On several occasions over the past few months, I’ve seen a hawk hanging around my neighborhood, circling overhead or sitting on a telephone pole. I don’t know if it’s the same hawk each time or various hawks just passing through. If the former, I hope it’s established permanent residence in the area and likes the taste of pigeon. We have far too many pigeons in the neighborhood.
“Too many,” in the case of pigeons, can best be defined as “more than zero.” I hate the little bastards. If Denver laws permitted it, I’d invest in an air rifle with which to dispatch them.
People sometimes refer to pigeons as “rats with wings.” It’s worse than that. They’re rats with wings and diarrhea.