Tippy Hedren

Ew. There was a freshly squashed pigeon in the crosswalk on my walk to work this morning. Now, I'm generally not very fond of pigeons, especially in this town where so many of them are clearly diseased or maimed to the point that they resemble a Jim Henson creation. But I have oh-so-many pigeon stories. I used to enjoy eating outside in the fresh air and California sun, so most of my stories involve ruined lunches... except the time I got beaned in the noggin by a pigeon as I was walking to the bus stop one morning. Actually, now that I think of it, a baby robin flew right into me at that bus stop too. Huh.

Anyhoodle, though most spoiled lunch hours have involved a pigeon crapping on or near me or my food (I'm a birdshit magnet, seriously), I recently learned two things: A] there is a very mean seagull in the park who tried to eat a pigeon, much to that pigeon's dismay (I really wanted to watch the scene play out -- would it swallow the thing whole or would there be gore -- but some hippy animal lover shooed the seagull away and it dropped the freaked-out pigeon before any damage was done); and B] pigeons have the ability to throw up, as one did near my foot. Now, if it's gross enough to make a pigeon vomit, you know it's bad. Of course, that didn't stop other pigeons from coming up and going, "Hey! Free lunch!" which is precisely the point where I packed up and left nature to the birds.