The baby bird couldn't wait to leave the nest...so it jumped out and flapped its wings furiously. But, in spit of its strenuous efforts, gravity won out, and the baby bird hit the ground. Not hard enough to hurt, but it was obvious that the baby bird was not ready to fly, as it flopped around in the grass. Mama bird was up in the tree squawking "flap harder, flap harder." Then the cat appeared, and Mama bird's squawking was raised to a new level. "don't just sit there on a limb...Do something Daddy bird !" Mama bird demanded. "But what can I do?" Daddy bird answered... "I'm just a bird" But Mama bird had a plan, and as the cat was closing in on baby bird, Mama bird issued her marching orders... "Fly down there, and LET THE CAT EAT YOU" This little story came to me when our kids got old enough to move out...sometimes it takes a couple of tries, and they eventually make it (we hope) Offspring No. 1 joined the USAF four years ago. He's had several chances to get eaten by the cat, but he's still around, and old enough now to get away from the old cat. Offspring no. 2 moved out for the 2nd time today, and I'm feeling kinda like Daddy Bird...just kinda hanging around the nest, feeling useless. If the cat shows up, I'll knowe what to do...RAJ




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