A bird happening

I hope this wee not finds good health,
upon all who read - that's your good self.
The story I'm to tell really happened to me,
its full of adventure, romance and the ending - you'll see.
It all began on a day - like yesterday,
I was sitting at my desk - as you may.
Doing a wee maths problem you see,
when behind me I heard a chirp ('il de de).
'How bizare' I roared as I viewed my cave,
and there (on the mat) a waxeye was stayed.
I bent down and picked up the quivering thing,
and wondered perfusely how it came in!
The cat was no where in sight that I could se,
Did it fly in or walk - this puzzled me.
I patted the bird, and asked how it was,
Then took it outside - maybe it was lost.
It was quite happy in my hand you see,
So when I held it up to fly, it stayed with me.
I brought it inside and gave it a drink,
expecting a revivation I did think.
The bird still chose to stay on my hand,
then I wondered of feeding (as you do here on land).
So I made it a next with tupaware and morter,
then broke up a weetbix with sugar and water.
It ate hungerily then proceeded to sleep,
so I carried on with my work (it slept deep).
Occasionally its head would quiver under its mane,
or it would make a wee noice, like in a bit of pain.
Oh dear, sick bird I thought as I pondered,
I'll ring for more help in the morning I wondered.
So that's how it was for the next 2 hours,
The birdy wakes and chirps and me in my power,
would provide more food - it accepted with glee,
sometimes weetbix or water, it seemed to perk up you see.
I phoned a few people both near and far,
for to tell my excitement 'a bird!' tra la la.
I was speaking to Diane when it started to stir,
'I hope schmoo doesn't walk in with all her fur'.
Next it hopped up and out of the nest,
I thought things are turning out for the best!
I told Diane she ha to hold the line,
while I took the bird outside to start flyin.
To start with it remained on my hand and just sat,
then around the corner I saw my cat.
Poor Diane waited on the telephone you see,
The bird hopped around and looked straight at me.
It gathered up it feathers and fled to the sky,
from one side of my deck to the other it flied.
It landed upon the deck rail you see,
it didn't have the right energy to fly from me.
My cat schmoo came around the bend
the bird's life then came to an end.
I thought humph and bother, you brat of a cat
I feed you lot's and you still want that!
So I slammed the door and Diane consolled me
The law of the jungle she told me you see.
It was such a sweet little birdy in every which way,
I hope another comes along one day,
to stay and let me nurse it to health,
it was a nice feeling for my good self.
I hope this story hasn't disturbed you too much,
Schmoo and I are talking again - only just!
So all's well that ends well - or so I'm told
it would have been nice to see it fly and grow old.
So the moral of this story that I've told you today,
is don't keepa cat when sick birds come to stay.