# The Fooster Files



## Pigeontastic (May 23, 2005)

This thread is the log of Fooster, the wild feral who got himself into trouble and found me. I'll be updating this thread with daily play-by-play happenings on our mutual journey towards the cohabitation frontier.

Replies are welcome; suggestions and recommendations especially!


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## Pigeontastic (May 23, 2005)

*Day 1*

Day 1 (Thursday, June 9 2005):
Finished with errands in town and waiting for Bus at around 5pm. Afternoons in Galway are vicious with the traffic so I head over to Bazaar across from the bus stop to have a 1/2 pint of beer.

Walking back to wait for the bus I spot an unusual sight. There's a pigeon huddled in a corner in the doorway of an emergency exit from Jury's Hotel's Bar where I wait to see the bus coming down the road before crossing over to the stop. I toss a little seed (just bought for the SPF - Salthill Pigeon Flock) toward this cowering pigeon which, to my surprise, startles him into stumbling away down 4 steps and around inside the adjoining car park.

I follow him into a dead-end handicapped space just inside the entrance. Ignoring the dramatic irony, I toss some more seeds down - just in case - and as I leave to get a box, I catch a glimpse of him pick at few of them. I take that as a good sign that this bird, however damaged, hasn't lost his basic pigeon-ness.

As the bus pulls away I make my way to a familiar nearby restaurant where I work part time and phone my wife to sound the alarm. I grab a cardboard box and head back to the car park to find pigeonface in the next set of spaces behind some parked cars. I try to corner him and lose him under one of the cars.

People going to and from their cars eye me suspiciously, so I try to act casual and walk around a bit with the box, which must look even more shady... or rediculous... whatever; I am determined. I haven't met anyone here who thinks kindly of pigeons, even in the pet shops where I buy seeds for them, so it's no use trying to explain myself.

I finally find the featherball and get the box around him without much difficulty; just in time to catch the next bus home.

With little knowledge of pigeons and their diseases, I bring him home to our third floor apartment and put his box on the rooftop patio in the back where I feed the SPF ruffians. I then converted a filebox into a safehouse and put him in it, with a lid. I proceed to get on pigeon-talk where I have been lurking for a couple weeks and post my emergency dilemma. The excellent responses (from JGregg, John_D, cyro51, Lin_Hansen & pdpbison) were swift and decisive. My concerns about hygeine and disease were duly belied and that really saved his life.

The Missus and I, now semi-educated, bring him in and warm him up and go about our 3rd anniversary with a bit more research on what to do with our new guest. After a glass of champaign, we muster up the courage to bandage him and eyedropper him some rehydrating water. After a bout of nerve-wracking fussing (and grunting) about our extremely careful bandaging session, he remains considerably devoid of any will to live. We force the rehydrating water on him by opening his beak and feeding him one drop at a time.

We then put him in his cozy converted filebox with all mod cons ('all modern conveniences' to you non-Eurotwinks in North America who don't know how good you have it  ) including rehydrating solution, wild bird seeds, a fresh newspaper lining and a white dishrag bedding.

He doesn't eat any supper and we're too emotionally exhausted to try to get him to eat. He's likely still in a good deal of shock, but safe from further harm. We fondly name him Fooster because of the wealth of meaning and spinoffs the name bestows.

He was quite a wreck when I found him. Feathers missing off of the middle of his back and left elbow (the joint between humerus and ulna/radius). Luckily there were no cuts or evidence of bleeding. My first instinct was that he was hit by a car because I have seen it happen in that area to a Black-headed Gull and I always see the rather tame SAF (Spanish Arch Flock) getting quite close to danger. I've also seen the gulls attack pigeons and chase herons. They know better than to mess with the swans. The local dogs are afraid of the swans.

At any rate, it seems like a case of more shock than injury. The optimism is there but we go to bed worried all the same.


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## Feefo (Feb 8, 2002)

I love it!


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