Stop the pigeon


“There is a dead pigeon on the lawn,” said Mrs R, coming into the bedroom.

“Oh,” I grunted, peering blearily out from under the duvet, “good.” (I don’t like pigeons much – they are very numerous, eat my vegetables and enjoy copious, flappy bouts of mating in the trees).

After breakfast I went out to dispose of the corpse (corpse disposal is one of my duties according to the unwritten household constitution).

The pigeon was in a bad way, I could tell it was dead because its head was some distance from its body. It was a sizeable bird. I speculated on how it had met its end on the lawn and quickly produced some hypotheses:

1. It had been caught by a neighbourhood cat (probability 40%).

2. It had been caught by a neighbourhood fox (probability 45%).

3. The Peregrine Falcon had passed by again (probability 10%)

4. It had been caught by the legendary Norfolk Pooma (probability 85%).

But none of these explanations seemed to account for the spectacular scatter-pattern of feather debris. I concluded that something else was to blame.

5. It was the victim of a high speed mid-air collision. Most likely with a small asteroid fragment or a Predator drone.

I disposed of the corpse in the usual fashion – chucking it over the hedge where the fox will find it tonight.

4 Responses to “Stop the pigeon”

  1. 1 Eddie Woz

    you forgot to mention that they are copious defecators as well

    • Eddie – good point. Especially on a freshly washed car.

      • 3 Eddie Woz

        and especially on my carefully assembled Zen garden. Guano and expensive blue/grey slate is not a great combination

  2. 4 Kinside

    Maybe it was the solar flare… Or it lost its head in an emergency… That happened to a rabbit of mine, way back (was the fox).

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