olsen

I have a bird. He was standing in the street next to a kitten as big as he is when I came home. I stopped, caught him quite easily, and put him in the car with me and brought him home.

He's beautiful, but when I called the Ozzie wildlife bureau, they said it sounds like he's just a normal homing pidgeon. He has tags on his feet. They probably aren't lying, but I think they're missing something. He's a beautiful bird.

And I want him to live.



UPDATE !! !!
As you can see, Heaven is very much alive. He has moved in with me, and I gave him the bigger bedroom with the nicer bathroom.

I let him have a day to himself, and have taken him out to the courtyard for fresh air, under my supervision (first it was cats, then this morning, the other birds were teasing him. I kid you not! They were flapping around above him, while he looked longlingly through the gate.).

This evening he began the arduous process of teaching himself to fly, first bullying his way back inside the house I was trying to give him time out of, then jumping off the edge of my steps, as nervous as a bungee jumper (and just as clumsy, even with gravity on his side.)

I took him outside and held him up in the air so that he could launch himself from my waist-level....but that led to a nasty incident with a window he tried to use as a shortcut back to the stairs inside.

So I spent my evening watching from the couch as a feral creature hopped slowly up the steps and flapped back down, over and over.

Now it's past his bedtime, and he's upstairs in his bathroom.