Yesterday, I screamed my head off at the neighborhood cat. Again. I swear that he knows I hate him being in my yard, so he makes sure to be just out of my reach, but where I can see him all of the time. He kills all of the baby birds and even the bunnies sometimes. It's like happy Bambi time back there until he shows up, and then it's like one of those nature shows where I spend half the show with my eyes closed, but I see something anyway so I spend the rest of the show crying.

I mean, seriously, I don't know whose he is, but why have a cat if he's always going to be in my yard?

At any rate, after yesterday, this has got to stop. He was on my guest room window, trying to get in to my bird who was screaming bloody murder and who I thought was going to have a heart attack.

I Googled it. Birds can have heart attacks.

So I go in to see what the ruckus is all about, and the cat is trying so hard to get in that he doesn't see me, so I slide the top of the window down and scream at the the little turd to get off of my window.

I may have used stronger language than that. My neighbors may hate me now, because I was pretty mad. There were some f-words in there.

Well, I don't really care. My little bird, who is 14 and likes to be held less and less as he gets older, was shaking like crazy and was at the front of the cage waiting for me to pick him up and I held him under my chin against me for like five minutes.

If you knew my bird, you would realize how bizarre that is. He has never, in his whole life, been a cuddler. He only wants to be picked up to play an exciting game of, "Let's bite your fingernails!"

Seriously. He is fascinated by fingernails. He will spend ages grooming mine. It's kind of adorable.

Anyway, no cuddling for Bruce. Never. So, yeah, he was terrified. And he was making his little baby lucky noises at me, which is what he does when he is feeling kissy with his buddy. 

He's in love with his buddy, which is this yellow stuffed piece of fuzzy cloth that he sleeps with and clucks to while he's rubbing his head on it. It is also pretty cute.

So, yeah, all kinds of weird behavior, but no heart attack. Which is good for the cat, because I would've hunted him down and taken his butt to the pound if he would've hurt my bird. (That's the worst I could do--I couldn't actually hurt him because I just love me some animals).

On the plus side, this morning, Bruce the cockatiel is cooing and clucking at his buddy and coming over to make the occasional kissy noise at me. So he must have already forgotten.

Of course, his brain is pretty much the size of a pea, so I can see how that could happen.