Here's your HEARTWARMING Weekend Thread:


If you've read my other thread you know I'm home sick, dealing with what appears to be a gallbladder issue. I'm fairly certain surgery will be involved and am trying to put off heading to the hospital until Monday, for obvious reasons. I'm hurting but not in so much pain I can't last, it just hurts more when I'm up and moving so, previously, I joked that my sudden condition absolves me of laundry duty. If you know my posts you know I have 5 cats and take care of 3 others who, when weather is nice, go outside. Otherwise, the 3 are kept in my downstairs kitchen (I use an upstairs kitchen because it's nicer and has more light... My house used to be split into upstairs/downstairs apartments and I'm hanging onto both kitchens, for now).

At about 6pm I decided I was in decent enough shape to head to the basement to continue with the laundry. I had to go through the downstairs kitchen (where the Kitchen Cats hang... I'd let them inside earlier and one had a surprise he'd, evidently, dragged to the basement while my attention was diverted. I didn't find out until THIS trip. I was sickened when I entered the kitchen and saw one of the KC's spitting feathers from his mouth. They all took off when I entered leaving, in the middle of the room, a poor, defenseless pigeon with a wide-open bleeding wound in the center of her back. The poor thing stood, breathing heavily, batting it's eyelids, stunned. The cats were out of the way as I quickly reached into the adjoining mud room for a cat carrier. I grabbed a fresh towel to line the carrier and carefully scooped up the poor bird and set it inside, closing and locking the carrier door. I could feel the sweet bird's heart beating and was trying not to shock it any further as I did this among the cats (two confused, one annoyed that I'd snatched away his "kill"). I set the occupied carrier on a crowded table in my mud room and closed the door so the bird didn't have to fear the cats, then I raced to get dressed. I was glad that, even though I'd been trapped at home all day with my little gallbladder issue, I'd still gotten up early and got all cleaned up and made up...

So, I quickly drove to the nearest Emergency Vet Clinic, knowing they don't deal with wild animals but hoping they would be willing to humanely euthanize the pigeon. The whole way there I gently talked to the confused bird as it batted its' eyelids. So I get to the vet clinic and the doctor said they just weren't equipped to deal with wild critters (I love that place, though, because they have this really great cat who wanders the hallways... didn't get to see her this trip). The doctor gave me directions to the nearest clinic that deals with wildlife, about 5 freeway exits away. I was worried the bird would pass on the way but was really freaking when she called the clinic and they were CLOSED. Just like with my gallbladder, every trauma seems to happen after everything's closed, ever notice that?! Meanwhile, my discussion with the doctor toggled between two topics: A safe location in my house for Pidgy and the doctor's recent gallstone experience... I can't make this stuff up.

The doctor looked over Pidgy and suggested she looked pretty good. "Stable" was her word. She told me the wildlife clinic patches up all manner of wild critters and re-releases them into the wild. Hopefully, Pidgy would make it through the night. I have a bunch of styrofoam cups I keep for work-related potlucks and parties and I took two of those, cut them down, and made two "dishes," one for water, the other for birdseed, setting them just inside the carrier. Then I set her up in the mud room and opened the blinds so she could see the daylight in the morning, if she lasted. Then I left her in a quiet space so she could have some peace, get some sleep, and, hopefully, recover - or pass in a place without fear of "vicious" attack cats. I didn't hold out a lot of hope because I know many wild birds die from tiny bite wounds after being jumped by a cat.

Okay, here's the heartwarming part: At 11:00pm I went to check on Pidgy and she was sitting up in the back of the carrier, batting her eyes, evidently no longer in shock and perfectly fine. I was just about to turn away when something next to Pidgy caught my eye. I moved in close to the carrier for a better look. It looked like a little white cotton ball but I quickly realized that was impossible and got closer. It was an EGG...! An egg with a little blood smear. Little Pidgy was preggers when she was attacked. She was inches from death but now she's fine - and now she's going to be a mom! I saved a mommy! Tomorrow morning she goes to the wildlife rescue place where I'm sure they'll know how to care for her and her little bundle of joy.

What a strange day in my life.


Great job and what a wonderful thing to take your mind of your own issues at the moment !

Thank you for being you ! I adore living creatures and appreciate others who are the same. ;)

<<<Sending good vibes for the "gallbladder" issues>>>


I loved that story! Thanks for being such a sweet angel to the bird (and her baby!) I have been worried about you this weekend. I read your post but we have been so busy redoing our yard that I am hardly on here and not replying to anything. I do hope you are ok. Please keep us posted - on you and the bird :)

(Also, sorry for the off topic, but I also read you are doing PN - did you get the whole thing or are you doing the 10 basic steps or however many there are?)

Thanks again for the sweet story - sending Stacey and Pidgy hugs your way :)


Aw. :) Stacey, you get some serious Karma Points for this. <3 Much luck to Pidgy and Baby Pidgy.

(I hope you feel better soon too!)


I love pigeons, I really do. So pretty and interesting to watch, with their social groups and courting behaviours. She might have more eggs in there, or might have more in her nest, if that's where she was taken from by your cat.

My beautiful little Bourke's parakeet flew into my life one day - a previous owner left her door open and she flew away to me (I know this because the previous owner came into the pet store I use and told them what happened - but they didn't give me up!) The first year, no eggs. Since then, she lays 4 eggs every three months, and sits on them for a month solid. They never hatch, because they aren't fertilized, and she eventually gives up. She is human-imprinted, so when she's ready for more eggs, she starts coming on to us - courting us and asking us to court her back. It is so freakin' cute! It must be frustrating for her to never have babies, but Bourke's parakeet studs aren't that easy to come by in my neck of the woods, and what would I do with all the babies?

This kind of parakeet is known as a grass parrot, because they prefer to walk than fly. When she's out of her cage, she just hangs out on our shoulders or legs, or whatever. She might take a quick 30 second flight, landing and breathing heavily, like she'd been doing a Cathe step class for the past hour! It's really funny to see - she just prefers not to fly. Maybe she thinks she's human. Sometimes she lands on the dog - now that's something to see! The cats are kept away, obviously.

She has all kind of funny traits - I really recommend this kind of bird to anyone looking for a pet.


Update on Pidgy:

Okay, first, I was informed that Pidgy's actually not a pigeon but a mourning dove. She made it through the night and looked really great this morning. Very alert and a little feisty when I tried to pet her head. I got her to the wildlife rescue place and could see the doctors through the windows as I spoke with the (very educated) girl at the front desk. I had to go to the bathroom at one point and when I came back the doctors were chasing after her as she flew about the room - so she can still fly.

The girl at the desk started explaining how to tell pigeons and mourning doves apart and I said "Ohhhh. Pigeons are the one's with the iridescent wings?" Yep. Mourning doves are all shades of brown. When I asked what happens next she said they'd contact me when she's better and that they can release her back into the wild or let me do it. I already knew I wanted to do it but I asked where they'd release her if they did it and, reading my meaning, she said "She'll find her way back home... to her mate." My eyes went wide and I said "Oh my God. They mate FOR LIFE, don't they!!!" She said they do and that I should be on the lookout for her partner because he'll be agitated and, with all the cats around, might put himself at risk looking for her. Sure enough, when I got home I looked out my kitchenette window (the upstairs kitchen) and, there in the tree, sat a lone mourning dove on a branch, watching and waiting for his lady love. Then I saw another mourning dove and, looking closer, saw a second. I'd never before noticed that they are, indeed, all paired off. And to think I was almost too afraid to rescue Pidgy from the Kitchen Cats because the wound on her back looked so bad I thought it was too late. Her man would have been left all alone, always wondering what happened to his partner and their babies...

In the end, it was decided that they would call me and I would release her back. When I do I will make sure there are no cats around to ruin the happy reunion. I've learned a lot from this experience and I now know I will always jump in and at least try to rescue any critters my cats tangle with, even if it's after clinic hours and I have no way to perform humane euthanasia, myself. In the future, I will do what I can to make the injured creature feel as safe and comfortable as possible and get it professional help as soon as I can because, I'm no vet and you just never know. I mean, this bird went from looking pretty bad to actually being, for the most part, quite healthy. I don't want the creature's partner to be left alone, sad and wondering what happened to the love of his life. You know, I kept Pidgy overnight in my mud room with the blinds open. I bet her mate could see her from the tree outside... Now that she's no longer there he has to be wondering what's going on.

BTW, I feel pretty well, though That Spot on my tummy is starting to feel like a rock. But unless something goes horribly wrong (I doubt it) I'll be fine putting off medical attention until tomorrow morning.

I'll let you all know when I get more news on Pidgy. You know, I was flirting with calling her "Doctor" when they told me she's a mourning dove (m.d. = doctor... get it? Yea, I know...). But I've been calling her "Pidgy" and she's used to hearing it so Pidgy it is.

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