Pigeon: The Showdown I am so going to hell.
Yesterday I rang the RSPCA (and not the RACV as I kept threatening to do) and asked them what we should do about the pigeon that is in our kitchen.
The woman was not sympathetic.
"Shoo it out" she said, in a voice that clearly implied that our hygene standards were suspect and that I was wasting her time.
"But it's nesting. I think it may have eggs. Isn't it cruel to shoo a nesting bird off its eggs?"
"Look, they're not a protected species. Grab it in a towel and shoo it out the window. Then put the eggs in the compost."
There was a pause while I digested this advice and she added:
"You'll feel worse if they hatch and then you have to kill the babies. It not healthy to have a pigeon in your house. They can carry salmonella."
"Isn't there someone I can call who specialises in removing nests from kitchens?"
So that was it. I was resolved to remove the pigeon. But I was a bit shocked by how ruthless she had sounded. I thought the RSPCA loved all animals, be they filthy vermin or not. I rang up Thieu when I got home and, being Thieu, he rigged up a replacement nesting box out of a lindeman's wine box and the string from my kite.
I got a towel and a chair. On the count of three I was to throw the towel over the pigeon and the nest and slide both into the lindeman's box in one swift, elegant manoeuvre and then, with the pigeon happily relocated, the box would be tied to the outside ledge.
But of course, it didn't happen like this. I flung the towel and the panicked pigeon flew at my face, all horrible and fluttery and then out the window. I scraped the nest (now in something of a state of disrepair) into the lindeman's box and we peered in.
There were eggs. Two eggs.
We tied the box to the ledge, knowing that it was futile, that the pigeon would not get it, and that the eggs would die. I know that pigeons are not native and I find them quite revolting, really, but I did feel awful about the eggs. Killing children is not nice. Then we shut all the windows and I' ve made a note to call the landlady about getting some screens.
And now I keep thinking about what the woman at the RSPCA said:
"You've got to keep your windows shut. Pigeons are very opportunistic, you know."
It's been playing on my mind because its such an odd thing to say. Opportunistic.So anthropormophic. It's a bird with an instinct to build a nest in the safest, best spot possible. It wasn't doing it to piss us off or give us salmonella. It was just trying to hatch some eggs.
Anyway, like I said. I'm going to hell. Particularly if God is a pigeon.
Pigeon luring The pigeon is still in the kitchen.
I think I'm going to have to ring the RSPCA and ask for advice.
I am, however, tempted to try what someone at work suggested yesterday- place a number of statues in the kitchen leading from the nest to the window.
The idea is that pigeons are irresistably drawn to sitting on the heads of statues and will this way be drawn away from the nest until it is eventually outside.
I think it's a great idea.
I just need the statues now.
Post Meetup Well, I finally made it to one of the blogger Meetups. As I walked there across the park I couldn't quite believe that I was about to spend an evening with a group of people I'd never met, but there you go, it's quite amazing what you can do. And there were many more than eight people. Did this make it easier or harder? Not sure.
We met at Troika and when I went up to the bar, Paul lent over to me and said "Who are these people?" I explained and he said "Oh. I thought it was a singles get together."
Actually, I think knowing that Kylie was going made things easier, and I also knew that Jenny would be there too, although we've never met. It was an interesting experience. There were still lots of people there I didn't get a chance to talk to, but there's always next time.
And then Petite got onto the same tram as me. She said "It's weird to think there were people there that have read about me" and I agreed that yes, it is weird. This morning I've been looking at all the weblogs, connecting up faces with the words.
Virtual Kitty Fleeced directly, and freshly, from boynton, I know a couple of cat-deprived frontier librarians who may well appreciate this this. It's very nicely done- I like the way you have to keep tickling its tummy or it stops purring.
Habbo Hotel On the recommendation of a collegue at work I logged into Habbo Hotel. This is essentially a chat room, but you get to choose and modify your avatar and you wonder around the (beautifully) designed character. I dressed myself, as a tribute to Donnie Darko, in bunny ears, then went to the hotel disco and danced, facing the wall.
Oddly enough, no one tried to talk to me.
Good Theft Gosh, it was weird to go to Jenny's site and see Grumpy Girl and her anty friend sitting there. I felt like they were moonlighting. Interesting what Jenny says about eavesdropping on blogs. And she is welcome to buy me a drink at Meetup tonight!
Under Seige Got home last night all ready to make Thieu relocate Archie Arachnid from my bedroom. But, of course, Archie was no where to be seen. Thieu kept trying to assure me that he's left the building but I know he's in there somewhere, chuckling, waiting, biding his time for the right moment to leap upon my face while I sleep. Elizabeth Lawley has suggested that I make Archie into a character and I think this is an excellent idea but I don't think this will lessen the fear he arouses in me.
To make matters worse, the pigeon is back. (**note to self: must find Grumpy girl entry about this) Last breeding season this stupid pigeon decided it really really liked our flat. It tried building a nest on the bathroom window sill, but would, not surprisingly, freak out when anyone got into the shower. It was most disconcerting trying to bathe during that time, as every few minutes the pigeon would pop its head around the window to see if you'd gone yet. We called it the pervy pigeon.
So eventually it abandoned this position (even though it had an excellent north-facing aspect) and we figured it had resigned itself to building a nest in a tree, like a normal bird. Then one day Petite was in the lounge room having breakfast when she heard a noise. Looking into the kitchen she was confronted by the sight of the pigeon, standing on the stove, with a big old twig in it mouth. The pigeon then calmly flew up onto the top of the pantry where it had built a nest.In our kitchen.
When it flew out for more twigs, Petite shut the window and we kept it shut until spring was over. But we kept the nest where it was as it amused us. Ho ho tres amusante.
This was a mistake.
On Monday night I went into the kitchen to get some water and heard a noise. When I turned around, there on the nest, was the pigeon, looking down at me with a "yes, can I help you?" expression on its face.
This time we are really not sure what to do. As Petite said, if it has already laid an egg we are in a real ethical dilemma. But it is clearly not a great thing, hygene wise, to have a pigeon living in your kitchen. ("So.... like, why did you leave a nest there for a year?" I hear you ask, to which I reply "shutup.")
The most annoying thing is there are so many trees around our flat that it's just ridiculous that this stupid bird has chosen to live inside our flat. And this is why, like Mark, I fervently believe that pigeons are evil.
blog lightly, as you blog upon my dreams An email from boynton has set me musing. She had been half way through an email to me about her shared phobia** of huntsmen (huntsmans?) and decided just to do a blog entry and a link instead. But then, is this polite? I know it's something I've wondered about, being a relatively new blogger, especially when you have established email contact with someone. On occasion I have even transposed much of the email into the blog anyway.
I daresay this is why comments were invented and perhaps I should embrace it. But I fear it. I fear that I will spend all my time checking to see if anyone has made any and will feel all rejected if no one has. And then I will start to wonder why some posts attract comments and some don't. I think I am too fragile for this.
**I do not see this so much as a phobia per se than as just a question of animal decency. I would never, ever presume to walk across some other creatures face while they are asleep (or even when they are awake) and I think it's only fair to expect the same kind of treatment in response.
Spiders, for some reason, fail to grasp this.
When computers are more polite than humans
I dare say it's just because I'm very tired but I am seeing all kinds of strange parallels between
the conversation of two computers and poor Miss Jen Jen's attempts to get some human decency and respect out of a nasty multi-national corporation.
Arachnid Invader The other contributer to my sleepnessness was the massive huntsman spider that has currently decided to sub-let my room. Yes, yes I know all that about huntsmen not being able to break the skin when they bite you and all that but this is not what I'm concerned about. What worries me is the idea of waking up with it on my face. Since reading Raimond Gaita I am a confirmed non-insect killer (and even before this I was never a spider-killer) but I would definitely like it removed. I was rather hoping that Thieu might oblige, but by the time I got home, Thieu had befriended the spider and I realised it was there to stay. And so, I lay there and waited...
global re-alignment of the blog Went into RMIT on Sat and Sensei 'helped' me fix up a number of things that weren't right about the blog table. I have rather a nasty habit of nesting tables (not sure why, I just do) so when he was looking at the code I felt awfully embarrassed. It is rather like having someone peer into your sock drawer. My sock drawer is a disgrace. I just shove them in and squish them all down and force the drawer to shut. And there are lots of odd socks, and socks with holes that I should throw out but it is so dull to go through a sock drawer that I just never do. I just buy new socks and add them to the mix. This is very much what my blog code looked like too. But Sensei has done a remarkable job and he even added more of those lovely thin lines that i like so much, even though it's a dreadful pain to do them. But I am grateful. And I promise, no more nested tables.
Fatigue My brain woke me up at 3:30 am (just as you predicted, Le Docteur) and would not, despite my pleadings, allow me to get back to sleep.
Worse, it made me wriggle and sigh a lot and disturb poor Thieu who was on the early shift this morning. As a consequence, I feel quite weird this morning. Spacey. It's going to be an interesting day...