An unpleasant experience

I have an old lady friend who I visit from time to time. We drink tea and laugh a lot, she talks about her childhood and some of her happier times, and if necessary I do odd jobs for her. Like many older people she gets into a state of panic very easily and I have told her over and over again to call if she needs help. She is reluctant to do so and so yesterday afternoon as I was settling down to a post lunch doze, she called, and I knew that she was panicking.
When I got there, she was indeed at her wits end. Something had got into her fireplace and was making a great deal of noise. Now this is an old large Edwardian fireplace that has been fitted with a gas fire of considerable vintage. It is sealed in with a sheet metal screen that is screwed into the fabric of the fireplace and the fire itself sealed in with gaffer tape. The whole thing was moving and it sounded as if some large beast was fighting to get out. The sheet metal bulged outwards and bits and pieces were clearly cascading down the chimney.
I ushered Liz very slowly out of the room, not wanting her to be there when whatever it was was released, made her a cup of tea and proceeded to dismantle the arrangement that had lain their untouched for decades. Of course the screws were corroded in and could not be budged and so I eased the fire away from the chimney, disengaging it from its flue and from the heavy duty tape that held it in place. While this was going on the occupant of the dark space behind had fallen silent. Beneath the fire was a hole that led into the cellars below. What on Earth could have come up? However that thought was dispelled when I realised that there was no connection between that hole and whatever lay beyond. Unable to free the sheet metal barrier I could only thrust my hand through the flue to investigate what had been making the noise and that hole wasn't very big. Tentatively I groped around in the dark, half expecting to be bitten or dragged screaming into oblivion - I watch too many bad movies! Nothing! Whatever it was had moved out of reach.
I found a walking stick near to the front door and returned - thrust said stick up aforementioned chimney and waggled it around. Mayhem in the chimney resumed as the trapped beast sprang back into action and I caught my first glimpse. A large and very scared Wood Pigeon was struggling to get back up the sooty passage that it had come in by and was hopelessly failing. Almost as scared as it was, I resumed my attempts at grabbing it, grasping it's tail firmly I endeavoured to release it from its prison. I succeeded with the tail but alas it had become detached from the poor bird in the struggle and i was left with a large handful of warm feathers. There was now less of the bird to struggle and the poor thing flapped and floundered while i tried to grab it by something else. I found a wing and eased it from the hole, most of the wing feathers came out in my hand an the now dismembered bird escaped into the room in a cloud of feathers. On all fours I chase it around the room, under chairs and around furniture, under curtains and over sofas until the petrified beast ran out of will to live and I grasped it with both hands. I could feel its heart pounding in my grip and see the fear its eyes. I couldn't bring myself to wring its neck and so released it outside the back door. To my amazement it flew away. I still don't know how it managed that with no tail and one and a half wings. No aircraft could have achieved that I am sure.
I returned to the room of carnage, picked up the feathers and reassembled the fire, feeling quite shaken by the plucking of a live bird and feeling very bad about the pain that I must have inflicted.
The consolation of course was that Liz was back in posession of her peace of mind and that should the pigeon meet a swift end in the jaws of a fox, it will be preferable to a long death in a fireplace.