Being the animal loving good Samaritans that we are, my Mom and I wrestled the bird away from the cat, and sat down to assess his wounds. One deep gash was all we saw. Eveything else looked okay. So, here was the moment of truth. We had to decide -- leave it alone and see what happens, which will most likely be death from infection, or try to save it. We went for the latter, and I poured hydrogen peroxide into the wound to flush out debris and kill any germs. I had no idea what I was doing to my poor mother.
You see, we have come to the conclusion that Pecker is trying to kill himself. My Mother and Father will come home to find he has dumped his water bowl all over, or that he is upside down in his food bowl, or that his leg is caught in the bars of his cage. I fully expect that they will come home one day to find him fashioning a tiny noose. Of course, it probably doesn't help his mental state that he now lives under the same roof with the cat who wounded him, and that sometimes Smarty stares at him as if he would like to finish what he started.
If that happens we'll get him a very small gas oven, and rename him Sylvia. Finally, a happy ending.