Jack wrote this in July, 2006:
I was in here working on the numbers when I heard Tabby talking through her nose thumping the screen door. Went for a look and she had a mouth full of young finch.
I took it away from her. Didn’t appear to be too badly injured, but was in that catatonic-I-ain’t-waking-up-to-die thing birds do, so I cupped it in my hands and shot some healing and calm into it.
About five minutes of that and the heartbeat was strong, it began to stir and do a bit of minor struggling.
So I took it over and put it on top of the trash barrel to see if it could fly. It did. Flew to the porch where Tabby was sitting, watching.
In less time than it takes to tell it she had it again. This time there’s no question of me taking away from her again. Meal time.
So, Mr. Bald Eagle. Come in and get me, coppers.