The Scene of the Crime

Today I got home on my lunch hour, having left the back door open enough for the cat to go in and out during the day, and WHOOF! Right before my very eyes was a bird flying around trying to find its way outside. (We do not have a pet bird, just so you know.) At first I thought it had somehow flown in through the 6" opening, but then noticed gobs of feathers everywhere. I thought (hoped) maybe it had battered itself in its attempt to escape the inadverant entry and lost a little plumage.

But then I noticed something else...dark drops of blood across the floor, and then across the other floor...and then down the hallway where I had seen it struggling in flight. It was like something from a crime scene, and would have been, had it not been feline natural instinct. It was awful. The cat was just taking a nap. I didn't know what to do and spent the few minutes trying to search for the bird and encourage it go to outside, but couldn't find it. I had to go back to work and left the front door open, too, just in case. But, alas, I fear it is in here somewhere...somewhere where we don't know enough to look. Kyle cleaned things up because I had to run back to work, and he didn't find it either.