I lose again!

Every time I think I've figured out a way to effectively communicate and train our cats, I lose. You think I'd give up by now, seeing as most of my strategies are as effective as a square wheel. The problem is that cats are smart. After our simian cousins, the cat's brain is the most similar to ours in physiological function. Which means that, in theory, cats are capable of figuring out puzzles and the like. But because they are cats, they don't see the world as we do.
For example, we live in a dilapidated rental home. Some of our windows have screens and some do not. The screen on the back door had a huge hole in it when we moved in. Our industrious cats soon figured that they could let themselves in and out of the house through these many faulty screens. Which led to our first problem, namely the new kitty doctrine of "that which is not a wall must be a door". Thus the cats have attempted to enter or exit through ANY window, screened in or nay. Which has led to many instances of me yelling and brandishing a squirt bottle full of water.

With dogs you can train them to avoid certain behaviors if you reprimand them while in the act; with cats it is not so simple. What happens is that the cat learns to avoid having you around while perpetrating the offending behavior.
They're sneaky, see?

And as I am very pregnant, I cannot see my feet. The cats have begun to take advantage of that as well. Jack, the most garrulous cat this side of the Mississippi, has taken to meowing at me from under the shade of my belly. When I move to make eye contact with him, he moves right along with me, continuing to demand that I pay attention! It's like I have a kitty waltzing partner. When he tires of this charade, he rubs against my legs (while purring) and then saunters off to the food bowl.

But today--today was the most treacherous of all abuses of my blind spot!
I had just finished rolling the trashcans back from the curb and was preparing to go inside when I noticed Lunchbox's reflection in the window of the front door. I couldn't actually see her, as she was standing beneath where I keep the baby. So I open the door, Lunchbox runs in ahead of me and drops a bird, a very much alive bird, on the middle of the living room floor. And I just about lose it--I'm trying to herd the bird out the open door, while the bird is trying to avoid me and Lunchbox at the same time, all the while dropping feathers all over the place. This bird is not so much scared as it is pissed off and it keeps making a horrible angry-bird noise while I try to corral it. I eventually figure that this is not a cooperating type of bird and go off to grab a dishtowel, for the purposes of subduing the squawking menace. I am at the same time, yelling at Lunchbox (as though she speaks English) "How many times do I have to tell you 'no animals in the house'?" Well, I don't know if inside wasn't as fun as she thought, or if she was tired of me yelling, but while I was off getting a towel, Lunchbox took the angry bird back outside. Leaving a feather-and-poop strewn living room for me to clean up.
So the tally is officially 2-0 in Lunchbox's favor; that's one rat and bird she's managed to sneak by my pregnant body.