This morning I discovered this was not a one-shot. And that she isn't always foiled.
Got up, went into the living room to check my morning mail, was quietly sitting and contemplating getting coffee, when I heard a rattling, as if something was in a cardboard box. But Cinder was curled up at the foot of the couch. A micro-earthquake, something I didn't feel? Huh. I hear it again. Dammit, did Cinder bring in a mouse? Then I spy a tuft of feathers, sigh, and look behind the shelves. And there is not the modest finch or dove I expect, but a full grown pigeon wedged in and looking at me with a yellow eye.
Comedy follows as I attempt to capture it. I do get a towel over it a couple of times, but let me tell you, an adult pigeon is hard to restrain. Those wings are strong. Fortunately, it rediscovers the ability to fly, and after locking Cinder out and myself and the pigeon into the bedroom, I open a window and chase it out.
I am an adult woman, and couldn't manage to hold onto the thing. Can you explain to me how an eight pound cat managed to capture, *leap a foot across and up carrying it*, and haul it through the not very large cat flap? The bird is longer than she is and nearly as tall! It wasn't even injured -- no blood anywhere, though it left feathers behind.
Need coffee now. Really need coffee.