Took a hit in the tail—still flying

I got a letter from a friend who mentioned that she liked the wren story of a few days ago. I wrote back saying that the silly bird still keeps managing to get into the house. Every day at about dawn, he comes in, flitting back and forth, chirping loudly. Karla calls him our natural alarm clock.

I am surprised that he keeps coming back because one day I saw him flying around, looking a whole lot shorter. At first I thought it was a different bird. Then I discovered what had happened to him—there was a pile of tail feathers on the carpet in the bedroom. He had met Raven, the cat! He seems none the worse for wear; I guess wrens don’t really need tail feathers!