In the mornings I usually wake up, eat, read, have cuddle time with Cat, and then head to the gym. This morning I had an appointment with a doctor so I hurried out the door and went to the gym afterwards. Before leaving the apartment I close all our windows -which are actually doors- on the off chance that someone gets brave and decides to try to break into our sixth story flat by coming over the edge of the roof or jumping from a neighboring building. I don't put many tactics past the thieves we live amongst. This morning was no different in that respect.
Four hours later I came home and was greeted by a very chatty and needy Cat. She is usually that way if Andrew comes home for lunch and I miss him or something. For some reason she feels the need to tell me about it. It didn't look like he'd been home today and the only thing different about the place was a little kitty hairball under the desk. She doesn't usually get so excited about those though. I just gave her some treats and attention before getting a few other things done.
As I was about to make a sandwich, I heard a light banging noise in our spare bedroom. Cat was already there looking in the room waiting for me to figure out what it was. She already knew. There, hanging between the door and its curtain, was a rather exhausted and frightened swallow. I panicked at first and closed the door, trying to shoo Cat away while I figured out what to do. Her attitude seemed to be a bit of an I-told-you-so one, which is better than the just-let-me-take-care-of-that-for-you one I was afraid she'd have. After mixing a few cuss words in with prayers I was saying for the bird, I went back in and opened the window. It headed for the opposite wall a few times and seemed determined to smash its way through the plaster to freedom. Eventually I was able to get it to turn around and take the less damaging route to freedom through the open window.
I can't figure out how it got in here other than flying in during the night last night. We sleep with all the windows open because of the heat (burglars here usually don't come in while you're home). The funny thing is that I slept in the spare bedroom last night. I had gone out for a girl's movie night and had been brave enough to order a Diet Coke at 10pm. Usually any caffeine after 3pm keeps me up all night. That is still the case. At about 5am, I wandered into the spare room to read without waking Andrew up. I have no idea if the poor bird was buzzing me all night because once I was asleep I was out. It could have built a nest in my hair and I doubt I would have woken up.
I am so proud of Cat, though, for not attacking it the whole time I was out this morning. I didn't see any blood or even any feathers missing on the poor thing. I think Cat was just in shock after having spent so many days hoping one of the pidgeons that land in our porthole window in the bedroom would come in and "play" with her. Or maybe she's learned that playing with birds generally ends in me prying her jaws open to let them fly away and then crying if they don't. Either way, I'm proud of her but that's the last time I blog about my cat. Not a crazy cat lady yet.
