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Yesterday I (accidentally) caught a newly-fledged blackbird. Its proud father had taken the greedy thing out for lunch at the nearest restaurant, aka the chicken run. Daddy fled when I turned up to lock Miss Daisy in--leaving the little one in the run with the pecky hen between it the exit. Much flapping ensued until Junior left. Miss Daisy was so surprised by the explosion of baby feathers that she didn't actually run away: I picked her up from the entrance of the run and popped her back inside galliform gaol and she didn't object.