So, we’ve gotten in the habit of letting deliveries marinate on our front porch for a day before bringing them inside. Yesterday we had a package dropped off. I noted it was right on the edge of the porch, in a cardboard box.
Last night around midnight, I heard rain begin. Because I was worried the box-on-porch might get soaked, I decided to go shift it inside.
Turned on the porch lights. Opened the door, and left it open behind me as I stepped out to move the box. And then remembered that we have our annual bird in a nest above one of our porch lights. Said bird freaked out when I stepped out, and… flew into the well-lit house, chirping loudly and flapping madly about.
I was most worried that our two cats would catch the poor thing before I could. I needn’t have worried about our big black idiot Dexter; he got as far as the stair landings upstairs, took one look downstairs, and Noped Out Hard back into our bedroom where he hid under the bed.
Cow-colored Zoidberg ran downstairs and was VERY VERY interested in tracking this flappy-flappy thing around the living room, kitchen, etc. When it finally landed on the living room floor, exhausted, I thought for sure she would pounce. But no, that it seems was the final straw for her, and she Noped Out Hard behind the couch. “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING AND WHY IS IT IN HERE!?"
Poor bird did manage another flight into the kitchen, where it fell behind flower pots on the window sill, and I was able to catch and release it out the front door. Poor wee thing was terrified, and had worn all of the feathers off the top of its head from banging against ceilings and walls. I left the porch lights on, so that hopefully it could find its way back to its nest. Hope it survives.
The cats, meanwhile, took a looong time to creep back out. Zoidberg especially looked reproachfully at me, because I always accuse her of hearing things that aren’t there. “THERE WAS A FLAPPY THING IN THE HOUSE, MAN!? I TOLD YOU, WE’RE NOT SAFE AND YOU IDIOTS NEVER BELIEVE ME!!”
I love our cats, and I’m grateful they are morons.
Last night around midnight, I heard rain begin. Because I was worried the box-on-porch might get soaked, I decided to go shift it inside.
Turned on the porch lights. Opened the door, and left it open behind me as I stepped out to move the box. And then remembered that we have our annual bird in a nest above one of our porch lights. Said bird freaked out when I stepped out, and… flew into the well-lit house, chirping loudly and flapping madly about.
I was most worried that our two cats would catch the poor thing before I could. I needn’t have worried about our big black idiot Dexter; he got as far as the stair landings upstairs, took one look downstairs, and Noped Out Hard back into our bedroom where he hid under the bed.
Cow-colored Zoidberg ran downstairs and was VERY VERY interested in tracking this flappy-flappy thing around the living room, kitchen, etc. When it finally landed on the living room floor, exhausted, I thought for sure she would pounce. But no, that it seems was the final straw for her, and she Noped Out Hard behind the couch. “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING AND WHY IS IT IN HERE!?"
Poor bird did manage another flight into the kitchen, where it fell behind flower pots on the window sill, and I was able to catch and release it out the front door. Poor wee thing was terrified, and had worn all of the feathers off the top of its head from banging against ceilings and walls. I left the porch lights on, so that hopefully it could find its way back to its nest. Hope it survives.
The cats, meanwhile, took a looong time to creep back out. Zoidberg especially looked reproachfully at me, because I always accuse her of hearing things that aren’t there. “THERE WAS A FLAPPY THING IN THE HOUSE, MAN!? I TOLD YOU, WE’RE NOT SAFE AND YOU IDIOTS NEVER BELIEVE ME!!”
I love our cats, and I’m grateful they are morons.
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