Peace Be With You

Did you know that doves symbolize peace? Of course you did - that's why people release them at weddings and funerals. We had an encounter with one a few weeks ago that I have been told is blog-worthy, so I am now sharing our story.

We were on our way back from a Japanese Steakhouse (see Fortune Cookie) and pulled into the driveway when I noticed a big, white bird perched at the top of our front door. My first thought was that it looked out of place - we never see birds like this flying around the neighborhood. This had to be someone's pet. My second thought was that it kind of looked from that angle like the barn owl at the Chattanooga Zoo which is obviously a very crappy zoo if the most exotic animal they have there is a barn owl...

Once we had parked in the garage and hustled the kids into the house, I went out on the front porch to take a closer look at our little visitor. I was careful to be very quiet and slow so as not to spook him away from our stoop. Being that this was a few days before Thanksgiving, I was feeling especially sentimental and decided I need to help this bird out. It had flown to me for a reason, dammit, and I would not let it down. All the while, Mike was making comments about how it would make a lovely addition to our Thanksgiving feast. Feeling undeterred, I went inside and called a neighbor to see if she knew who might be missing their pet.

My neighbor was unaware of any neighbors who had a pet bird, but she did suggest sending out an email to all members of the neighborhood Ladies' Association in case someone was aware of an anxious family searching frantically for their bird. I even took some photos (in case there were multiple families with missing birds) so that someone might possibly recognize our little friend and help us get him safely home. All the while, Mike was wondering aloud why we didn't won a BB Gun and wondering who we could call at this hour who would have one. I paid him no attention. Fate had brought this bird to me. It was now my mission to get him back to his warm, safe home. After all, I'd want someone to extend the same courtesy to our dog Dudley if he was ever lost, right? So I viewed this as me simply paying it forward. I called animal control (trying to find someone who could provide food and shelter for the night) as well as the local Nature Center to see if it was their bird who had gone missing. Since it was after hours, I wasn't able to get anywhere with either agency, so the bird was going to have to sleep outside in the cold. Can you imagine? A bird having to sleep outside exposed to the elements!

That night and the next day, I received several calls and emails as well as several Facebook comments about this little guy but sadly, no owner stepped forward. I know nothing about birds (after all, I thought that the bird needed to get home because it wasn't safe for him to be outdoors). At first, I thought it was a cockatiel and was actually telling people that's what it was. Imagine my embarrassment when I was told that cockatiels are native to Australia and are actually parrots. I know what a parrot looks like, and this wasn't a parrot. I also had never heard the bird say anything like "g'day, mate", so I didn't think he was Australian. I had one neighbor who said that it looked like an albino pigeon. A pigeon? I'm doing all of this for a pigeon?! Who's the pigeon now?

The same neighbor who told me this was a pigeon also called him a dove. I didn't realize that a dove is a pigeon, but saying I was doing this for a beautiful, white dove sounded a lot more benevolent than going to these lengths for a stupid, dirty pigeon. This neighbor also happened to have a bird cage and told me that if we could catch it, he and his wife would take it to the local nature center for us. At this point, it had been 24 hours and the bird hadn't budged, which means - you guessed it - bird droppings all over the door and porch. All the while, Mike is threatening to shoo it away, but I again guilted him into inaction by reminding him we'd want someone else to take care of our Dudley.

Begrudgingly, Mike decided to appease me and try and catch the bird and hand him off to our neighbors with the cage. It just so happened that he had been at a meeting the second night we had our dove as a guest and at that meeting was a representative from Animal Control. He mentioned to her that we had someone's pet cockatiel perched at out front door and she volunteered to help us corral it. Imagine her disgust when she arrived at our house and saw not an Australian bird throwing shrimp on the barbie but a stupid, lost pigeon. She good-naturedly tried to help Mike catch it, but it spread it's beautiful, white wings and flew to a higher point on our roof - safely away from the door and from any human interaction, but also perfectly positioned to still be able to effectively defecate on our front stairs.

So, this was night two with the dove, it was going to be colder outside this night than the previous night, and now he was way too high for us to catch. I worried about my little friend. Worried that he would fly away and end up somewhere where no one would care about him. Worried that he was used to being indoors and would get cold in the night. Worried that he missed his owner or that his owner missed him. I filled a box with some towels and lay it on the front porch in case he needed warmth during the night. (Mike later explained that birds don't sleep on the ground, but complimented me on my valiant efforts anyway.) I wondered about his little birdie life. Where had he come from before he was placed in my charge? Who had he been? Was he released at someone's wedding? Was he a pet in a old lady's house where he sang to her while she knitted all day? Was he a carrier pigeon who had gotten lost on his way to deliver the Salahi's their invitation to the White House State Dinner? Where did he belong? And, would I be able to get him there?

On the third day, I awoke and did not see him right away. He was not at his new perch on the roof and had not come back to the front door. Later in the day, however, he returned to the front door and back where we had a chance at catching him. I have a neighbor who offered to come over with a fishing net to try and catch him for us. Unfortunately, Mike thought he had a better idea. Mike, who had had enough of all of this at this point, simply got Dudley's crate, got on a step ladder and climbed up until he was eyeball to teeny, tiny eyeball with the dove. He opened the crate and - best I can tell - expected the bird to simply get up, accept his fate, and waltz into the crate. Instead, the dove spread his beautiful, white wings again and moved to another point on the roof. By now Mike was furious with the bird and I was furious with Mike. If he had just waited for our neighbor, this could have all been over.

Day Four - Bird back at the door. Poop everywhere. Mike losing patience. Marriage crumbling due to the fact that I was neglecting Mike's wishes and still trying to save this God-forsaken fowl. But this time, Mike acquiesced and agreed to have our neighbor come over with his net and catch the bird. Which he did, in one fell swoop. He then transported the bird from his net to the cage and off he went. So the bird was saved! Drama over! But questions remained. Who was he? And how did he get here?

Well, he was identified as a White Homing Pigeon named Clarence (okay, his name wasn't Clarence, but I kinda felt like he needed a name for the purpose of this story). He had a tag on his leg that showed him as having originated in Beaver Falls, PA. My neighbor contacted the breeder in Beaver Falls and was given the name of the owner in Riceville, TN. The owner indicated that the he was being trained to be released at weddings and funerals and had become lost and disoriented on his first training flight when a hawk scared him. The bird was less than a year old and had been missing for about a month. He was very appreciative of us and of our neighbors' efforts in bringing him safely home.

So, there you have it. A Thanksgiving and perhaps even a Christmas miracle. I found a bird of peace and was able to bring about a peaceful resolution to his plight. I was given a duty and I accomplished it to the best of my ability. I still will glance out my front door to see if he's back and I get a little tear in the corner of my eye when I catch the sight of some of his droppings that remain on our porch. I think about Clarence, and I hope he's doing well. I am now ready to accept the next Christmas miracle that comes my way - only this time, I hope it's in the form of an Ann Taylor gift certificate.