B-B-B-Bird Bird Bird, Bird is the Word

Before we go any further, you should probably watch this.

Now that I have control of your mind, I'll tell you a little story.

Long ago (last Monday), in a land far away (my house), I got home from work and saw some sort of flash or shadow go past.  It only registered subconsciously.

And then I saw it: we had acquired a bird.  In the house.  And it was flying around, desperately trying to get out.

And I desperately wanted it out.

I'd like to tell you what kind of bird it was but the best I can come up with is small and gray. Oddly enough, the pets took little notice until the cat finally caught sight of the little bugger.  His inability to fly, in the face of this ornithological event, vexed him mightily.  It also vexed me, as I value his ability as a hunter and this would mean the end of my problem.

But alas, the ground-dwelling feline remained firmly planted on the carpet, while the errant bird stubbornly continued to occupy the ceiling and parts north.

Since I had Important Things<tm> to do, I allotted five minutes to try eradicating the Bird Problem myself.  I thought it was sheer brilliance on my part (I am frequently told that I am my best audience) to turn off all the house lights and open the front door, figuring that the small gray thing would head for parts outside.

Naturally I was mistaken.

The dog still failed to notice his new houseguest, instead opting to search for any spare cat food that might be left about.  As it turns out, this is one of his main activities.

Having exhausted my five minutes, I went about my other business.  The bird flew upstairs and wasn't heard from again.

My wife, fresh from napping, was made aware of the situation.  Just as I was saying the bird had left, it swooped across the ceiling again.  The wife was most impressed, springing into action and locking the bird in the rear area of the house, close to the door.  Apparently it hadn't found the second floor as hospitable as we do.

The following morning we came down and noted that the bird had failed to go out the back door, instead somehow managing to go through the closed dividing door and hanging around the living room some more.

My wife lept to attention, and with the help of a broom, somehow managed to convince our new pet to exit via the front door.  Everyone was impressed (except the cat).

We were really curious as to how the little monster managed to get through a closed dividing door, so we opened it.

What did we find?

The bird.  In the rear of the house.

Apparently we had somehow acquired two birds.

Again springing to action, the wife, again with the broom, managed to eradicate the house of the Bird Problem.  Hopefully once and for all.

How the birds got into the house, we do not know.  While they do like to fly into our clean windows, like that stupid window cleaner commercial, they do not generally like to spend quality time with us.

When I told this tale at work, I mentioned that normal people get one bird in their house.  I was immediately corrected by a coworker: normal people get no birds in their house.