Last night, Purrsia[*] caught her first bird.

 

 

She's been basically an outdoor cat for the last eight months or so, and her agility and independence has only increased over that time.  She caught her very first animal - a mole - three weeks ago - we were all quite impressed and praised her (Mom doesn't like moles - they destroy the garden).   Last night, just before I got home, she walked into the kitchen with a small bird held, head first, in her mouth.  Dad shooed her outside and then she dropped the poor thing on the ground and sat back to watch it.  After a moment it twiched slightly and Purrsia growled, pounced, grabbed it in her mouth, shook it around a bit, and then dropped it again.  Dad expected it was very close to dead already (a cat we had in childhood was capable of jumping straight up, catching a bird on the wing and almost instantly killing it) so he just watched as she repeated this several times.  After about 15 or 20 minutes of this, the bird wasn't moving at all, even when Purrsia went up and poked it with a paw a few times.  Bored with this toy that had stopped moving, she left it where it was and wandered back into the kitchen just as I got home.

 

As it turned out, the bird was NOT dead - it blinked at me when I went outside to look at it.  I think it was basically shell shocked (wouldn't you be shell shocked if you'd just spent half an hour having your head repetatively stuck in the mouth of a predatory animal who was biting and shaking you at the same time?).  I picked up the poor thing and it didn't even try to fly away or anything although it was obviously frightened since it immediately pooped all over my hand. :-P

 

The bird had a "chubby" body, smaller than an adult robin (a bit too big to hold securely in just one of my hands).  It had a white breast with brown speckles, brown and white feathers and a mid length thin beak.  We thought it might be a juvenile robin, since juveniles of both genders often have quite dull colouring which is different from both male and female adults.

 

I went online to find out what to do for a hurt bird and found out that we should put it in a small box, with the lid on, and keep it warm with a water bottle wrapped in a towel or a heating pad on its lowest setting.  Hold it overnight to see if it recovers from its trauma - if it was okay, take it out and let it go, if it wasn't, take it to the nearest Wildlife Rehabiliation center.  So we got a shoe box (luckily I had some as I just bought two pairs of new shoes) and put the bird inside, then I warmed a hot/cold jell pack up in the microwave, wrapped it in a cloth napkin and put it in with the bird. I put the lid on, leaving it slightly ajar so it would have some light and put it outside in the backyard somewhere up high where the cat couldn't reach it.  I reheated the jell pack once just before going to bed.

 

This morning, the bird had recovered from the "shell shock" and was trying to jump up and push the lid off the shoe box (later, I found out that I should have closed the lid, as this would have stopped it from possibly hurting itself more by trying to get out).  I took the box down, opened the lid to see how it was doing, reached in to pick it up when it used the leverage of my open hand to leap away.  It flopped down onto the ground - it's left wing wasn't working and it couldn't fly.  I tried to recapture it, thinking it probably needed more help, but it was quite quick now (unlike the night before where it just sat in my hand without moving) and hopped away and under the fence into the neighbour's yard.  I figured that if it was able to get away from me it was probably okay as it was so I'd done as much as I could.

 

Two hours later, Purrsia returned from her first outdoor foray of the day with the bird firmly in mouth again!

 

I managed to recapture it this time, though it still put up more of a struggle than the night before.   Nathan got the box so I could put it back in and we put the lid on tight.  Another Google search turned up the Wildlife Rescue Association of BC, located just south of Burnaby Lake, and Nathan and I decided to take the poor thing there just after lunch.  In the meantime, Nathan decided to call it "Chirp."

 

After lunch, we drove to the WRA center, Nathan carefully holding the box still in the back seat.  The veterinarian who was on duty said that it was actually a Swainson's Thrush, it was obviously missing one tail feather and almost certainly had a broken wing.  They would give it some time to settle down and then do a full examination to see if they could help it or not - if they could help it they would do so, if they couldn't they would help end it's suffering through humane euthanasia.  Either way, Nathan an I are both happy to know that we'd done the best we could for the bird - it would either have a chance to get better or it would stop suffering as quickly as possible.

 

They gave us a case number so we can call back later to find out whether they were able to treat it or not.  I'll probably update this post when we know the result.