Jun. 11th, 2012

treefrog: a golden tree frog (Beauty)
Dave and I were roused from our peaceable, computer-related activities by a tremendous commotion at the back door. All four cats were riled about something, and there was a lot of high-volume magpie profanity coming from the back yard.

Well, most of it was coming from the back yard. Some of it was coming from the basement. More specifically, it was coming from a baby magpie that Emrys had cornered under a chair in the basement.

Such a goofy-looking critter it was! It was about the size of a softball and fluffy as all get-out, with a formidable baby-bird frown. Its wings were not yet full-grown, so it was relatively easy to catch. It proved to be unhurt but seriously pissed off. I took it outside, where it stopped struggling to get free, clamped its claws onto my hand and cussed me out.

It was eventually persuaded to transfer its grip to the roof of the shed, swearing all the while. No question where it learned that sort of language; its parents were squawking magipieish imprecations at me throughout the whole incident. There's gratitude for you, huh? I'm amazed I didn't get dive-bombed.

At least it wasn't a live mouse this time. That was much harder to catch!

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September 2012

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