It's a pigeon life

There are more than a few pigeons hanging around the airport, some even finding time to breed in some cubby-hole in a gateway. I’ve seen several dead pigeons, and I wondered how they died; they didn’t appear to have been killed by a sea gull competing for food, which would have the closest thing to a predator on the ramp. A week ago I was confronted by a curious sight: A pigeon crouched and ruffled in an aspect of sleep on the ground, oblivious to everything that was going on around it. I approached closed to it to see if it was actually alive; but other than the fact it acknowledged my presence by an eye movement, it otherwise didn’t move muscle. Normally a feral pigeon would not allow itself to be vulnerable in this fashion, but something was clearly wrong. Presently I went about my work-a-day business, but when I came back I noticed that the pigeon was sprawled out on the concrete, its wings spread out. It was still alive, but I didn’t hold out much hope for it. The next morning I checked on it and none to my surprised it had passed on to the next world. It had somehow known that its time was up, and just wanted to find a quiet place to die. It may have died from Salmonella, which in birds has no obvious symptoms; in the airport environment it is easy to contract such a disease, with the various contaminating agents available.

People are accustomed to seeing street pigeons, and sometimes take pleasure in feeding them. What an easy life they lead, or so people think. I once saw a pigeon that was acting quite bizarrely; it was trying to eat seed, but seemed to have considerable trouble doing so. Something seemed to be wrong with eyes, and it kept pecking at and missing its target. When it did by chance snare a morsel in its beak, it could not easily swallow it; it kept twisting its head backward in an effort to force the seed to fall down its throat by gravity. Most of the time it failed, the seed being tossed aside; it was a sad, pathetic sight. I observed it become weaker and weaker over the next two weeks, and then not at all. I did some research and discovered that the symptoms that I observed correlated with a disease called Pigeon Paramyxovirus. Mortality in moderate cases is 10 percent, but obviously a feral bird like this has even less chance of survival. In order for “domestic” pigeon to survive, it usually has to be hand fed, with the food pushed inside its throat.

I have also seen pigeons with foot deformities. One such bird had one toe on each foot. This is often caused by an infection called Staphylococcus, more commonly referred to as “bumble-foot.” Bacteria—often from tramping in pigeon droppings—gets inside cracks in the foot and causes various problems that lead to the destruction of foot tissue. In feral pigeons, bumble-foot cannot be reversed. However, these pigeons actually have a better chance of survival than birds whose toes were amputated after getting caught in stray wire, because of the more rapid progress of infection. Pigeons with bumble-foot can not only survive if food is plentiful, but be capable of breeding (I know; I’ve seen it).

I used to have very friendly relations with the pigeons at work, but not anymore; feeding them is discouraged. But I still find that there is something to be learned from them about life, and death. Here I’ve seen the fight for survival, battling against the odds, living with disabilities, and dying with dignity. I have even learned compassion, as in regard to this one-toed bird which has managed with some surreptitious assistance.