Of pigeons and grannies

She told me that the cat brought her a half dead pigeon that it had caught. 
Half dead, because it flew about in her house, leaving feathers everywhere. The cat is not hers. She is not so keen on the cat. And even less on the pigeons. Especially if they leave feather everywhere around her house. I pointed out that the cat must be keen on her. That it brought her the pigeon as a special offering. She stressed that the cat is not hers. She doesn't like cats. And she doesn't like pigeons. She asked me if I like pigeons. I must do, if I am photographing them. I told her that I do. That I like photographing them as they catch a few rays perched on the Argos shop front. She acquiesced. She told me one more time that the cat was not hers. 
She told me that the cat brought her a half dead pigeon that it had caught. 

I was too shy to tell her that I prefer to photograph street grannies even more than pigeons.