If you would have asked me years ago, if I’d be interested in a pigeon, as a pet, I would have given you a blank stare.
I would have assumed that you were joking. I’ve personally always thought of birds, in the same category as fish. Beautiful to look at, while self contained emotionally.
I know that if I owned a large aquarium filled with fish, and when I arrived home, the fish would not be diving up and down, in the water to greet me. I used to feel that way about pigeons, until I inherited one.
When I arrive home from work, and as soon as I unlock the door, I hear the flapping of wings. There is also the jumping up and down, from a stick, in the cage, to the bottom floor.
When I take my pigeon out of the cage, he’ll walk around a bit, and then he’ll come over, to where I am typing, and then sit on my shoe. It’s obvious that all of that flapping and jumping up and down is not just a freedom dance. There is a bit of affection going on here, for he could continue his walking, but chooses to connect with me.
If pigeons weren’t so messy, I’d keep Tweetie out of his cage, all of the time. He does come out, on a regular basis though, and I can tell when I hold him up close, and rub his ears, that he is in seventh Heaven.
“At home this bird is the word-
And yes, my heart has been captured and stirred.”