The other day I groggily brewed my morning shot(s) of espresso, and I noticed Buddy the cat hunkered down on the floor of the kitchen in his stalking pose. Not only was it still fairly dark (I'd started up the espresso maker without turning on the kitchen lights), I didn't have my glasses on, so I could barely make out a small dark something on the floor in front of him.
"Not again!" I complained to the cat.
Sure enough, it was a hummingbird he'd caught, and brought into the house to "enjoy." Sigh.
Buddy must like me an awful lot to be sharing so many of his treasures with me lately (to include partially-consumed woodrat brains, replete with attached bloody woodrat carcasses).
I wasn't sure how badly injured (if at all) the hummingbird was, so I gently picked it up and deposited it back outdoors, hoping against hope it would be OK.
About 90 minutes later, after I'd gotten home from a 7 a.m. meeting I usually frequent weekday mornings, when I walked into my bedroom, I heard a very loud buzzing noise.
You guessed it! Another hummingbird.
Undaunted by his early setback at my hands, Buddy went and got himself another prize, but this one had gotten away from him on its own. It was, however, trapped now in my room.
The bird seemed to be in great shape, flying around my room near the ceiling, and then coming to rest back on the top of my Black Forest cuckoo clock, again and again. I opened the door to the outside, and tried to coax the bird back into what I hoped would be cat-free liberation, but the bird seemed incapable of finding its way out.
It took about five minutes, but I finally encouraged the tiny creature to leave. No hands, this time.
I'm too often like that hummingbird, I suppose. I get myself into situations from which there's an easy way out, but then am blind to that option, or incapable of choosing it on my own.
Fortunately for me, there are lots of spiritual people in my A.O. (area of operations) who can bring some light into my darkness, point me in the right direction, and then give me a swift kick in the tush to get me going, if I can't seem to manage it on my own.
It still creeps me out that Buddy has taken to bringing so many of his trophies into the house, and indeed, into my bedroom.
Blessings and peace to one and all,
Fr. Tim, SJ