When I was in the ninth grade, we watched Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds. I'm not sure what the connection was between a movie about birds taking over the world and freshmen English class, but I'm sure my teacher had a valid reason for showing the movie. Unfortunately, whatever message she wanted it to convey was lost somewhere among all the stifled laughter and insulting comments from my classmates (I would never do such a thing). I suppose the movie just didn't seem quite as terrifying or cutting-edge to a bunch of 14-15 year old kids in the year 2000 as it did to the American population when it was released in 1963. It did, however, remind me of a story my family tells about an old, homeless-looking man we once encountered at a Wienerschnitzel. He was feeding the pigeons that had flocked to his side and advised us to do the same because "one day, pigeons might rule the world."
Screwy old man.
Last week, Adam and I came home to find a single pigeon sitting on our roof. Pigeons aren't extremely common in this area, so we both found it interesting that this cute little guy had chosen our house as his new perch.
Before we knew it, our pigeon had a friend. And there they were three. Three completely harmless and kinda cute little pigeons just hangin' out.
We began noticing that each time we went outside, there was another one. There were four when I ran a diaper out the the garbage can, then six when Adam went to lock up the cars for the night. As we sat there watching, every few minutes another pigeon's head would pop up, seemingly out of nowhere. The mysterious pigeons were odd indeed, but rather entertaining to watch.
A couple days after the first pigeon appeared, Morgan and I were playing outside in the yard. I happened to look up at our little pigeon community (that had now reached a population of ten) and I noticed that every single one of them was watching Morgan attentively. It reminded me of a nature show on the Discovery channel where the lioness and her cubs lie waiting in the weeds, crouched down, watching a herd of zebras in the distance, trying to pick out the smallest and most vulnerable target.
Keeping my eye on the increasingly ugly pigeons, I scooped Morgan up and slowly started walking towards the house. That's when the biggest, fattest black pigeon - whom we had cleverly started calling Big Fat Black Pigeon - swooped down off the roof and flew directly over my head. I'm pretty sure I caught a glimpse of bared fangs as I ran into the house screaming.
Each time I look at these not-at-all-cute creatures, I get the feeling that they're plotting something. Adam insisted that I was just being over dramatic -- that they weren't that creepy -- until he saw The Pigeons at night.
He now agrees that Big Fat Black Pigeon is most likely the devil.
We aren't sure what to do about our demon pigeon infestation. We've tried spraying them with a high powered hose nozzle, throwing rocks at them, and we've even done a little target practice with Adam's pellet gun. No matter what we do, the hideous things keep coming back... usually with another side-kick in tow! On Monday we are calling the city to see if they can help rid us of this feathered pestilence before The Pigeons have a chance to execute their plan for world domination.
That is, of course, if we make it through the weekend. I suppose if you don't hear from me again, you'll know what happened.
I'm beginning to believe that old man may not have been as dilusional as we thought.