sandeyePigeonalia - recap of the pigeon soap.
March 3rd 2008 15:37
BabyNob came onto the windowsill. I began to reflect how, once again, my pigeon flock seem to lead a lifestyle akin to those contained in the soaps on TV. Since the homeless duo of Fluffy & Brownie - both since departed - located our back yard as a source for food and love, this real-life soapie has been unfolding before me without the need of cameras or artificial machinery.
The parents gave birth to twin pure-white boys, then a gray son with a slightly malformed foot and a fourth pure-white son. When the father bird was poisoned and died last year, his wife took a son as her new partner until she herself vanished just weeks ago, never to return, assumed dead. Baby1 looked lost, yet seems contented enough not to bother the other birds and just hang out, partnerless.
The second son, Bebe2, went gay with a friend of the flock - Shyly - that flew in with the rougher city pigeons who often spend time hanging out on the lawns and gobbling seed in a haven of love - our yard. When Shyly left the home-flock, Bebe2 chased everything in sight from turtle-dove, seagull, myna bird…
The gray son was very alert and intelligent. Smokey is interested in communicating with human as well as bird. His foot problem did not appear major and after chasing everything available, he found a shy and timid partner from a different flock which visited. Leaving with his new partner Spotty, Smokey returned most days at feed-time, though staying away sometimes and staying with home-flock at others.
Recently, someone without feelings tied cotton to its bad-foot, as if to trap it, I assume. I managed to release two of his toes, but the cotton was too tight on the others for me to cut it away, so his lame foot has blistered up around it and he limps.
The fourth son was lonesome for much time, but then BabyNob found a pretty black and white partner visiting our flock, and Bawwab stayed to become his wife. Alas, Bawwab died after a heart-paining illness or poisoning last week, leaving him along with two of his brothers in solitude.
The four sons hang out in our yard together, Smokey often flying away to his semi-abandoned wife Spotty who rejected joining our flock. Three pure-white pigeons walk about our roof, chase the doves, eat the seed, come to my sill to spend time observing this crazy human with a heart that observes them and attempts to communicate in universal language.
The parents gave birth to twin pure-white boys, then a gray son with a slightly malformed foot and a fourth pure-white son. When the father bird was poisoned and died last year, his wife took a son as her new partner until she herself vanished just weeks ago, never to return, assumed dead. Baby1 looked lost, yet seems contented enough not to bother the other birds and just hang out, partnerless.
The second son, Bebe2, went gay with a friend of the flock - Shyly - that flew in with the rougher city pigeons who often spend time hanging out on the lawns and gobbling seed in a haven of love - our yard. When Shyly left the home-flock, Bebe2 chased everything in sight from turtle-dove, seagull, myna bird…
The gray son was very alert and intelligent. Smokey is interested in communicating with human as well as bird. His foot problem did not appear major and after chasing everything available, he found a shy and timid partner from a different flock which visited. Leaving with his new partner Spotty, Smokey returned most days at feed-time, though staying away sometimes and staying with home-flock at others.
Recently, someone without feelings tied cotton to its bad-foot, as if to trap it, I assume. I managed to release two of his toes, but the cotton was too tight on the others for me to cut it away, so his lame foot has blistered up around it and he limps.
The fourth son was lonesome for much time, but then BabyNob found a pretty black and white partner visiting our flock, and Bawwab stayed to become his wife. Alas, Bawwab died after a heart-paining illness or poisoning last week, leaving him along with two of his brothers in solitude.
The four sons hang out in our yard together, Smokey often flying away to his semi-abandoned wife Spotty who rejected joining our flock. Three pure-white pigeons walk about our roof, chase the doves, eat the seed, come to my sill to spend time observing this crazy human with a heart that observes them and attempts to communicate in universal language.
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