P is for Pigeon

It’s not often you find yourself worrying about the wellbeing of a pigeon. Certainly not one who isn’t about to meet with an imminent splatting or isn’t contemplating savouring a particularly questionable kerbside culinary delicacy. In the grand scheme of things pigeons don’t really get all that much attention beyond some gentle and mild contempt or the gleeful incitement of terror by the odd rebellious toddler. No one gets overly invested in a pigeon’s life. Or maybe I’m misreading what I think is ambivalence and everyone’s terribly concerned.

When you’re waiting for a bus and a little starved for things to think about, pretty much anything will do. So it wasn’t all that surprising that a sickly pigeon doing a masterful impression of a turtle by nestling its head as close to its body as possible was attracting curious glances from many a would be passenger. You could tell that something was quite definitely wrong. Pigeons are generally relatively skittish at the best of times and this guy was letting people plant their potentially avian bone crushing feet just a dew inches away without moving a muscle or batting a tiny pigeony eyelid.

But what do you do in this kind of situation? You know, because this sort of thing happens so very often and it’s important to be sure of how to react. We’re British after all, it’s important that social etiquette have its proper standing in social interactions. You can hardly scoop up a filthy disease ridden bird, tenderly nurse it back to health and release it back into the wild of the urban jungle where old chips and discarded cigarette butts can be found for all important sustenance. And yet you can’t help but feel that little bit guilty for not doing anything at all for living creature that’s definitely in some variety of peril. But then the bus came and that shot to the top of my list of priorities.

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