Countless times I was told to crush the eggs. Countless times I was told that pigeons are dirty, filthy creatures. Countless times I was told how much everyone hates pigeons. Now, I hate being shit on as much as the next girl (and I have been shit on, likely by a pigeon) but, come on; let's just get it out in the open right now: Everyone poops. A person named Taro Gomi even wrote a book on the subject. It is called, "Everyone Poops". It contains such illustrations as this:

The child seems to be having a harder go at it than the grown-up, but both are producing a foul, normally brown, mass of....well...crap. True; ours doesn't fall on cars or people's heads or on balconies and rooftops. Ours is just pumped into the ocean and falls on the heads of whales and tuna and perhaps a shark or two. Put this way, we are the pigeons of the ocean. Being such, we must realize that pigeons are just trying to get by. They can't help their excretory processes, just as we can't help ours. These are the two pigeons I raised. And I loved them.

After three weeks I decided to contact a wildlife rehabilitation centre to take the pigeons. I didn't want to leave them, but I didn't know how to go about teaching them to fly and I wanted them to be free to go and poop wherever their little pigeon hearts desired. They liked to flap: http://s48.photobucket.com/albums/f205/xibo/?action=view¤t=BothFlapping.flv

So, on day 25, I dropped them off to be taken care of by a local rehab centre for wildlife where they lived for another couple of weeks before being set free. Here they are on their last day in Darby Land. Good-bye, Franklin and Willy. I hope you find lots of discarded Beavertail remnants down on the waterfront. Especially the maple ones. Yum.