Monday, April 18, 2005

the pigeon vacuum

Pete was gone from his roost on the porch by the time I looked for him this morning. No piles of feathers, drops of blood or disembodied red feet anywhere in the vicinity, so I'd like to assume the best (though I haven't checked the roof yet.) So this afternoon, any normal person would think the story was over.

Pete's absence has apparently caused a pigeon vacuum to develop over my house. Another pigeon has come skidding across the lawn to an upended stop at my house, tossed from the Torino. Or, in this case, a Ford Explorer, which belongs to a friend of mine who was bringing me some duck heads for the Harrises. An acquaintance of his had been messin' with a brand new BB gun. My buddy, who is a decent shot, decided to show him how to use it.

Enter pigeon #2, stage right.

Pigeon #2 staggers from a BB shot to the neck, allowing my buddy the crucial two seconds required to catch said pigeon and stuff it in a paper sack along with the frozen duck heads. (The Harrises' beaks need the application of a Dremel tool, but duck heads are considerably less stressful and somewhat effective.)

Pigeon #2, being a pigeon, exudes testosterone, slicks his hair back, flares his nostrils and says, "It's only a flesh wound." He revives, chop-sockying his way to freedom from the paper bag, only to flap crazily around my dining room.

Pigeon #2 is considerably more slick than Pete, and it takes ten minutes to catch him and throw him into the cage recently vacated.

He also has lice, which means the cage will need to be sterilized after we figure out what to do with him. He has a wound to the crop – not fatal, but it makes him unreleasable for the time being. I don't know if he'll become hawk food. Maybe the pigeon takeout is pre-ordained.

1 comment:

max inclined said...

BTW, the name is Jackie Pi-chan.