I stepped outside with my coffee this morning, hoping to take in the fresh air and sunrise. I ended up in a situation that escalated quickly.
Fritter was way over by the blueberries, gaze focussed on the netting. There was a trapped treasure: a bird, a juvenile hiyodori, flitted from side to side of the enclosure. Its friend was in a nearby tree, sometimes flying down to perch on the bars.
Birds get into the netting sometimes but rarely get out by themselves. That makes me sad, so I decided to help by opening the door and distracting the cat. Only the distraction didn’t last long and soon Fritter was in the blueberries stalking the bird a lot closer.
I tried to encourage the frantic bird towards the door, but he was hesitant to swoop under the netting. I tied it up, but that didn’t help. And now Beryl had wandered in to join us.
The dynamic of the hunt changed. Beryl is patient. Fritter is a showboat. While she sat and watched, Fritter ran back and forth, chasing the bird. He leapt at it. Beryl waited for the bird to get tired. And it did eventually take a long rest clinging to the net while the cats positioned themselves. Fritter leaped again and got the bird in his mouth. That was not the outcome I wanted.
I managed to get the hiyodori away from Fritter. I carried it to the safest place I could think of, the stone fireplace behind the blueberries. I apologised and wished it well. When I checked about ten minutes later, it had recovered enough to sit up.
I closed the door and fastened the netting, encouraged the cats to follow me, and came inside to finish my coffee.
Thirty minutes later as I was finishing this writing, I hoped for better closure on the situation, so I went back out to check on the bird. He was gone. Beryl was suspiciously close, though, and asking to be let back into the netting. No, ma’am. No more blueberry birds.
