Friday, September 28, 2007

An ominous start to the weekend.

Not actual size, nor bird.

Oh Chumlies, I tell you...I have aged ten years this morning. I'm still not right.

I was up and about, I'd had coffee and a slice of wholemeal toast, I checked my mail, my blog, glanced through the papers. All was well with the world. After a while I wandered up stairs in a leisurely fashion, thinking about Fullers best bitter ale and how I was going to do a post on it. I stripped naked, scratched Puddy who lay on my bed in a ham induced coma, picked up my dressing gown and then...
A terrific smashing sound from downstairs, followed seconds later by another, then a lot of what I can only describe as muffled thumping and what I thought was a rough sort of weird voice.
'What the fuck?' I said, in a lady like manner.
Puddy paused mid purr to look askance.
Now, the paramour had gone to work and I was alone, and nude. So naturally I did the lady like thing. I slipped on my dressing gown, grabbed the lady like putter by the side of my bed and charged-lady like-downstairs to do irreparable damage to whomsoever's skull I happened to tee off.
I had barely made it to the return when something shot past my head.
I released a terribly brave and lady like high-pitched scream and then another as a second later two more blurs tore up the stairs in hot pursuit.
I got my heart to restart and ran after the bigger of the cats and the one-eyed Marklar who were hurtling towards my bedroom.
It was at this point that I noticed Puddy hurtling towards me at one hundred cat fathoms an hour. (who knew she could move so fast at her age)
I side stepped her and she proceeded to carry on down the stairs. I proceeded on to the bedroom where I was stunned to find the two chap cats trying very bravely to take down one of those ferocious black and grey crows, you know, the big, big bastards that are always on the side of the motor way, waiting to pick off cattle or beggars or whatever the hell they like to do with their enormous beaks and huge bloody talons.
Once again I did the brave scream, as it flapped about the room, smacking off the mirror and getting tangled up in the curtains, curtains that Marklar decided to then climb, panicking Satan's wretched budgie to even more frantic 'ATRKSK' and more flapping.
What to do?
Well I did the only sane thing any sane woman would do. I fled and locked myself into the bathroom.
The arking and flapping went on for a while longer and then from the thudding of feet, I knew the whole possy had once more moved down stairs. Hearing Memnoch's evil mocking voice ringing in my ears I decided to stop being a scaredy cat and to go and sort out the intruder, perhaps to coax it to return to the pit of hell from whence it came.
I managed to make it the whole way down stairs this time just in time in fact to see the Bigger of the cats dragging the outraged vulture off my counter tops as it flapped and pecked like crazy. Marklar was behind the bigger of the cats, his tail as big as a racoon, his ears flat.
'Get out with that thing!' I whimpered bravely, and waved the golf club in a lady like but threatening manner.
TBOTC did just that. I stumbled into my kitchen-which looked like a small but powerful bomb had gone off in it what with the broken crockery and over turned plants- and watched as he hauled the still squawking winged beast down the garden to finish it off, the Marklar trotting behind in his wake.
'Holy fucking shite.' I said in lady like fashion and dropped the putter.
Puddy came out from where she was hiding under the the kitchen table. I picked her up and together we stood there, our hearts beating uncomfortably, my face drained of any human colour, her's stayed black and white.
Presently she began to purr and I decided to close the back door.
Bloody bloody birds and their bloody bloody flapping. I tell you, I'm not right.
Birds in the house... I'm AGAINST IT!



Blogger Dr. James McInerney said...

I was in a shopping mall yesterday, y'know one of them with the high roofs. Well, anyway, there was a crow flying around inside it.
Flying above the coffee dock thing and the counter with the jars of gobstoppers and the slanted shelf with the twixes and snickers bars.

I thought: What if it decides, as it flaps about nervously, that it is going to divest itself of some of the previous day's carrion, or whatever the dirty things eat?

I left.

11:57 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

I don't blame you. It's the bloody flapping that get me. And obviously it was in a total panic, me too.

12:13 p.m.  
Blogger gimme a minute said...

Aaaugh. Poor Fmc.

Good thing you have guard cats.

12:32 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Ye-ah, I have a bad feeling they might actually have brought him inside in the first place. It wouldn't be beyond the bigger of the cats to do something like that. he's a bit gung-ho that way.

12:48 p.m.  
Blogger Caro said...

At least you kept your lady like composure. That's what counts...

1:37 p.m.  
Blogger Medbh said...

Poor Fat Mammy Cat!
Methinks your windows were too clean so the bird smacked into it. I'd be terrified to that it'd peck my eyes out. Ack!
But good for you for having a weapon by the bed. Always a good idea.

1:41 p.m.  
Anonymous eva said...

OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My heart was racing double speed as I read through that!!! I could feel the panic and almost hear the flapping and sqeaking and what not!!!
You did right to lock yourself in the bathroom and wait it out. I would have most likely had a heart attack! I do NOT like flapping panicky birds either - I always, always think of Hitchcock's The Birds; one of the scariest movies of all times.

1:47 p.m.  
Anonymous Primal Sneeze said...

All very Hitchcocky indeed. Actually that's a nice sounding word - hitchcocky - I might just use that again. What would the lady-like version of it be though?

2:09 p.m.  
Anonymous eva said...


2:12 p.m.  
Blogger grimsaburger said...

I've had two bats in the house, and I'd take dozens more of those over a f-ing crow any day.

2:26 p.m.  
Blogger Andraste said...


Had a squirrel in my apartment once. Poor thing was more panicked than I was. At first I saw it out of the corner of my eye and thought it was one of my cats...until I remembered I don't have a gray cat...

I wonder where my head actually IS most of the time...

2:44 p.m.  
Blogger Medbh said...

My grandmother always said that if a bird shit on you it was good luck. I don't know if that extends to a bird breaking and entering, but why not?

2:50 p.m.  
Blogger Willie_W said...

We had a chocolate-box picture in mind one time when we saw our tortie cat gazing wistfully at the Christmas tree. Then we realised it was watching a sparrow it had brought in and which had escaped as far as hiding among the tinsel.

Of course, neither or us was engaged in nude golfing at the time. How many putts did it take to expel the bird and its feline entourage anyway?

3:15 p.m.  
Blogger Twenty Major said...

Things that flap are cunts.

3:22 p.m.  
Blogger Sam, Problem-Child-Bride said...

Holy bums, my sides! I haven't laughed like that at 7.30 in the morning for a long long time. Bloody fantastic.

At least the crow never quoth anything like "Nevermore". You might be in the bathroom yet if it had.

Bless you for starting my day off in such a jolly way, darlin'

3:37 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

I tell you I'm only geting over it now. It was ghastly. And you should see the mess they made. There are rips in the bloody suede curtains in the bedroom, RIPS! And they knocked over a metallic sugar container that was bloody full, so I had hoover the bloody countertops and every bloody nook and cranny. PLUS they broke a rather nice bowl I use for bashing eggs in.
Bloody great big beasts.
Willy, not even a good swing.

4:12 p.m.  
Blogger English Mum said...

Holy shit, scary stuff. I've just been watching a couple out the window and their beaks are flippin' massive. Twenty made me laugh, too. Succinct, as ever.

4:23 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

He's got a way about him all right EM, no doubt about it.

4:24 p.m.  
Blogger Conan Drumm said...

They do like to play with their dinners... I had a few magpie days in my time with His Eminence. And they do know that once they get a pteradactyl indoors it's only a matter of time before it is dinner. And oh what fun it is running up curtains! Watch the drink tonight, it may be an omen!

5:50 p.m.  
Blogger PI said...

That is stomach churningly frightening. I once had one in the bathroom, got a strange milkman to come and deal with it and then I had to deal with him.

3:54 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

My Great Stripy Bastard used to call pigeons down the chimney. I can find no other explanation for the sheer volume of feathered rats I've had to collect and toss out than front door. A few times I actualy have seen him crouching by the fireplace, practicing his crooning.

5:02 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Good lord, now THAT is a talent!

5:20 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Some friends of ours have a cat that will "chirp" birds into range of his teeth and claws. He also, somehow, manages to catch, kill, drag home, and eat jackrabbits as big as he is. It leaves their garage a mess, what with his leftovers. They clean one dead animal up, he brings home two more the next day.

As for a raven in the house... I'd suggest a two-foot-long stick or dowel. Long enough to reach out and thump the bird in the head to kill it without injury to yourself (and stop the carnage to your draperies), yet short enough to not get caught in the ceiling fan when you swing.

Once the bird is stunned or dead, just throw it outside for the cats to take care of.

9:52 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

I had a putter, but somehow- although the arms were willing- the flapping and shrieking were just too much for me that early in the day.
I like the sound of that murderous cat mind you. The bigger of the cats here used to drag home rats and leave their mangled corpses on the back door step as presents. Vile.

8:48 a.m.  
Blogger gayé said...

That's one scary morning!!!!!! You described it so well I was holding my breath as I read it, I realized after as I took a deep breath at the end. Phew. At first I thought you were going to end up clubbing some burgler into unconsiousness. Big kudos to your cats and your lady-like composure in the face of danger.

10:11 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Yep Gayé, lady like in the face of danger is the ONLY way to be.

10:35 a.m.  
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