Cats Will Be Cats

... although sometimes I wish they wouldn't.

I came home yesterday to find that Tabitha had brought a bird into the house. There were soft feathers in the dining room that did not bode well. I needed to pee, so went into the bathroom, shutting out the dogs, but she zoomed in, not paying attention to me but crouching in that intent, self-conscious way cats have when they're chasing something. The bird, a bushtit, was behind the toilet, and when I reopened the door, flew out and into the study, landing on top of the corner bookshelves, where Tabitha followed it. Happily, she fell down the hole in the corner behind the shelves and couldn't get back out until I moved them. The bird, meanwhile, flew back into the bathroom, landing on the windowsill, where it fluttered and stilled, panting. I couldn't resist the chance to stroke it ever-so-lightly down its back, then opened the window and watched it dart away.

I hope it's okay.