My sweet little Lefty sauntered into the kitchen with a bird in his mouth, feathers shaking off its body. He dropped it & leapt faster & higher than the poor little adolescent pigeon to snag it again. He's not used to the game & the bird got away, unhurt. I can't figure out how he caught it to begin with. It couldn't have come in our screened window but I don't think he brought it down from the roof. It got away another time or two & finally huddled on the coatrack. The two neighbor cats watched, staying far far from the scene. Maggie, the bird whisperer, came down, spoke sweetly & picked it up in a towel with no fuss; she's done this before. Up to the roof they went & in a moment the bird flew off. I wonder what Lefty was expecting. I guess like all urban creatures, his instincts have been deracinated.
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