"Nah, it's dead. Just throw it in the garbage." is the answer I got on the phone.
This morning I made a couple of phone calls to see if I could figure out what the right thing to do with the banded pigeon I photographed last night. I figured if this little guy was banded than someone might be hoping he was going to come home to them. I got the answer that the little guy was most likely a racing pigeon and that the local animal shelters and bird rehabs didn't have anything to do with the people who raced pigeons. I said "raised pigeons?" because I hadn't digested that there were people who raced pigeons, and the nice lady on the phone said "I know, I had to have that explained to me too." I still figured that someone might want their pigeon back, so I did a little internet research and found out that racing pigeons is big on Brooklyn. Since people race pigeons distances up to 500 miles, it would not be unreasonable that the pigeon I just photographed was from Brooklyn, which is about 20 something miles away as the pigeon flies. I did more internet research and I called the store owned by a big pigeon racer in Brooklyn, expecting someone to exclaim with joy that I had his prized pigeon, but that wasn't the answer I got.
It's odd because I am pretty indifferent about handling and photographing my subjects, while other people are disgusted at the mere thought of them. But hearing their stories? I'm not okay with that. I'm upset now. I'm angry at the callousness of the pigeon racing store employee who didn't even want to know what the color the bands are or even where exactly the pigeon was found. Now I'm going to bury the racing pigeon. I feel like the poor thing deserves better than some life where he was driven long distances from his home and released to see how fast he could find safety again. That doesn't sound like a wonderful kind of life to me. Imagine if I did that to bear bait!
I told you about the pregnant deer with the two bullet holes in the top of her head right? And how the cop proudly told me he did that to her? (okay after she was hit by a car) I feel like I am seeing a darker side to life than I choose to see every day.
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