Giffords Wildlife Sanctuary - pt 2

Second verse, same as the first.

Well, not quite.

I was woken up this morning by an ungodly whistling sound. Sound familiar ? Yep.

Scooter AND Kismet up in our bedroom. WITH ANOTHER BIRD. DagNABBIT.
Zero to WIDE AWAKE in under three seconds, thenk kyew very much.

10 seconds - I holler downstairs -- Babe ? Need HELP !
25 seconds - Yank Scooter off the bird. Again. And go throw him outside the bedroom door.
45 seconds - Realize the damn door did not close and I still have two cats and a bird loose.
1 minute - Throw Scooter out AGAIN and shut the door, making sure it LATCHES this time.
2 minutes - Still no Robert. The litany in my head is "don't poo on the bed, don't poo on the bed, don't poo on the bed. . . "
2.5 minutes - No bird visible.
3.5 minutes - Bird is DEFINITELY visible. He is clutching our curtains on the bedroom window. Good for him. Oh, nooooo -- dim bird flies at the skylight in our bedroom, then ends up over in the corner on the other side of the room. Have I mentioned that Kismet is super fast ? She looks like a deadly black otter. Kismet joins Scooter outside the door because I am super fast as well. Such a lie. I am a quasi-worrysome creamy eggshell panda. SLAM !
4 minutes - I take a moment to catch my breath and think. "Don't poo on the carpet, don't poo on the carpet. . ."

7 minutes - I shut the bathroom door and start looking for the bird. Same type as yesterday, by the way. The dumb type.
7.25 minutes - Robert has apparently fallen into a wormhole.
8 minutes - I spy the bird -- because he flies DIRECTLY at the skylight again. POINCK !
9 minutes - Bird takes refuge in the curtains. No, I mean IN the curtains. He is hanging in the tabs of the curtains underneath the curtain rod.
10 minutes - Robert who ?
11 minutes - my brain is already exhausted with the possibilities of how I am going to get this bird downstairs under the watchful eyes (and NOSES and CLAWS) of two cats who are still scratching and whining at the door.
12 minutes - bird solves my problem.

Note: Robert has STILL not managed to come up and "help", so. . . the dear readers will have to take my word for what happened next. I still am mystified. The bird flies from the curtain to the skylight and around the room. Once. Twice. Third time, he heads for the door and I. Catch. Him. In. My. Hands.

I have NO IDEA how this has happened. I credit Mr. Miagi and the lesson about catching a fly with chopsticks because I have no other explanation. Either that or the viewing of Kung Fu Panda last night has opened up my chi.

Bird nestles in my hands like he has good sense and I take this as a sign. Downstairs we go, with both cats now searching the bedroom like CSI:Gig Harbor. I nonchalantly go downstairs and have a small chat with Robert regarding his helpfulness and instant recognition of my need for IMMEDIATE assistance. He laughs. Ha. Ha. There was also something he mumbled about him replying and not hearing anything else from me, but I honestly heard a lot of Charlie Brown teacher-talk at that point. whaa-whaa-whaa

Cats are now downstairs, realizing that we have something that they are not privy to. I hand over the bird to Robert as. . . close your mental eyes, please. . . I have my sleeping clothes on and they are not fit for public viewing. I ask him to take the bird out to the very back of our yard and release him. Robert hears "release" and so, opens his hands immediately out the door.

Cheepster 2, cats 0.
Updates as events warrant.

Thoughts ?