Well, this morning was a weird one. I woke up to find Catherine's neighbor knocking on a window. She was yelling to her daughter to open the window. I became immediately confused, as the conversation seemed to be about a bird and a cell phone. I then heard some panicked screaming, and a door shut. Shortly after, the doorbell rang. Sighing, I dragged myself out of bed. Last night, I had the worst headache I've had since my hospital trip, so I was half convinced that I was hallucinating the whole thing. With a dirty shirt on, I stumbled downstairs.
What I found was an interesting sight indeed. The neighbor was in an absolute panic, and when she saw me, she ran up to me immediately. She quickly guided me into he apartment, and there, in a corner, was a terrified sparrow. Chuckling, and certain this would be easy to deal with, I took two steps toward the small bird. It became a pterodactyl. The screeching, panicked skybeast began flinging itself into every wall and mirror it could, in a desperate attempt to get away from me.
Shielding my face, I went straight after it, convinced that my experience with a cockatiel my mother owns made me qualified to get him. After chasing him around for a good five minutes, I had the bright idea to get a hand towel and attempt to net the poor bird. It worked to an extent, but every time I got him, it became difficult to pick him up without hurting him. Finally, Catherine arrived, and helped me. We got him stuck between a mirror and the wall, and then, like some kind of bird whisperer, she easily picked him up. Releasing him outside, we bid farewell to the little guy.
It was a strange morning, but it taught me something important. Catherine, unlike most girls, is not utterly terrified of tiny birds. Good to know.
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