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Honolulu Lite Charles Memminger |
Getting even further
ahead with lost birdsA bird in the hand, so they say, is worth two in the bush. A bird on the head, however, is another matter.
A bird on the head is worth worrying about whether the little fella is about to poop. Which is what I was wondering when a wayward homing pigeon came in for a perfect two-point landing on my noggin the other day.
Repeated reports in this space that my lanai has become some sort of Bermuda Triangle for lost birds has been met with skepticism. And that's understandable. You're sitting around with friends having a few cocktails and you suddenly say, "A big old homing pigeon landed on my head," and people think you're desperate for attention. They think you're pathetic.
A bird landed on your head? Why, didn't a lost bird just land on your shoulder a few months ago? And before that, some other bird flew right into your house? Buddy, if you're going to make up stuff, at least make it believable. Claim you're an arms smuggler, or something.
So, as the bird was sitting on my head contemplating the scenery and perhaps a bowel movement, I sent my daughter running off to get the camera. It was a race with the devil to see which would discharge first -- the camera or the bird. Luckily, the camera won.
With photographic proof now in hand -- and in print -- I can tell you that the Bird Man of Kaneohe has struck again.
To quickly recap, a few years ago a lovebird about to be attacked by a vicious gang of finches flew onto my shoulder on my lanai. We named it Sweetie before learning it is as mean as a snake and can speak three human phrases, all of them savagely ironic.
Sweetie has since enticed three other lost lovebirds into our house, one she tried to assassinate forthwith. We gave two away and kept the third one, a young male who cowered in the corner of the cage with Sweetie for only a few months before asserting himself. Now Sweetie and Baby are as happy and compatible as two feathered piranhas.
THEN, THE OTHER day, my daughter notices a beautiful orange/brown and white pigeon on the roof. I go outside and the bird lands on my head. It was a homing pigeon, an obviously confused one, since my head looks hardly anything like a homing pigeon cage.
We fed the bird some seed and water, and it strutted around on a deck table looking very proud and expensive, as if to say, "Don't even THINK of touching me." Then I noticed the plastic band on its leg. I went on the Internet to learn that the markings on the band meant the bird was 1 year old, from Hawaii and registered with the National Pigeon Association. A Web site devoted to lost homing pigeons advised feeding and watering the bird and letting it rest until it's ready to find its way home.
And that's what happened. An hour later, it took off. Why birds fly to my house when they're lost I still don't know. I'm just glad I'm there to help, especially when I don't have to shampoo afterward.
See the Columnists section for some past articles.
Charles Memminger, the National Society of Newspaper Columnists' 2004 First Place Award winner for humor writing, appears Sundays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. E-mail cmemminger@starbulletin.com
