She's At It Again

Mickey, that is. I looked out the kitchen window and there was the beautiful grey cat playing with a half-grown little bird. This is about the 4th one she's caught this year. I ran out and got the bird. Poor little thing let me pick him up and hold him in my hand.

I couldn't tell how hurt he was. His head feathers were a bit wet and ruffled from Micky holding him around the neck. His tail feathers seemed a bit off kilter.

And one of his wings was a bit askew. I sat on the deck with him in my hand and he eventually flew about 10 meters away and landed in the rocks by the garage. I didn't want to leave him there in the bright sunlight so I picked him up again and put him in the cool grass by the deck.

I kept the cats in the house and after a couple hours when I went out to check on the bird, he was nowhere to be seen. Not knowing for sure what happened to him, I'm taking the optimistic route and assuming he gathered his strength and flew someplace safe where his parents and nest mates will nurse him back to health. Poor little thing.

Mickey is such a hunter. We can't fault her for doing what comes naturally, but we can rescue some of her prey. We let her keep the mouse she was tossing around in the back yard today.