Inherited house-pigeon both pet, pest

By Bill Sconone: Guest Columnist

About eight years ago, when my wife’s cousin Sheila lived in Nevada, a pigeon decided to follow her brother home from fishing. No one thought too much of it until the dirty bird took up residence.

Sheila and her husband Hank traveled a lot and began to haul the dirty bird right along with them. Their new pet was content to be holed up in his cage while on the road, but had the run of whatever motel room they occupied.

The bird came to be known as Dufus. This was later changed to Dooters, which he goes by today.

About 18 months ago, Sheila and Hank moved to Hart, Texas. His health was failing and as he declined she became afflicted with Alzheimer’s disease. But they went on with their lives, all the time caring for Dooters.

Walking into their home must have been similar to being a cast member in Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds.” One could never tell when you might get swooped upon … or something else uponed.

Sheila became adept at following the dirty bird around with tissue in hand.

Hank passed away on Oct. 30. I decided to buy their house and move to Texas.

Little did I know that a dirty bird was one of the amenities.
We were kept pretty busy with our hyper dog and certainly didn’t need another pet. We decided to let Dooters be free on the screened-in patio during the day, but we put him in his cage during the night in my shop.

The inevitable had to happen. We went shopping one day and left the screen door open and away Dooters went.

My wife was distraught. I felt relieved that he was gone, but that relief didn’t last long. The next day, as we were backing out of the garage, there was Dooters, perched on the roof of our neighbor’s van.

We called to him and he came a-flyin’ and landed on our car.

I was able to drive the car into the garage and my wife closed the door. We had him trapped. With just a little coaxing, Dooters came close enough for me to grab him and get him back on the patio. That feat should put me in wifey’s good graces for a long time.

I’ll end this story with a question: Does anyone know someone in the market for a pigeon?

Bill Sconone (and his wife Patti) still lives in Clovis part time. Contact him at 762 1226.