I met a guy who knew an heir to the Chrysler fortune and she raised pigeons to help train her hunting dogs and on her estate she had a literal pit full of dead Redtail Hawks that used to prey on her pigeons. Her sentencing by the judge was hilarious, community service at a homeless shelter kitchen where the heir supervised her help staff do the kitchen work, till the judge found out.
“Her sentencing by the judge was hilarious, community service at a homeless shelter kitchen where the heir supervised her help staff do the kitchen work, till the judge found out.”
I know of one even worse than that. There’s an ultra-libtard woman who lives in area. She’s an ‘activist’ of sorts. Went to Iraq to be a ‘human shield’, but left a day before the war began. She goes out and protests at nuclear sites and then prides herself on getting arrested when security has to drag her off. Well, her luck ran out when she went to protest the US detainment of the high value savages at Gitmo, by going to Ft Huachuca in AZ and trespassing to get herself arrested. The federal judge was quite lenient IMO, having pity on this ‘poor old woman’, and only sentenced her to 500 hours of community service. Clever as she was, she put the land she owns and lives on in some sort of tax exempt land trust that would qualify for her ‘community service’ by doing nothing but working on her own land!!! This same bitch used to brag about being friends with Janet Reno.
My *pigeons* are mourning doves; I dearly love them. They are so sweet, with their bobbing heads as they waddle around the seed I put out.
When I lived in Boston, part of my walk was down Commonwealth, a tree-lined esplanade with park benches. Often, I would observe a very distinguished looking elderly gentlemen, Brooks Brothers garbed, carrying a large black valise.
One would suspect he was an attorney, on this way to the office; he would sit down on a bench, open his valise, and pigeons from blocks away would flock to him ... It was almost like St. Marks Square. The valise was filled to the brim with popcorn. Pandemonium.
I hoped I wouldn't get *plopped* on. I learned to hate pigeons.
But pets, I do draw a distinction. During the World Wars, homing pigeons had their place.