Okay, you know how Jack and I feel about our birds. In fact, Jack had to take a special trip to San Antonio last week to buy another Purple Martin condominium. We have quite a few Purple Martins right now, and Jack is getting worried that the babies won’t come back next year with their new spouses to set up housekeeping if they think there won’t be room for them. His logic is that if he goes ahead and puts up a new condo next to the existing condo, the babies will realize it’s there when they take their adventurous first flight, and come back next year for their honeymoon and happy nesting. So until dark, he was digging a hole and setting the pole in concrete for his grandchildren to return next year…
Earlier that day, I was in the house and Jack came running in with his hands cupped together and yelling, “honey get some hummingbird food, fast!” In his cupped hands was the tiniest little hummingbird, which he had just saved from the locked, mighty jaws of our sweet little kitty, Button Girl. How can such a sweet little kitty be so ferocious? It’s hard to get angry her because we know it’s just her little instinct to conduct such brutal acts of violence.
So I’m in the kitchen mixing up sugar water and Jack is holding this little precious feathered gift of life, telling me to “hurrrrry”…. Jack thinks if we get this little hummer to get a drink it will somehow get energized to gain the will to survive. Its little eyes are just staring at us with the most startled look. Is it thanking us for saving its life, or begging for mercy? He begins flapping his wings wanting to fly, but not going anywhere. We decide to take him outside to one of the feeders and see if it can get a sip, and at least, stand on his own. Jack placed him on a feeder and we both sighed with relief when we see that he is capable of keeping himself balanced on the feeder. A few more flaps of his wings, and he’s off. He was able to fly! Jack and I both start running with him as he’s flying, cheering him on with well wishes. The rest of the night we kept talking about that little hummingbird and hoping he had been reunited with his family and sleeping soundly.
Then, later that night, we had another winged-friend experience. It’s really late, and I’m on my laptop in front of the TV finishing up some work. Jack is in the chair next to me, asleep. All of a sudden I hear our other kitty, Festus, fly through the kitty door into the house. I can tell something is going on the way he rushed in and ran straight for the dining room, not even acknowledging my existence as he rushed past me.
In the dining room I can hear strange noises, thumps, and drags. I go into the dining room to see what the ruckus is about. I bend down over Festus to get a look. I can’t see; I get down closer. I still can’t see and bend down even closer, my face in Festus’ face and yikes! He has a bat, yes a bat, in his mouth! I start screaming for Jack…. I scream again, and again…. Finally, my Miracle Man comes wobbling in from his easy chair slumber, looking dazed and confused, and says, “Why are you yelling at me, what did I do?” About this same time the bat flutters up to the ceiling. I’m yelling and pointing to the ceiling, “Festus brought a bat in the house!” Jack is scratching his head, still trying to figure out if he’s dreaming or if this is real and Festus is giving me his evil eye look because I’ve just ruined his moment. I’m in freak-out mode, pointing and shaking my finger at the bat on the ceiling asking Jack how in the world he’s going to get it off our ceiling, which by the way is 20 feet high. And just what is my Miracle Man’s response? “It’s just a bat, leave him alone; it’s late, I’m going to bed.” I'm stunned! “What??? You can just go to sleep at a time like this, with a bat in the house?” As he turns toward the bedroom and walks away, I say, “You’re not going to do anything?” His reply as he keeps walking toward the bedroom in a half asleep stride is “The bat’s safe; Festus can’t get to it from the ceiling”. I’m thinking: he’s concerned about the bat’s safety, but not the safety of his darling bride?
It’s not 20 seconds later and I can actually hear my husband snoring from the bedroom! Literally, 20 seconds y’all! How can he get back to sleep so fast? So what do I do? I run as fast as I can to the bedroom, slam the door shut, jump in bed and cover my head for the rest of the night!
The next morning I get up and Jack is already drinking coffee and planning his day. I ask him if the bat is still in the dining room. He says, “Oh, I forgot all about that; I sort of thought it was a dream.” He takes a peak in the dining room and says, “Don’t see it anywhere.” (As if he’s referring to a ladybug or butterfly). I ask him, “Well what are you going to do about it?” He takes a sip of coffee and says, “it’s just a bat in the house, don’t worry about him, he’ll find a safe place to get”.