We Have Reservations.

I had no idea pigeons were among the smartest critters on the planet. Once upon a time I threw these seemingly harmless visitors a little birdseed. They apparently interpreted that gesture as a sign that I wanted nothing more in the world than to take care of them forever. So, they started to hang around and of course I bought a bag of food specifically for pigeons -- pretty good stuff I might add (if you're a pigeon). That's where I made my big mistake. I thought they would simply show up every once in a while and calmly enjoy their treat. But no. They recognize me; they know what time I get home from work; they sit on my car and, as you can see from the picture, they meet me at the gate. They follow me out to get the mail and if I start to walk down the block in the evening they walk behind me until they figure out that I don't have food with me.

They seem to divide their time between my house and another house down the street. I've talked to the lady there who says she's been feeding them for about 20 years, (eek) but they're not "her" pigeons. Nobody seems to know where the flock came from, but apparently they think they belong to us now. I may be losing my mind but I'm becoming fond of the little dears. They're kind of fun and they do so appreciate the food.

They do everything as a single-minded "flock" which strikes me funny becuse it means they all move together and even if I scatter they food they all bunch up and stay that way while they eat, all pecking at the same spot at the same time. I love the whiff-whiff sound their wings make and when the amorous males start cooing at the females it can get very entertaining indeed.

I buy a 50-pound sack of food which has to stay in my car until it gets light enough for me to lift. That would appear to be the reason they know which car is mine and are always waiting when I get home from work (apparently they can tell time as well). So, I now park the car and dish out dinner while they hover overhead, or on my head. I feel like Tippi Hedren in "The Birds", but they seem harmless, just very hungry. Occasionally they'll leave me a feather or two on the front porch. I prefer to believe that it's their way of saying thank you since there's not much else they can do to show their appreciation.