Fowl Play

After Brent came home from picking up dinner, he tells me to look outside our front door. I open the front door to see the following about three feet from me: So for the past hour, we've been trying to figure out a way to get the bird, which may be hurt, some help and most importantly, the hell away from us, self-proclaimed bird haters. It has a band on its leg, so somebody must be keeping track of it. It made its way to the open-air part of our complex, but doesn't seem to be able to fly. It's now back to outside our door. Brent tried to call Santa Monica Animal Control, which was closed, so he called the non-emergency police number to see if they had any recommendations. Strangely, they're going to send an officer out, even though Brent made it perfectly clear it's not an emergency. Apparently it's a slow crime night in our town, which is fine by us. Maybe they'll cuff the bird and take him to the pen. "So, what are you in for?" "I held some folks hostage." UPDATE: Two police officers just came by, with official animal shelter gear in tow. They pulled out a special bag/sheet and scooped up the bird to take him to the shelter. "Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less." - Marie Curie