A new bird story to rival the first...

Ladies and the one gentleman who reads my blog, prepare thyselves for a story so funny, I was laughing the whole time it was happening at just how great it would be to tell it. And it is.

So, let's start out with a few prerequisites: first of all, birds find their way into my home every February, a trend which started two years ago. I had come home from a weekend in the woods to find this bird, this needle-nosed pitch blue starling, sitting on my couch. He was the first of eight that year, followed by five last year, and now this fella from yesterday. They have been on ceiling fans, under the sink, in my bedroom, dead in the toilet, upstairs on a light, hiding on top of the fridge, in a cat's mouth, in a dog's mouth, or sitting on chairs like that is perfectly normal and acceptable bird habitat. Also, if you are unfamiliar, you need to know some of the anatomy of my house in order to understand the story. The front door is in a little entryway (unheated), which meets up with the dining room, which is kind of open to the kitchen. Hidden in the back corner of the kitchen is the bathroom. The whole thing is in a terrible state of disrepair, and for some reason, most of my door handles don't work properly. For example, if you close the bathroom door firmly from the inside, you can't get out without assistance from the other side or a good hearty kick. Also, in the bathroom, there is a small bit of space behind the shower that I plan on turning into a linen closet one of these days, but for now it's a big hole that runs under the tub.

Alright, so yesterday, I got back from work and picking up my bucket of a truck, and went into the bathroom for the usual business, when I hear this sort of shuffling scratch under the tub. Both dogs, who insist on accompanying me into the bathroom every time they can, put their faces into the opening behind the tub and started to whine and scratch and freak out. "Well," I thought, " I saw all four cats in the house when I came in, so this must be a bird or something." Like I said, I EXPECT birds in the house in February, plus the sound it made was bird-like. As I was finishing up and getting ready to calm the dogs and capture the bird, he flew out like a Phoenix and was loose in the house, with four cats and two dogs in competition for his blood. I had to leave my pants behind in the attempt to save him.
I ran all over the house after the little guy, up on windowsills and back down, up the stairs and back down, into the windows and onto the floor, dogs ahead, dogs behind, cats underfoot and jumping from ledges, and eventually he flew back into the bathroom and under the tub. I had to take a shower anyway, and I was already sans pants, so I got into my birthday suit, closed the door as much as I dared to and took my shower. Sometime during, the bird came out and sat on the curtain rod and shortly thereafter, the dogs got the door open and came right in.
Hm. Fun.
So, I got done in the shower right quick, and as I pulled back the curtain, the bird took to flight in a 10'x 6' room with two crazed dogs. I was screaming at them all, when the bird flew into the mirror on the door and hit the floor, causing the cats jump at the door from the other side, SHUTTING IT FIRMLY. Me, wet and naked, two crazed dogs, bird flying around, locked in the 10' x 6' bathroom. Incidentally, this is when I started to laugh. Loudly. I put on the only clothes I had in there with me, which were slippers, and had to use my towel to catch the bird, right? Well, the bird flew in behind the sink, and I tossed the towel on him with a dog on my nude back. I scooped up the bird and towel, cradling it in my arms. I couldn't put him down anywhere because of the dogs, and I couldn't put him in the bathtub because the drain is slower than old people, so I had to hang on to the whole bundle whilst kicking the door open.
The first four kicks were fruitless. The fifth shattered the mirror on the back of the door. There we are, two crazed dogs, freaked out bird in a towel, me, wet and with nothing on but slippers, and five square feet of glass shattered onto the floor and still locked in the goddamn bathroom. I actually panicked for a second, checked my feet for shards of mirror, backed the dogs up against the bathtub, re-adjusted the bird's position in my football hold, and kicked the living shit out of the fucking door. Mercifully, it flew open, and in came the cats.
There was no time for anything, since all six of those carnivores knew I had the bird on my nude, wet person, so I ran to the front door, through the kitchen and dining room and unheated entryway, got the front door open, and let the bird go out of the towel. Then, like a raving nude, wet idiot I waited to see where it went. And so did the neighbors across the street.
What else could I do? I waved at them.

Swear to god.

Only me.