This morning we woke to bird song from the fireplace in the living room. This was shortly before full daylight. The song was so varied and beautiful that it had to be a Mockingbird. It was just too pitiful, his singing desperately in the dark.
Somehow, by himself, that brave bird climbed the chain curtain of the fire guard and fluttered over the top of the glass fire doors. He was loose in the living room and terrified of the interested dogs. He fluttered like a moth against the cathedral ceiling until finally he came to rest, clinging to the brick of the fireplace.
We put the dogs (downer!) in the garage, opened the exterior doors and flapped towels to direct him toward the opening. He got the idea almost at once and swooped through the storm doorway and onto the front screened porch. A little test flight or two against the screens and he found the opening to the outside, then up, up, up.
That bird was a genius. He deserves to reproduce.