Last night I was curled up in my bed, without my glasses (severely near
sighted) reading  "1632" by Eric Flint.  Suddenly, I heard eep, eep, eep,
eep coming from the enclosure area.  I looked at the entrance and saw Sonya
standing there with something in her mouth.  It was gray, had a triangular
protrusion flapping about and was making that dreadful eep, eep, eep noise.
OH MY GOD, Sonya had caught a BAT.

Ok, it wasn't a bat, but a bird.  But I didn't have my glasses on.  The bird
eeped loudly, I shrieked for someone to come save me, Sonya looked confused,
and the room rapidly filled with cats.  Three kids pushed their way into the
room.  I screamed for someone to get a paper bag to catch the bat in.
Charles informed me that it was a bird not a bat.  I told him I didn't give
a sh*t, just get a bag.  Mandy ran to the kitchen, got a plastic bag and
came back.  She and Charles talked to Sonya while Charles held her down and
Mandy rescued the bird.  It was sent back to nature and Sonya searched every
inch of my bedroom trying to find her prey.  I told her that she is a good
provider and that we'll never starve with her around.  Qui Gun was going
nuts.  You could tell he was jumping up and down saying, "Wow, Mom.  That
was cool.  Can you teach me how to do that?  Could you Mom?  Huh?  Huh?"

Ten minutes later, my heart rate was finally slowing back to a normal rate,
Rob had stopped laughing, and Sonya was back to looking for the bird under
my bed.  The only way we can think of for her to be able to get that bird
would have been for it to have flown to the top of the enclosure, thought
the shelves inside were perfect for perching, and trying the shelves out for
size.  Once it got into the enclosure, it probably wouldn't have been able
to get out.  Sonya had done what she could to add to the family's food
supply.  It wasn't her fault that I wasn't appreciative.

Pam S.