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Soul of the Desert

That Little Convict

The Little Convict, otherwise known as Leo, is up to his old tricks again. It’s 26 degrees out. I was in the kitchen making potato bacon asparagus soup. Leo and Junior were in and out, mostly in because it’s 26 degrees out and night is starting to fall along with the temperature. I thought I saw something flit near my head, but when I looked I didn’t see any moths or other bugs that might have been carted inside. I checked the cats. Leo was out, Junior was in. He was looking up. I followed his gaze, but saw nothing.

I continued to blithely chop vegetables. Next thing I know Leo barrels through the cat door and comes flying into the kitchen. He does one of those stops where he slides because he’s so focused on…I follow his case to the top of the light fixture. A little tiny–and I mean 2 inches tiny–bird is perched there. Now, how did Leo know it was in here? And HOW DID IT GET IN HERE???

Leo doesn’t answer that question. He stalks the frightened bird. I yell for Husband. “What?” he yells back when I say, “Bird, Leo, Chandelier.”

“We don’t have a chandelier,” he says as he comes out of the music room.

“That thing.” I point at the light fixture.

“How did that get in here?”

I point at Leo.

The bird flies higher up the light fixture.

“It’s alive,” Husband says. “How are we going to catch it?”

“I don’t know. I think we better put Leo in the bedroom.”

“That’s a good idea.” He scoops up The Convict. Junior scurries behind a chair leg, but he isn’t a convict. He’s likely to point to the bird, but not necessarily interfere.

The bird begins flying about as birds will do. I decide to cover my soup with a lid. Call me paranoid, but I not only don’t want bird soup, I don’t want anything FROM the bird IN the soup.

The bird flies into the living room and perches high on a window sill. While Husband is in the garage looking for gloves, I climb on a rocking chair because it is closest. Teetering precariously, I nab the poor frightened bird before the chair can launch me across the room. I hate putting the bird out in the cold, but that is where it came from. Husband returns from the garage in time to open the back door. Junior, of course, follows us out, waiting patiently for us to put the bird where he can reach it.

I set the little bird free. Junior climbs a tree to give chase, but that bird isn’t sticking around.

When we let The Convict out, he inspected every perch in the house from multiple angles. He was pretty disgusted with us for letting his dinner out the back door.

I still don’t know how that bird got in here. I just know that somehow The Convict is guilty.

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Posted: January 2, 2018


  1. Giggle! Snort! Wheeeeeeeze! Snort!

    Comment by Dee/dragons3 — January 2, 2018 @ 10:40 pm

  2. Ditto!

    Comment by Margaret Lake — January 3, 2018 @ 6:43 am

  3. You know it is cold when the bird braves the house with cats to find a warm spot!

    Comment by April — January 3, 2018 @ 2:06 pm

  4. Oh Maria, you lead such a boring life or maybe I do after reading of your challenges today. How funny

    Comment by tibet — January 3, 2018 @ 3:12 pm

  5. Leo keeps us on our toes. And our chairs and our light fixtures…

    Comment by Maria — January 3, 2018 @ 3:18 pm

  6. How funny! Love your stories 👍🐧

    Comment by Heather — January 15, 2018 @ 7:44 pm

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