Poop, poop, poop!

Every time that I hear the song Thunderbird by Paradise Boys, I think of my pigeons. We have a flock that lives on the roof, alcove, and neighbor's windowsill. Where they originated from, we never did find out. One day, we came home from a day in Sydney, and found two show-pigeons in our back yard, foraging for seeds along the driveway. They stayed with us, had four babies, and consequently attracted some of the city pigeons before expiring recently.

I have grown quite close and affectionate to these birds, and they have very little fear of me. For this reason, they will often enter the house as soon as they spot me open the back door. They enjoy perching upon the door top and lantern in the entryway, and also walking right inside our house to peck crumbs under the dining table. I have to be very quick to close the door behind me when going in or out to prevent this! I do not really mind, except there is usually a bit of a mess to clean up afterwards in the form of feathers and poop.

One day, the gray male pigeon was sitting on the door top as I took some seed out to feed the pigeons their evening meal. I stood there, my Paradise Boys CD playing the Thunderbird song, and I tipped the seed onto their dish on our doorstep. The gray pigeon did not immediately fly down to the food, which was strange. By the time I had noticed this, and looked up at him, he was staring down at me, then he flew down to the seed dish with the others. By the time the song had ended I had gone inside again. I was shortly aware of a gooey mess on my shoulder. The gray pigeon had pooped on me, whilst I had tipped out the seed. Playing this song always reminds me of that gray pigeon of ours, if not all the birds. It amuses me that he pooped on me during such an appropriately titled song.