Day 2: Fowl Mood

I woke up this morning and decided to check on Luci and Taz to see if they were still hanging out on the upper rail of the neighbor's fence.  To my delight, they were nowhere to be seen.  Ah, nothing like the sweet taste of success for a Monday morning breakfast.  

As I start to turn away from the window, the slightest of movements catches my eye.  Way down at the end of the crevasse, at the mouth of the demons' roost and on the other side of my goddam net, I see the eye of the devil himself staring back at me. 

"You have to be fuckin' kidding me!?!"  

How could this happen?  How was Luci able to circumnavigate my netting?  Did I somehow miss an opening somewhere when I installed the net?  My eyes quickly shift to the netting... just where was this unforgivable breach of security?  Everything appears to be tight and intact.  And then I see it.  Right where the netting covers the top of the parapet wall, at the spot where these winged demons enter the crevasse leading toward their lair of evil, they have cut a perfect ovular opening in my net.  

Round 2 to the birds...

Day 1: A Nemesis is Born

I installed pigeon netting completely blocking off our lightwell from the crevasse these vermin use to access their roost.  After doing so, I realized that I had blocked two of these winged beasts inside their roost area.  I started to spray them with water to get them to leave.  One of the pigeons simply flew straight out the opening at the top, as any self-respecting pigeon would do.  The other pigeon, now my arch nemesis in life, decided it would be best to walk directly into the jet of water for roughly six feet and then stop.  I have decided to name this pigeon Luci, which is short for Lucifer of course.  

When I continued to spray water at this demonic asshole of a bird to try to coerce him to go the other direction, he decided his best course of action was to fly directly into my netting, where he became lodged in a most precarious position.  As I was standing there looking at this (larger than expected) bird stuck in my pigeon netting, I wondered if I was going to have to take this angry bird out by hand.  Luckily he was able to release himself, but then he just went back to his roost.  After giving him some time to leave on his own accord, and realizing he never would, I went through this same process of spraying him only to have him fly into the net and get stuck again.  

It had taken me so much time to put up the net in a fashion I deemed necessary to stand the tests of time that I was pretty hesitant to take the net back down.  Alas, I determined that Luci was too stupid to fly out of the roost area on his own, so there really was no decision to make other than to open the net back up again.  Only once I opened it up, he wouldn’t leave.  But I had put too much time into this to turn back now.  Luci got lit up with a constant blast of water for approximately three minutes, at which time he finally jumped up out of the crevasse onto the bottom rail of the fence and then onto the small parapet wall of our lightwell.  Here's where I realized one of my worst nightmares: Luci starts flying, only he's having to flap his wings twice as fast as normal because he's completely water logged.  I get completely covered in pigeon water/mites/shit as I make a mad dash to dive back in through our bedroom window.  I ended up getting cut on my hand pretty good in the process (yes, the birds draw first blood).

After swallowing my pride (or was that vomit?), I realize that I've just experienced victory.  For the first time that day (and probably much longer), there are no pigeons in the roost.  Unable to celebrate for more than a fleeting moment, I grab my trusty staple gun and head back into the lightwell to close the netting back up.  I make sure everything is extra secure to eliminate any possibility that Luci & Co. could get back in.

Overwhelmed with a sense of accomplishment, I take off my battle uniform, grab myself a beer, and sit down to watch the end of the Giants game.  A couple hours later I decided to go back and check on the lightwell.  Luci and her buddy (who I've now decided to name Taz) have returned and are perched atop the upper rail of the neighbor's fence, surveying my handiwork.  From my extensive research on pigeons, I know that they are not easily convinced to abandon a roost once it has been established.  Nonetheless, I don't really care what these two winged hellions do so long as they are locked out of the roost.  

Tonight I sleep well...

The War Begins

I spent my Sunday in an epic 6-hour battle with a persistent pair of Columba Livias (Rock Pigeons) roosting under the neighboring deck abutting our lightwell.  These vermin not only make a constant cooing sound that drives me up the wall, but these ferocious fowl have rendered our lightwell in the foulest shape of all.  When I discovered the carcass of one of their forefathers wedged in the crevasse between the deck and our building, I conceded it was time for action.

This was not my first battle with these birds.  I’ve installed pigeon spikes and pigeon glue in all the recommended locations, only to have these rascals make a mockery of my handiwork.  But this time I entered battle with a newfound resolve that could not be defeated! (Or so I thought…)

What follows is a detailed account of my battle against these filthy birds.  As you'll see, I grossly misjudged the tenacity and fight in my foe.  Something tells me this war will not be won in short order...