Lucy Pussy and Colin the Crow

Due to popular demand, here is the latest installment of Lucy Pussy’s life in the Rectory…

Lucy Pussy has adapted reasonably well to becoming a ‘rectory cat’ as opposed to a ‘roaming around seeking whom she may devour cat’.  Because of the busy main road she has been imprisoned in the rectory but has managed to find plenty exercise racing down the main staircase, doing a lap along the bottom corridor and then racing up the back stairs. It keeps her fit and keeps me on my toes when bringing a cup of coffee downstairs to my study. We have had a few accidents. The back windows in the rectory look out onto trees and Bell’s Meadow so there is lots of wildlife for her to observe and ‘chatter’ to, including bats which were new to her. She is not too keen on them because they fly a bit too fast for her and she ducks every time they go past. Then she feels foolish and has to casually clean herself as if she didn’t just do that.

Last week, as I sat and ate my lunch at the dining table and read the Church Times, she casually sauntered past me with something black in her mouth. Something black? What on earth could it be? As all the windows were closed (it being summer in Scotland and freezing cold and wet) and as she doesn’t get outside, what could it be? She has been good at keeping the mouse population in check but this was something much bigger and blacker. A rat perhaps?

So I tentatively followed her out and downstairs where she kindly deposited large black object at my study door. So kind. As I drew nearer I saw that it was a crow. Yes, a crow! A large black pointy beaked crow. Lying, to all intents and purposes ‘dead’, at my study door. Where the heck did she find a crow? Now I know my housework is perhaps not quite up to the standard of Kim and Aggie, but I felt sure that I would have noticed a crow lurking around under the bed.

As she lay panting beside said crow, looking I might say very pleased with herself, it made a slight move whereupon she pounced upon it and brought it upstairs towards me. The crow cawed helplessly and then was silent. (I may add as the crow cawed, I screamed. Like a girl.)  And under my bed she went where upon there was some scuffling, some cawing and some mewing. Feathers floated out. I ran and phoned my sister. In Edinburgh. “A crow?” she said. “Where the heck did she get a crow?” Indeed. My point exactly. “Shut all the doors,” she advised, which was exactly why I phoned my sister as she is much more sensible in such crises. I shut the doors, except for the bedroom and in due time Lucy Pussy brought the crow out into the corridor leading to my bedroom.

Now, by this point I am having flashbacks of the ‘pigeon episode’. Readers may remember the first trophy Lucy Pussy brought home for mummy just minutes before the congregation were due to arrive for the garden party (to be held indoors because it was pouring rain) and spread feathers, blood and pigeon poo all over my nice white tablecloth.  (Not to mention the dust from the venetian blinds which had not been cleaned in some time – I told you I wasn’t exactly up to speed on the old housework.) But as far as I could see from my vantage point on the stairs, the crow looked as dead and can be lying on its back with feet in the air, and LP lay like a proud puss beside it. Ah but it was not indeed dead but playing possum, for after several minutes of pretending it ruffled a feather as if to move whereupon LP pounced once more and carried it off down the back stairs.

At this point I locked myself in my study and phoned Tom the ex-Treasurer for he has a cat and goes hillwalking. My reckoning being that he was probably used to such treasures being brought home and loves the outdoors and would know how to catch a crow. Bless him, for he did indeed arrive within minutes while I stayed locked in the study listening to the cawing and mewing cacophany outside. But then we couldn’t find either of them until a wee mew alerted me to LP sitting on granny’s old bureau in the window looking forlornly over the back of it. Colin the Crow has obviously made a bid for freedom and flown at the window whereupon he fell down the back of the bureau and got stuck. LP couldn’t reach him either but she wasn’t letting him out of her sight.

Tom, my superhero, casually rescued Colin and took him outside, much to Lucy Pussy’s disgust. And guess what? This story does have a happy ending for Colin the Crow flew off with no injuries apart from a wounded pride I would guess.

Of course, you are now wondering how Colin entered the rectory in the first place? Well I certainly was. Our only guess is that he fell down the chimney in the flat which is boarded up but has a small hole cut for ventilation and managed to sqeeze through it. For that is where Lucy Pussy spends most of her days now. Sitting and watching and waiting…

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10 thoughts on “Lucy Pussy and Colin the Crow

  1. Wonderful! I love the part about how she casually grooms herself when feeling foolish. That’s just how Miss Kitty stalls for time when I’m holding the door open and it’s raining or hot or cold and she can’t decide whether to go out or stay in.

  2. This did make me laugh partly because I had similar experiences with our cats (now long gone). Their best work involved getting a rook (dead but not maimed) into the utility room via a very small cat flap… I was torn between horror and admiration at their obvious dexterity (or whatever the paw equivalent is) and the sight of that huge rook lying on its back – beak and feet in the air- is forever etched in my memory. We also had a pigeon incident – fortunately confined to the back yard – but the extent of the massacre was such that I couldn’t even begin to deal with it and so just covered the blooded remains with a bucket until the husband with the stronger stomach returned home. (he also had to dispose of the rook – I kept the door to the utility room firmly closed with the cats locked outside until he removed the remains! Cats you gotta love them 🙂

    • Thankfully I’ve never had to cope with cat-flaps but she did manage to bring a few things in an open window. After my lovely Son #1 had disposed of the pigeon we discovered she had obviously been playing with it in th back garden which looked like someone had burst a feather duvet out there. No grass – just feathers as far as the eye could see! And she’s not a big cat – but big ideas obviously.

  3. Cats rarely leave birds unscarred even though they are able to fly away at times. Cats claws are extremely sharp and ususally leave scratches in the delicate skin of birds and bacteria on their claws usually start an infection in birds or in any animal they scratch. Let’s hope the crow didn’t die a slow death. And then on top of this the poor crow flies into a window. I don’t see how anyone can find this an amusing story. I felt absolute pity for the bird. I’m sure people wouldn’t find the story funny if a large eagle was dragging about someone’s poor cat.
    Crow’s offspring stay with their parents for over a year and sometimes help to raise the next season’s babies. And younger crows have been seen finding food and feeding older crows. They are a very intelligent species.

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