Somedays You Are The Jet Engine....and Some You Are The Pigeon.

Looking her Best: Maried.

Imagine if pigeons were the humans of the world. Pigeon apartments. Pigeon trains. Pigeon sized things. Inversely, what if humans were the pigeons of the world? One could argue that we already are. 

-Words of wisdom by Maried Rivera.

Think about it.

Anyway, Italy is a land crawling with these magnificent feathered creatures. However, Italy’s pigeons are unlike the rest of the world’s pigeons. Your typical pigeon is gray-blue toned, has 2 legs, 2 wings, feathers, 2 eyes and a beak.  If a human walks by, a normal pigeon will timidly fly away.

The same criteria does not apply for Italian pigeons. Full-grown feathers? No, singed off feathers is the Italian pigeon style. 2 eyes? Uncommon. I guess a pecked out eyeball makes life more thrilling. 2 legs? Rare. Who needs two legs when you can fly? Afraid of humans? Never. We are the ones constantly dodging the mid-flight creatures, which certainly sprinkles some adventure on your morning walk to class.  

I think they become this way because instead of feeding them breadcrumbs like normal human beings would, Italians feed them McDonalds French fries and cigarette butts. An optimal diet for pigeons, they believe. Needless to say, it is always a joy to sit peacefully in a piazza surrounded by hundreds of these disease infested scoundrel birds. I feel clean here… always.

But I call myself lucky. Apparently, I hit the jackpot with my apartment. And by jackpot, I’m speaking in pigeon terms. Aka: Best Location for Pigeon Families! Yipee. I call them my neighbors. Every night I am cooed to sleep by these birds (easily 50 of them) that have declared settlement right outside my window. It is not unusual for me to turn over in bed and say good morning to the pigeon perched on my windowsill, literally 4 inches from my face. Sometimes, but only on the weekends and occasionally Tuesday nights, they get a little rowdy. I have to bang on my wall a few times to keep the racket down…they usually comply.

I must share my favorite pigeon story thus far. It was a warm Bolognese day in October and I decided to open my large window to let fresh air in. One particular pigeon must have thought that my open window was an invitation to join me for lunch. With no hesitation he swooped into my room, fluttered around and looked for a place to sit. It was either my loud scream or sudden flailing of the arms that must have frightened him, luckily giving him the message that he was unwelcome. I have never opened my window since.

And then I killed the bird.

Mallory: 1, Pigeon: 0

Note: I didn’t actually kill the pigeon. A PETA call would be unnecessary, although I highly doubt Italy has an equivalent organization. 

With Love,

Mals