His name was Feathers

The other night Bluka caught a little bird and brought it in the house.  I praised her, scooped up the little guy and took him outside.  Since Bluka follows me around everywhere I go, she followed me outside when I put him down.  He tried to get away but she would swat him back down and turned into Bluka the Torturer.  I couldn’t watch the circle of life so I turned and walked away with tears.  I shut the blinds to the sliding door and let nature take its course.  I honestly thought she killed him.

Last night I get home, go to open the sliding door and Holy Hannah there was bird in the tracks of the door.  So I scooped him up again, called April crying and told her that I didn’t have the heart to kill him.  While I was talking to her I decided to name him Feathers.  She later found a wildlife rescue place about 5 miles from my house and I called them, listened to the recording and did what they said.  Grabbed a shoebox, lined it with papertowels and placed him in there.  I kept him safe from Bluka the Torturer and called dad to arrange transportation to the rescue place hoping that he would be nursed back to health and be free to fly again.  I prayed he would make it through the night as he wasn’t opening his eyes and had a gash under his little wing.  But seemed alert and tried to fly away before I put him in the box.

I went to check on him this morning and Feathers has passed away during the night. I cried again, apologized for not doing more to save him the night before.  He will be getting a proper burial and I am going to make him a little cross as well.

Bluka the Torturer and little Feathers

After I had secured Feathers, Bluka proceeded to bring in frogs.  Guess they are not as fun as they froze when she dropped them on the carpet.  My great little hunter/torturer.