Six months ago or so, our cockatail, Mel, flew off my shoulder and out the door. We've really missed her landing on our hair, nibbling our earrings or covering our favorite chairs with accidents. Before Christmas, a gray cockatail flew into our back yard, lured by the large variety of birdy treats on tap. It stays there, night and day, preening its feathers and ruling the doves that nest in our big tree.
Ladybug is obsessed with the recovery of "Mel". She cried over the dishes in frustration over her inability to catch her with a net. Last night was spent on the internet researching bird traps. By morning, two bird traps were set. One was an elaborate double cardboard box affair with a trap door the bird would fall through. The other was a small cage, propped open with a stick and a rigging to knock it shut should a bird come in and eat the food.
I returned home from a presidency meeting today to a bright eyed little girl. "I caught a bird!" "No kidding." I replied in complete amazement. Sadly, it was not "Mel", but a hungry little sparrow which we fed then released with a treat for her short incarceration.