![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Two days of the robin
Sunday, 8 May 2016 11:10 pmIt Wouldn't Make Sense For God To Set Up A Universe Where He Had To Keep Track Of Every Sparrow And Step In And Fix Things With Miracles. Better To Have Billions Of Sparrows And Check In Less Often.*
-:- -:- -:- -:-
Saturday evening I had the front door propped open and Meg was running in and out. And during one of those runs he had a bird in his mouth.
Meg has become quite adept at catching birds and he has a very soft mouth. He brings the damned things into the house and lets them go and they're perfectly fine except for being shook up from having been abducted by a stupid cat. I hollered at him, of course, and shooed him back out. I thought he took the bird back out with him.
Everything seemed fine until ten thirty or so, when I started hearing rustling in the bedroom. I thought it was Meg, but when I went in to see I found a young robin standing on my pillow.
Have you ever walked into your bedroom and found a wild bird standing on your pillow? My life is strange, but this is passing strange even for me. I looked for an empty box of some kind to catch the robin in, but while I was doing that, the robin hopped away, over by the window under the chest of drawers. I pulled the screen out of the window, hoping the robin would get the idea. I already knew you can't reason with a bird.
Then I went in the bathroom to get ready for bed, and to give the robin some time alone to locate the outside world.
This did not happen. By this time it was very late, so I changed my pillow case, closed the window, and went to bed.
Today I opened the window first thing and kept it open all day.
The robin still didn't find the outside world. But around four I heard rustling again and when I went in, I saw him in front of the chest of drawers. I quickly stuck the box over him, slid a piece of cardboard under him, and dumped him out the window.
Meg was outside when I did this and he came over to see what was up. He sniffed the robin—who was just sitting there—but that was all.
I haven't checked on the robin since. I hope he's all right, but there's only so much I'm willing to do. I'm sorry Meg's hunting includes birds, but he's a cat. I don't know what more anyone could expect from him and I can't break my heart over every stray bird. At least I think he's stopped stealing eggs. (He used to raid nests and eat the eggs.)
*Mark Vonnegut
-:- -:- -:- -:-
Saturday evening I had the front door propped open and Meg was running in and out. And during one of those runs he had a bird in his mouth.
Meg has become quite adept at catching birds and he has a very soft mouth. He brings the damned things into the house and lets them go and they're perfectly fine except for being shook up from having been abducted by a stupid cat. I hollered at him, of course, and shooed him back out. I thought he took the bird back out with him.
Everything seemed fine until ten thirty or so, when I started hearing rustling in the bedroom. I thought it was Meg, but when I went in to see I found a young robin standing on my pillow.
Have you ever walked into your bedroom and found a wild bird standing on your pillow? My life is strange, but this is passing strange even for me. I looked for an empty box of some kind to catch the robin in, but while I was doing that, the robin hopped away, over by the window under the chest of drawers. I pulled the screen out of the window, hoping the robin would get the idea. I already knew you can't reason with a bird.
Then I went in the bathroom to get ready for bed, and to give the robin some time alone to locate the outside world.
This did not happen. By this time it was very late, so I changed my pillow case, closed the window, and went to bed.
Today I opened the window first thing and kept it open all day.
The robin still didn't find the outside world. But around four I heard rustling again and when I went in, I saw him in front of the chest of drawers. I quickly stuck the box over him, slid a piece of cardboard under him, and dumped him out the window.
Meg was outside when I did this and he came over to see what was up. He sniffed the robin—who was just sitting there—but that was all.
I haven't checked on the robin since. I hope he's all right, but there's only so much I'm willing to do. I'm sorry Meg's hunting includes birds, but he's a cat. I don't know what more anyone could expect from him and I can't break my heart over every stray bird. At least I think he's stopped stealing eggs. (He used to raid nests and eat the eggs.)
*Mark Vonnegut