This morning started in a more chaotic way than normal. I arrived in my kitchen and looked out of the French doors at one of my cats, Tiger, for that is her name. She seemed to be concentrating on something and the something turned out to be a fledgling thrush, which thankfully hadn’t been mauled to death.
I rushed out of the house, shooed the cat away and then went to find something to help me catch the bird, because it wouldn’t have survived another two minutes on the patio. I know that some would challenge getting involved, but my view was that either the bird died there and then, or I gave it a fighting chance of survival. I preferred the later.
Armed with a few big sheets of kitchen roll, I grabbed the thrush and transferred it to the shed roof.
Phew thought I, the bird is safe.
As I walked away from the shed, blow me, I spotted two more fledglings by the fence and rushed to move them too. By this time one of our other cats, Pixie, was in the garden too and keenly interested in the hunt.
During the chaos, the fledglings’ parents were creating a right cacophony and flying around to distract the cats.
With three thrushes successfully moved to the shed roof I thought that was that …
But “that” wasn’t because the birds jumped/flew off the roof and back into the garden …
… and the pantomime began all over again. I could hear the Benny Hill theme tune in my mind as I went back
through the previous loop but this time with two cats on the prowl.
With three thrushes successfully moved to the shed roof for the second time I thought that was that …
But “that” wasn’t because the birds jumped/flew off the roof and back into the garden …
… and the pantomime began all over again again.
I kid you not, I went through the capture and release rigmarole four times.
And then I had to leave the house for work.
Despite my best efforts, the omens were not good, I drove to work expecting to find some corpses by the back door when I got home in the evening.
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I rushed out of the house, shooed the cat away and then went to find something to help me catch the bird, because it wouldn’t have survived another two minutes on the patio. I know that some would challenge getting involved, but my view was that either the bird died there and then, or I gave it a fighting chance of survival. I preferred the later.
Armed with a few big sheets of kitchen roll, I grabbed the thrush and transferred it to the shed roof.
Phew thought I, the bird is safe.
As I walked away from the shed, blow me, I spotted two more fledglings by the fence and rushed to move them too. By this time one of our other cats, Pixie, was in the garden too and keenly interested in the hunt.
During the chaos, the fledglings’ parents were creating a right cacophony and flying around to distract the cats.
With three thrushes successfully moved to the shed roof I thought that was that …
But “that” wasn’t because the birds jumped/flew off the roof and back into the garden …
… and the pantomime began all over again. I could hear the Benny Hill theme tune in my mind as I went back
through the previous loop but this time with two cats on the prowl.
With three thrushes successfully moved to the shed roof for the second time I thought that was that …
But “that” wasn’t because the birds jumped/flew off the roof and back into the garden …
… and the pantomime began all over again again.
I kid you not, I went through the capture and release rigmarole four times.
And then I had to leave the house for work.
Despite my best efforts, the omens were not good, I drove to work expecting to find some corpses by the back door when I got home in the evening.
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