Somewhere in this city is a huge mound of disconnected pigeon feet. I don't know this for sure but I am extrapolating from the extraordinary number of one footed pigeons I see about the place. No gathering of pigeons is complete without at least one of them stumping around like an avian Long John Silver.
One wonders if the other pigeons gather in awe of their maimed comrades and retell the stories of their injuries in hushed whispers. Or possibly the one footed pigeons themselves gather in special clubs like the RSL to swap war stories and mutter disapprovingly about the lack of respect in young pigeons today.
It has to be admitted that I don't feel particularly sorry for these battered crumb predators. If I could fly by flapping my arms (and when I was a child I tried very hard) I would probably be a little more careful of my feet. After all there is no point in swooping majestically out of the sky only for the landing to be a complete shambles because I'm missing one of my feet.
Naturally there are reasons for the high incidence of foot injuries among pigeons. Rats, I hear, are a leading contributor. I can only imagine that the rats are going for the only bit they can get; surely even a rat, given the choice, would select a tastier part of the pigeon than its feet. Other reasons for foot loss include landing on grates, sharp things, getting stuck in stuff and occasionally absentmindedness.
One could look at the previous paragraph and conclude that pigeons have a pretty tough life but I'm not so sure. Having taken an impromptu survey of the feathered vermin that infest our city I have failed to discover a similar incidence of foot loss amongst either the ibis or seagulls. Even after all extenuating circumstances are taken into account one can't help coming to the conclusion that pigeons are just bloody idiots. And they don't watch where they put their feet.
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