Cat vs. Bird

Yesterday, I found our young cat tormenting a bird it had caught (or, more charitably, maybe found). The bird, though terrorized into speechlessness, still lived, and I was able to pick it up during an interlude in which the cat stood back admiring her work. I placed the bird out of harm's way, in a pot of petunias hanging from a metal post in the ground.

I could not immediately identify what sort of bird it was. It was grayish, about the size of a tufted titmouse, and with a bit of crest atop its head. Yet, unlike the titmouse, it had a black mask with a white eyebrow, and light brown streaking on its breast.

Enter the wizard of Bridge Street, Sanderson, who identified it as an immature cedar waxwing, a bird I am unfamiliar with and would not have thought of.

I recently acquired a new field guide, Birds of Connecticut by Stan Tekiela, that shows the cedar waxwing as a distinctly brown bird, while my older Roger Tory Peterson guide shows it as a grayish brown. My bird was more of a gray with brown parts. Funny how different books can be, and thus can lead one astray. Also, the Peterson book shows a mostly white mask with a thin black strip through the eye, while the Tekiela book shows a mostly black mask with a narrow white eyebrow. My bird looked as if it were wearing white-rimmed sunglasses. I wonder if these differences reflect perception, or actual bird-to-bird variations?

Field guides aside, I must report that this tale had a sad ending. Later, I was sitting inside working on the computer when our older gray cat came in with a bird in her mouth. It was the same bird! And it was much the worse for wear, with feathers missing from the top of its head and most of the tail feathers gone.

I gently retreived it from under a chair where the cat left it, and carried it outside, placing it once again amongst the petunias. I could see the telltale yellow patch on the tip of the remaining tailfeathers. The bird's right eye appeared damaged, as it sat on a petunia branch, shaking and shifting its weight uncomfortably, probably in shock. An hour or so later when I checked on it, it had keeled over dead. I felt so helpless and anguished at the death of this bird, it surprised me. Though I wish harm on no living thing, this young waxwing and its early demise touched me deeply.