There was nothing wrong with the pigeon. Whoever brought it in (and i don't really know the details, as it came in before my shift) was simply able to get close enough to grab it, and assumed that because the bird let them get that close, there was something wrong with it. So into the hospital it came.
This wasn't an ordinary grey pigeon. This was a homing pigeon. Someone's homing pigeon, as it was banded. Beautiful bird too, snow white, very elegant looking. I do like pigeons, though.
So I call the wildlife rehab people in the morning. They don't really want it, since there is nothing wrong with it and they don't much like taking pigeons in anyway. They tell us to just release it if it is healthy. Central is next to John Wayne airport. I figured releasing the bird there would be unnecessarily cruel. So little bird comes to Garden Grove with me, in a box on the floor of my car.
When I get here, my brother is leaving for work. He's the one person in my family who might give a damn about things like this, so I get the bird out of the box and show it to him. He seemed fascinated by the pigeon. I showed him the bands ... he wanted to touch the bird and I let him ... it was cute.
And then I let the pigeon fly away ... such a neat feeling, to have a bird fly from my hands ... and just to watch it fly off made me so happy for whatever reason ...
I stood outside for about twenty minutes, just watching the thing ... it perched up on the roof. My dad came out to go to work, and if he didn't think I was crazy already, I'm sure the sight of me in the driveway staring at a pigeon may have pushed him in that direction ...
I don't think anyone at work has the balls to tell me i have to change my hair color. and as long as no one tells me that I must, I'm not going to change it. I almost feel bad, like I'm taking advantage of the fact that they have no cojones ... but that's not my fault.
I've been so enjoying myself these last few days ... I see the people i love, things are going smoothly, i'm not stressing over everything ... really couldn't ask for much more.
My poor wussy chihuahua got attacked by one of Lisa's kittens last night at TC ... FLea loves kittens, and he just tried to get a closer look at the one he was sharing my lap with, and it swiped at him ... it was really sad to see him afraid of the kitties for the rest of the night.