Look what the cat dragged in!

After she chased this little fluff head all around the house for an hour, I finally figured she wasn't going to close the deal. I threw a tea towel over him. He seemed in pretty good shape, not counting a few missing tailfeathers.

I tried to place him with a rehabilitationist, who went into the flat panic I have come to expect from trained animal-handling professionals. So I put him in the spare room with some seed and toast and soft fruit and water and suet. After five days, he was flying around well enough, so I opened the window and left him to get on with it.

Alas, he showed up a day or two later, dead in the clutches of puss. Either not quite up to fleeing or terribly unlucky. And thus is the world short one house sparrow.

I am sorry, bird.