We were on our way to the train station and had just stepped into the car park of the flats. Phil (our guest this weekend) set down his bag while Neil and I surrounded a car. Peering underneath we could see the pigeon was injured. Though our cowboy mojo is lacking, we managed to corral the crippled bird to the grass. From there I gently picked him up and set him in the cover of a large shrub surrounded by daffodils. Judging by his wound he won’t make it through the night but at least he’s out from under someone’s car and can feel more secure (and comfortable) in his cover. We then cleaned our hands and continued on to the station.
If I look out the front window of our flat I can just make out the pigeon from above, but knowing he’s paralysed as well as sporting a nasty rump wound he’s not going far and won’t recover. He isn’t in obvious pain, but was frightened until we got him to his new hiding spot. He probably got bumped by a car. Poor thing. I know loads of birds get hit everyday wherever there are vehicles, but I still feel for the pigeon in the shrub. We got him to a safer spot and that’s about as much as we can do for him. Neil says he’ll likely end up fox food tonight. He’s probably right. That’s nature I guess. I expect more feathers in the car park tomorrow morning.
Update: Just went down to take him some bread. He’s already passed on.