I dial the phone, because Husband has left.
"Hon, no hurry, but we have a bird in the chimney again."
He comes home, and listens. Of course, there is no noise. He gives me the "humor the crazy woman" look, and goes outside.
Scritch. Scritccrriitch. Scritch.
Some small bits fall from the pipe into the box. I figure, well, I know it's there. It will work its way up, or down. Either way, I will just not worry about it.
Husband says he can't hear it. He takes a catnap in the living room. I hear it just fine. He doesn't. BUT, asks I, who wears hearing aid in this house?
Not I, said the little blogging Cat...
So, I just go into the back room, do some minor stuff of no consequence, then hear Husband has awoken and gone outside. Great! In time for Dr. Oz. I sit down.
Scritch. SCRATCH! SSSSCCCRRRRUUU- POOOF!!! Suddenly, there is little nuclear cloud of ash in the firebox, a disgruntled squawk, and this...
I told Husband, yep, there's a bird. I get to take a picture before we let it out!
Husband closed all the blinds and doors in the house, and turned off the T.V. I opened the door to the outside, and we opened the little firebox door.
ZOOOOM! Gone! I really couldn't blame him. I probably wouldn't have liked to be stuck in a box with bright lights flashing at me, either. (Guess he knows what the guys at the county jail feel like...) I dug out the handy-dandy bird identifier, and it is a European Starling. This isn't one of the areas more popular birds, but I figure, it eats bugs. If it eats bugs, I am happy.
I had one sort of bittersweet thought. My Grandma would have freaked out seriously at this. Being superstitious to the utmost, she would have had a real problem with a bird in the house. I would loved for her to be there, just so I could see her have said panic. Maybe she's sitting on a cloud somewhere, giving the starling what for, for going into our house. That wouldn't surprise me, at any rate.
This isn't the first bird we had in the chimney, but I am sort of surprised, we have a chimney cover, metal netting that was supposed to stop birds. It has, until now. Guess we had a skinny, smart, or just unlucky bird. Or all three.
Oh, and Husband said this should be the case of the Stuck UP Starling, 'cuz he was Stuck UP the chimney.