A Little Birdy Told Me Something

A peculiar day it has been, besides our quest through bureaucracy at York today. I went to sit outside to read Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere, but then I heard a bird chirping and the sound of thrashing. I looked out into the yard to see Cleta, our youngest, black cat, parading about with a live bird in her mouth. This was no ordinary sparrow she is wont to kill, but something bigger, about the size of a robin (though it wasn't one). After summoning my father to my aid, we pried the bird from the cat's mouth, put the bird-killer inside, closed the rear door, and set about capturing the bird to set it free. Now just imagine two men chasing a little, barely-discernable bird across a tiny backyard in near darkness, with only the faint glow of a porch light to guide them. Lucky for the bird, only its wing was slightly hurt - so after we raised it to the fence it flew off.