I have a somewhat embarrassing habit: I enjoy I Can Has Cheezburger.
I have a friend who often complains about her cat's offerings of dead small animals. I have tried to explain to her that Fluffy loves her and does not want her to go hungry. She remains unimpressed.
I can see both their points of view.
I recently forwarded her this picture from ICHC.
A few days later, I was sitting at the computer when one of our cats came streaking in from the back porch (it's on the second floor -- no access to anyplace else) with a triumphant hunting cry, dashed into the bedroom with me in hot pursuit, and dropped a chickadee on the bed.
I chased the cats out. The chickadee was still alive, looking stunned. We left it to rest quietly while we called the local songbird rescue. (Yes, we have a local songbird rescue. Is that too cool or what? It's mostly staffed by volunteers and student interns.) They said all cat-caught birds should be checked out, and that they'd be able to take it.
Now all we had to do was get it into a box for transport.
When I went to do this, the chickadee took exception and fluttered down to hide under the laundry pile. Then under the bed.
Beloved Wife came to help me. At this point, the chickadee started flying around the bedroom. Eeek. None of us (except the bird) seemed sure if we should laugh, curse, or squawk. The bird came to rest in an upward-facing lamp; we got it into the box without ever touching it; and off we went to the Bird Center.
The chickadee was in good shape, only two puncture wounds, and was expected to make a full recovery.
I decided I needed to email my friend and tell her I was amply repaid for having sent her that lolcat picture.
A few days after, we received another call from the Bird Center: the chickadee was ready to be released; could we come get it and release it in its own neighborhood?
Beloved Wife fetched it, bringing home a shoebox which contained one hopping mad chickadee. We took the shoebox into the back yard, opened it up, and off the chickadee went!
It landed in a nearby juniper, where it called loudly in chickadee, several times: "Big, slow, really irritating predators nearby!!"
I am amply repaid a second time.