug. This spring, we found a half-digested mouse in the driveway, and, a week or so later, the cat had a dead baby bunny in her mouth. My husband had been able to rescue other bunnies in previous years.
My previous female, the late, great Minnie, also had a fondness for the wildlife, little brown birds especially. One day she left two birds and a chipmunk in the cellarway, which was a three-walled death chamber for such unhappy fauna. The day she caught a cardinal, however, drove my dad and his wife (with whom I then lived) to purchase a bell for her and make me put it on her. That ended the "presents" for about a year.
At least your monsignori are not like my cousin's cat, who used to bring in dead snakes and leave them in her food bowl.
Yes...I will never forget the time the late, great Rocky the Striper-Puss brought me a live mouse. In bed. At night. Dropped it right on my pillow. It failed to have the effect he was evidently hoping for.
ReplyDeleteSylvester went through a phase of bringing me presents... usually half-chewed mice, though he did attempt to teach me how to catch them for myself on one occasion...
ReplyDelete...of course, that was before he got too old and fat to catch anything. I guess the kittens have years of present-giving ahead of them...
LOL!
ReplyDeleteWe used to joke that the only way our late lamented male cat would ever catch anything was if the creature was stupid enough to let him accidentally sit on it--at which point it would have been smothered in the rolls of fat and fur.
But his sister was--and still is--much more adept and would occasionally let him play with her prey when she got bored . . .
But it doesn't matter whether it's kittens or children, that angelic look is an immediate red flag.