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| Curly |
While my dad was being the gentle giant fisherman he tends to be at times, he found three babies on the side of the road. He tried to track down their owner to no avail, and reluctantly, he brought them home. I was his first call and rushed over to find three hungry babies. We fed them a healthy meal of corn chex (This was Lucy's diet for the next week), gave them water, and left them to sleep. I told my dad to let me know if animal control couldn't take them, and I would raise them. Animal control would not take them, as it turns out there are no pigeon rescues. I ended up with three new flat mates, and so did Josh.
Spike is the angry teenager of the bunch, and acts like he doesn't love us. Curly is the middle girl and most agreeable. Lucy is the baby, and the most injured. She was mostly naked when we got her, missing fifty percent of her feathers. Not long after we had her, Jack laid on her and smashed her leg, so she was a cripple for two weeks. On an outside adventure the neighbor dog got to her and now she is nursing quite a few side wounds. She was the smallest and the only one we had to force feed. She is quite the trooper, and has questioned my animal raising ability a few times. My dad recently made them a cage, and lovingly refers to them as the grandkids, while Jack is still Jack!
They are banded, that's right we landed ourselves three racing homing pigeons. Maybe one or the other, perhaps both. My dream is to make them carrier pigeons.
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| Curly, Lucy, Spike, from left to right |
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| Lucy |
