
last friday morning, the witch-baby came rushing into the house with something suspiciously feathery between her teeth. i threw my hands up to my face and gasped "Peg!" mr. a-go-go chased the witch-baby into her room (she sleeps with the sister a-go-go) and managed to scare her into dropping the bird. it wasn't Peg but i tiny mad house finch that flapped like mad all flippity-flappity about the room. I dashed into the kitchen for a plastic tub with a lid and managed to catch it my heart beating almost as fast as the tiny bird's. it had lost quite a few tail feathers and managed to fly away to safety atop the fence in the garden. poor thing. the witch-baby then hid under the bed for the rest of the day and a good portion of the next. i can't be mad at her, she is after all, a cat and cats hunt so she did. when she was a kitten she used to bring me butterflies and grasshoppers, she never managed a bird before so i guess i am grateful for small favors.
I know that heart stopping moment all too well... thank goodness for the happy ending.
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