Everyone loves a quiet night to veg out, right? Last night I let Sugar in around midnight. She was late coming in, but I hadn’t heard the coyotes so I guess she was taking advantage of the night out. Everyone here was in long since in bed, and I convinced myself that I was going to make like Cinderella and be to bed by midnight. Sugar came running in as soon as I opened the door – I was tickled I didn’t have to go out and get chilled as I called for her. So, in she ran, and as I locked up she sat sort of hunched over in the corner. When I went over to her she sat pleased as punch with a plumb sparrow between her paws. In my house…my living room actually.
“Argh! Drop it!” I yelled. She didn’t drop it, or move. She stayed firmly in place as I squirmed and ran for a towel and my golden retriever Maalik came over to investigate. I poked Sugar a few times and she got up and circled around as I tried to shoo her from the dead bird.
Except it wasn’t dead.
It flew up and whipped around my living room. Sugar leapt over the couch and into the window sill, up on the bookcase trying to catch the escapee. Maalik stood dumbfounded as I screeched and danced around the room. He watched the chaos between me and Sugar and the bird who had now hidden behind my husband’s suit that had been waiting for new buttons to be sewn on it all week.
I grabbed the cat - who moaned and complained about the injustice of her playtime coming to an end and put her behind a closed-door. I grabbed the towel and joined Maalik who stood guard at the suit. I opened the front door and readied my towel and slowly moved the sleeve of the jacket as the bird darted out and spun around my living room and landed on a chair. Readying the towel again, I took a few steps towards chair when the bird took flight and ended up back behind the suit. After two attempts and three screams (none of which woke ANY of my family members – good thing it was a bird not a bear!) I decided to wake my husband and pull the “you’re the man” card.
It took William three attempts (though no screams) to finally get the bird into the towel and outside where he released her. She flew off, high up into the giant Willow where she should have been all along.
By the time we got up to bed it was almost 1am. By the time I sunk my head into the pillow I was beat. My dog was beat. My husband was beat. But my cat had a tickle in her throat and spent the next 10 minutes trying to cough up what I can only assume were feathers. I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say – GROSS.
I guess one might say she got what she deserved, but I’m not quite sure what I was being punished for yesterday. My biggest crime that night was that I cooked a mediocre dinner, put the kids to bed early and watched two back-to-back episodes of Hoarders instead of writing or working on grant proposals.
Just desserts for such a minor crime? I think not.