Well now, if you've read my first Pigeon Post you might be wondering what became of said pigeon. And if you are familiar with the real Pigeon Post (as you know we certainly are), then you might know of the threats of a certain Squashy Hat...
Friday proved to be quite a dreary, rainy day. We spotted the pigeon on our house when we got home in the morning after church, but then we didn't see it for quite some time. The girls went outside occasionally to see if it was around, but no success. Finally, in the early afternoon as I was reading to the little girls in the sunroom, I suddenly saw a flash of white. I stood up to get a better look out the windows and I announced, "The pigeon has just flown in!" And indeed it had, landing right in our back yard.
And then my brain was confused as I saw another brown head on a brown bird on top of the white one... and realization gradually dawned and I declared,
"A hawk has got the pigeon."
"A hawk has got the pigeon!"
Followed by a grievous, "Oooohhhhh..." And I was sickened at the thought that we were about to witness our friendly pigeon turn into a messy lunch...
And then suddenly something shifted just slightly but I saw movement and realization dawned again and I shouted,
"It's still alive!"
And then my poor befuddled brain made its final seemingly brilliant interpretive analysis and I yelled,
"We have to save the pigeon!"
And I went screaming out of the house with Lydia and Anna shrieking and running, arms waving, right behind me, "Save the pigeon!"
And the commotion successfully startled the Cooper's hawk into releasing its prey.
We watched incredulously as the beautiful white flapping took off immediately in its customary circular flight, and the brown flash went off in the opposite direction to the woods.
We saw the pigeon fly past a few houses and then it was out of sight, and we went running up the street after it in disbelief trying to no avail to follow it. All's we saw was a hawk flying around up the street, but no sign of the pigeon.
The girls went out on numerous occasions throughout the day, calling and looking for their pigeon friend. It was pouring heavily at times, but the rain didn't stop them. They searched and searched.
Moods were somber throughout the rest of the day as we saw no more of the pigeon. I speculated that perhaps the hawk attack 'spooked' the pigeon enough to make it want to fly back to its proper home. But we all knew that perhaps the hawk was only temporarily thwarted and had found and finished off his intended prey. Or perhaps the pigeon was wounded and hiding somewhere, where it would be end up as dinner for a wandering cat instead of lunch for a hawk. Time and time again my disappointed, soggy girls returned home without a clue.
Bedtime, folks! To be continued...