Kiki is staring hard at about eight baby birds outside the window. Two birdies came within twelve inches of her nose, hopping on the windowsill. Luckily for them, there's a window between them and the cat they could not see.
Kiki's first (and only) gift to me was a bird, laid out lovingly by the steps into the kitchen from the garage so it would be seen as soon as I opened the door. She had watched me wrap Christmas gifts that day and must have understood what I was doing. Later, she looked and sniffed all over that area of the garage, trying to figure out what happened to her gift. That was Christmas of 2001, and she never gave me another gift, ever, since I failed to appreciate how carefully and perfectly she had folded the bird's wings just so -- and left it for me.
When I recently gave her a chirping bird on a string, touted by the manufacturer as a toy that would appeal to the hunter in my cat, Kiki looked at it with disdain and ran her eyes up the string as if to say, "I'm a REAL hunter, and I've never seen a bird attached to a string before!"
Above is a view of the birds "by Kiki." Here's a view of "The Birds" by Alfred Hitchcock.