[Harv72b]

So like any normal, red-blooded American, I went to bed at around 5 PM yesterday and woke up at 1 AM. Not too unusual for me, as my body seems to be convinced that we live on a planet with a 26 hour day and thus my sleep pattern is constantly changing. And this isn't a problem because, once I fall asleep, I fall asleep--it basically takes a thermonuclear detonation to wake me up.

I offer as evidence the events which (apparently) transpired last night. I have a cat, and because she doesn't get along too well with the roommate's cat & I can't sleep with my bedroom door open, she spends the night (or whatever period of the day I'm sleeping) in the bedroom with me. I also happen to smoke a lot, especially when I'm pokering, so when it's not winter my bedroom window is always open a crack to let some fresh air circulate through. I only leave perhaps 2 inches of clearance between the window & sill, because at one point last summer my cat tore up the screen that covers that window & it would take some fire equipment to replace it.

So I wake up this morning, stagger out of bed, and walk around the foot of my bed to turn on the light. My foot brushes up against something but I don't pay that much mind because, hey, there's a cat in my bedroom and she loves to play things all over the floor. Turn on the light, turn back around & head over to the computer desk for a cigarette and to get the pc running while I take care of the morning ritual. Out of curiousity, I look down at the floor to see what I kicked, and sweet mother of pearl, there's a dead bird on my bedroom floor.

It wasn't mine, of this much I'm sure. I didn't bring any dead birds home last night, and if I had then I can assure you that I wouldn't have just left one lying on the floor. I'm also fairly sure that it didn't just walk through the door in order to keel over dead on my lovely hardwood; evidence of this could plainly be seen by the feathers which littered the rest of the room. No, this bird clearly met with foul play, and the only likely culprit was of course my cat, who was now sleeping peacefully in her house.

I'm not too surprised by the fact that my cat could kill a bird--she loves killing things, be they toys or insects or shadowy figures which only she can see, and she's met with great success in this pursuit over the years. While a bit surprised that it somehow found its way into my bedroom, I'm not really shocked; as I said, I leave the window open a crack, the screen is demolished, and the bird was small enough that it could have fit through the gap above the sill (probably with help from my cat). What really surprised me, a tad at least, was the fact that I slept through the entire event. And judging from the blast pattern of feathers all over the room, it was quite a battle. I can only assume that my cat employed some sort of ninja-esque moves complete with throwing stars and flying spin kicks to finish the poor thing off.

So I did what any normal person would do: grabbed an old t-shirt, picked up the dead bird, and deposited it in the trash can. I congratulated my cat on her successful defense of our territory, scratched my butt a couple times, sat down and got to pokering. Had a pretty decent session overall, too, which I guess proves the old saying that a dead bird on your bedroom floor is good luck.

I just pray that an elephant never gets in here.