Silvia, the fat gray cat of this household, caught a rat last month and today caught a bird. I think this proves the process of evolution, because only a really slow rat or a really dumb bird would have gotten caught by the tub of lard named Silvia.
But catch a bird she did and she released it in the house. It was a sparrow and she chased it all over the house, bird in the air, cat on everything. There are feathers spread everywhere but the kitchen and the bedrooms. I blocked the doorway that leads to the bedrooms and got a tennis racket out to try to confine the bird to those parts of the house in which feathers had already been left.
I managed to separate bird and cat and opened the door to the patio wide. Silvia got the bird and ran outside. She left it by the back door to the family room. I got Silvia back in the house and walked to the store, exiting via the back door of the family room and stepping over the bird. The bird was on its side, gasping fitfully. I was wondering about the most humane way to dispose of the bird because it was clearly suffering. When I came back from the store, it was on its feet, eyes closed.
I wondered about the ethicality of leaving the bird to die or be picked off by another cat. I thought that perhaps it was best to let Nature take its course and if I needed to help Nature along later, I would.
After a couple of hours, Silvia started to make a commotion and cry at the back door of the family room. I tried to ignore her abut after a while, I decided to let Nature take its course on that one also and let her go back outside. I let her out onto the patio and then ran to the back door of the family room. I opened the door and the bird, startled, hopped into the air and flew into a nearby tree.
Fly away, little bird, fly away.