Living on a busy road like we do (speed limit is 35mph, but most people seem
to be doing 50mph, unless stuck behind our mailman :D), all our kitties are
indoors.  However, we have made some concessions:  we spent over $1000
dollars last year refinishing the floor to our back porch, and purchasing a
rather expensive, multi-tiered cat-tree so the kitties could sit back there
(it's enclosed - next step is to replace the cheap, single-pane aluminum
storm windows that previous owners installed with nice, vinyl double-paned
casement/picture window assortments) and watch the birdies at the feeders
(we have 2 thistle feeders for the finches, a hummingbird feed and 3
'normal' feeders for the birds back there).  Today, while I was back there,
listing to Dr. Laura Schlesinger on the radio and working on a cross-stitch
project, there was a commotion at one of the windows.

A fledgling robin (American version) had somehow found it's way to the
itty-bitty window ledge that is only about 12 or so inches from the ground.
Moe was right there, on the inside of the window sill, and to say she was
*very* interested in the young visitor would be an understatement.  At first
I thought it was an adult robin, attacking it's reflection, but then I
noticed Moe, reaching a paw toward it (bird was safe from kitties - it was
*outside* the glass, kitties *inside*), but when Moe reached, Young Robin
would open it's mouth, as if it were going to be fed!  This happened 5 or 6
times, and I decided enough is enough - Young Robin isn't getting fed - at
least not *by* any kitties (and not *to* any of *my* kitties, either), so I
stepped outside, intending to scoop up Young Robin and place it in a
low-hanging tree branch.  Young Robin had other ideas.  Young Robin had no
intention of letting me scoop him/her up.  Young Robin skedaddles a few
yards away.  Young Robin was attempting to fly!  I decided to at least
encourage it to go further away from the house, in a part of the yard that
is fairly open and Mama & Papa Robin would have a better chance of finding
it.  No sooner had I taken a few more steps in it's direction, Young Robin
*flies*, albeit only a foot or two off the ground, a good 20-30 yards away,
right to the area I was hoping to 'herd' it to.

I hear a commotion in one of the trees in the fencerow.  Lo & behold, Mama &
Papa Robin are there, ready to rescue Young Robin from the nasty hoomin.

I watched, and they actually came down to feed Young Robin, but he made no
attempts to follow them into the trees, just sat there.  Hmmmph.  Young
Robin is a *spoiled brat*, and too fat & overfed to fly!

And Moe was very upset that she didn't get a Fresh Robin Filet as her
dinner.