I awoke this fine morning to the sounds of rustling paper. We sleep with a fan going for white noise and I assumed - before I actually opened my eyes - that the fan had simply blown over some of the papers I had stacked in my lil' office corner. Upon opening my eyes, I saw a bird perched on the Burger King paper crown hanging from the wall mirror on the wall opposite me. We blinked at each other a few times before it flew across the room to wedge itself in the wardrobe among Poncho's hanging clothes. I sat up at this point and said something exclamatory that both woke Poncho from his deep slumber and charged him with the task of removing the bird. Sleepy and confused, he grumbled something and I quickly took over bird-duty.
"Fetch me oven mitts," I said, with conviction and urgency.
"...huh?" He replied.
I got to my feet as the bird flew back across the room from the wardrobe and proceeded to fly rather enthusiastically into the wall mirror, ricochet back a few inches from the impact, and fling it's small body once again against it's own reflection. Dazed, the bird then flew erratically all over the room for a few moments with me in hot pursuit. It went under the bed, and back to the wardrobe, and over to the back of the closet door, where it perched on one of my hats and I caught it! with one of Poncho's hats. But when I tried to close the door to get better access to the bird under Poncho's hat, it escaped! and flew back across the room to collide once again with the wall mirror. It then proceeded to fall down in between the desk and the wall and when I caught up with it and peaked under the desk to try and find where it had landed, it was all splayed out among the wires, looking quite confused and pitiful. I grabbed at it, but it dislodged itself and flew past me to begin the chase around the room once again.
Finally, I did catch it. It had fallen down beside the desk, where there is space enough for a floor lamp's base to sit comfortably between the desk and the wall. It was facing the wall and I came at it from above. It gave a pitiful squeak when I caught it, but did nothing to fight back once I palmed it. I stroked it with my free hand to try and calm it, and for what it's worth it's little heart did slow after several strokes. I also took the time to smooth it's ruffled feathers and pet under it's beak, and took it outside to release it back into the wild. Once outside, however, it refused to leave my hand. I had opened it up next to a bush, hoping it would at once make it's escape. It just sat there. It's feet were curled up under it's body and it wouldn't even stand on it's own. This horrified me, but I felt sure it was just in shock and not physically injured as it kept blinking at me and at it's surroundings in turn. I petted it a few more times while leaving the hand that held it open, and kept gesturing the holding hand towards the bush until finally it hopped up to it's little feet in my palm, and then flew off into the undergrowth beneath the bush. Since it was utterly FREEZING outside this morning, and I was without my slippers, I hurried back inside to the compared warmth of my apartment.
This left us with the question of how the HELL the little bird got into the bedroom in the first place. The windows are all closed.
???
But that, dear friends, is my story for the day.
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