Here's a story I forgot to tell... the pigeon that I found on Friday night. It was late, around 10 or so, and we were headed out to go clubbing. In our building parking lot, there was this pigeon just lying there, not moving. I went up to it, and noticed that it was still alive, but hurt. We tried to move it, but it got all agitated and was flapping around, and couldn't take off. We picked it up, and hid it in the grass right by. We came home a few hours later, and I was concerned about his well-being. I mean, no living being (other than mean, rude, nasty people) deserves to suffer that way. I didn't want him to get eaten by a raccoon or have a crow pick his eyes out! I convinced my boyfriend to help me do this, so we found a box, put the bird in it, and put him in my trunk. I called the by-law services,and they gave me the number for a wild bird care centre. Saturday morning, I checked on Pidgey, and he was still alive and strong. I called the centre, to let them know we were coming, then we went over and dropped him off. The lady there said he could survive, and told me to call back in 2 days to see how he was doing. I'll keep you posted on this, but what was the best part of this, was hearing Pidgey talk to me on my way out of the centre. As I was leaving, he let out a little "proo", which I'm sure, is his way of saying "thank you".

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