I’m glad I’m a Pidge. It’s much easier hanging out, eating, pooping, chatting with my humans than being a human and having to deal with a fascist takeover and all of the hate from other humans.

Happy Wednesday and fu(k trump and his whole Reich.

My human had surgery on his hand. I decided to assist him with his physical therapy and do a pigeon foot massage complete with sharpened claws. I know he appreciated it.

Eventually I graciously forgave them. I’ll use them for perches for awhile before I ask for scritches again though. Mustn’t let them think they rule this roost after all.

They succeeded in cleaning everything in spite of my attacks. Then they left my space. But I was still big mad, so I attacked my bells to show them my displeasure. I do this anytime I’m mad and they’re ignoring me.

The humans cleaned out my house today. Sure it’s so much cleaner looking and smelling, but I had to punish them for encroaching on my territory. They opened the door to let me fly around the house as if I’d be fooled by that. But instead I bravely stood at the door and thwacked them with my wings.

My humans make fine perches, but I’m always in guard in case they try to give me scritches while I’m preening.

I settled in to my new flock pretty quickly. It was weird that they couldn’t fly, but they do make excellent perches for me to see the world.

I call my kennel my Pigeon Sanctuary. It is MY space and I defend it accordingly. But the humans often let me out to explore their domicile and they have spots near where they sit for me to chill near them and nap. #birdlife

My name is Pidge. I was rescued shortly after leaping from my nest in a school bus barn. Since I couldn’t really fly yet, I was hiding under one of the wheels on the bus. Fortunately the driver noticed me under there and tried to shoo me away.