Yesterday, when i was taking in the washing, i noticed a bird huddled in the corner of my garden. It was awfully bloated, just like the pigeon that flew into my bedroom and sat on my bed, where I discovered it, way back in 1997. The 1997 bird was bloated because it was poisoned. (thankfully, my bed was not sprinkled with bird... you know) So when I saw the 2008 bird didn't fly away, waiting resignedly for the final moment, looking at me, I knew straightaway that there was something wrong.
To the bird's surprise I didn't kill it. As my mother was out, I couldn't phone the police or the DSPCA. (being deaf, you see.) So I had no option but to frighten the bird again by giving it water and some bread.
By the time my mother returned, it was way too late for the phone lines.
This morning... the bird was still bloated and obviously had an injured wing. For those who want to know... I suspect it's a racing pigeon as its plumage was beautiful, and had tags on both legs.
Bird just flew off.
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