So I go downstairs to get my shoes on to go outside and get the bird away from him. I walked into the kitchen where it quickly became apparent that Rick and the bird were not outside. They were on my kitchen counter. And the bird was freshly caught and very much alive. I praised him for him hunting prowess and grabbed him by the scruff and paws. He let go of the bird.
And the bird flew away.
In my house.
Down into my basement.
The kids of course loved this. I however wondered if I could somehow sneak back in bed before the babies woke up and I could catch the bird later. Alas, it was not to be. Down the stairs I went, where we looked for 15 minutes for a tiny little sparrow. The girls had to get on the bus so the oldest took over with me. (She goes to middle school and they start late) We eventually found him shoved behind the fish tank. I went to grab him and found that he can fly really well. He flew all over and landed in the fish tank water. He freed himself and off he went up the stairs into the kitchen. On the top of the fridge, behind the fridge, on the stove, and onto the pita chips.
I was by this point, completely awake and more interested in getting a good picture then getting the bird. Which I did. I caught the bird nestled in between the pita chips and the quinoa. Very cute bird. We opened the door, and let him go. The babies woke up. I wonder if it is a warning on the kind of day I am going to have?