It was chilly and windy, so I was in the garage, playing on my phone. I sort of noticed Onje walking by, but didn’t pay much attention. When he went back the other way, heading outdoors, I realized he had a bird in his mouth. I figured it was probably dead already, but made him drop it. The bird wasn’t dead, and just sat there on the floor. I got a pair of garden gloves, and was going to euthanize it because birds with cat bites usually die from infection anyway. The poor little thing was a female goldfinch, and she was all covered with spider webs and dust. I’d guess she got that way from trying to escape Onje in the garage. I picked her up, and checked her over. Her feathers were a bit ruffled, but I didn’t see any blood, and her wings didn’t appear to be damaged, so I just decided to hold her for a little while and see what she did. I left the garage, just in case she could still fly, and sat outside with her. Lacking a beak, I used a piece of straw (finally–the Patio Straw is useful for something!) to “preen” the webs and dust off her feathers. I figured my giant hand hovering over her would scare her even more. At first, she kept her eyes closed, and repeatedly opened her beak, which I have seen before when the stupid starling got trapped in between the windows, so I knew that was just fear, not injury. As I cleaned her feathers, I resisted the urge to talk, and instead, I peeped to her the way M did when our pheasants were little guys. She’d occasionally open her eyes and look over at me, so I thought maybe she was less afraid, and I scritched the back of her little birb-head as I’d seen the owners of Princess BB the Japanese White-Eye do, and I got the same reaction; she tilted her head back, and closed her eyes. I guess all birbs like scritchies, even if they’re frightened wild birbs. After several minutes, she was moving around a little, and I didn’t want her to think she was trapped under the patio roof, so I slowly walked her over toward the part of the yard where the rest of the goldfinches hang out. Once she caught sight of the great outdoors, I felt her little feet move, and she took off, flying strong. This time, the cat lost, and the birb won.