Apparently today is my one year anniversary of blogging…yay!
I therefore thought it would be nice to share with you a story which my mother told me a few days ago. I call it, the story of the funky pigeon.
It was on a Friday when my mother was getting ready to head out to work. She was already running a little bit late, so her natural priority was to leave on time. Whilst making her breakfast, she looked through the kitchen window and noticed that a pigeon had entered the bird house. The problem was that my dad had built it so pigeons couldn’t get in. How it did was anyone’s guess.
The bird house in the back garden, taken in the recent few days I was back home
My mum thought that the pigeon might leave the bird house on it’s own, and so left it alone. She carried on getting ready when she looked out of the window upstairs, and saw that it was still there. She now started to worry a little, it was almost time for her to leave! She came out into the garden and used a milk carton (don’t ask me why) to try and shoo the pigeon off. Unfortunately it didn’t budge. She thought that might still be hungry, and decided to let it be for a further five minutes, before trying to take the pigeon out of the bird house herself.
Five minutes later my mum came out to the garden where to her horror, she found scattered feathers on the floor. The pigeon was wounded and a black and white cat was circulating the bird house. It was obvious that it wasn’t going to leave anytime soon.
Now my mother panicked. She shooed off the cat, but realised that if she left home with the pigeon inside the bird house, the cat would surely come back for it, for it knew that the pigeon had nowhere to go. It was trapped and injured. So what did my mum do? What any loving mother would do, she took the pigeon into our home.
The problem however was that it was injured and it needed medical attention. Not knowing how to rescue the pigeon safely from the bird house without injuring it further, she did the next best thing…she brought the whole bird house inside our house.
My mum rang the RSPCA and after explaining what had happened, she was informed that it maybe a couple of hours until somebody would come to take the injured pigeon. Now that she was definitely running late for work, she had to get reinforcements. Who better to be available than my dad, who was almost finishing his early shift! She rang him and after he managed to calm her down, she headed off to work. It was not long until my dad came home and awaited for the RSPCA team. Once they arrived they took the pigeon from the bird house safely and transferred it to their facility, to receive the appropriate treatment.
When my mum told me of this story down the phone, I literally couldn’t believe my ears. I imagined that it was something you could base a mini movie on, and had it running in my head! The fact that my mum carried that tall bird house through the back entrance of the house, with a fluttering pigeon inside shocks me even now. It was a simple yet sweet story about caring for another creature and doing what you can to save it. Yes it was a story of my mother and a pigeon she saved. But it is also a story I would be proud to tell my children.