I picked up George, and she was all like "No! Put me down! I wanna play with the bird!" (Yeah, "she". She's a girl cat but we named her George.)
And then while I was getting the dustpan to scoop up the wounded bird and put it outside, it got up and flew into the corner! Fortunately the corner was near the door, so I opened it and nudged the bird over with the dustpan until it hopped outside. Then I closed the door. George wanted to go out, but no no no. You'll just bring it back in, ya dang cat!
Oh well. At least she also catches roaches. Now that's putting those hunting skills to something useful! (Ugh, roaches. One of the numerous drawbacks to living in Houston.)