Little Dove Isn't Going to Make It

Well, horror of horrors, there is a juvenile mourning dove with canker sore disease Trichomonas gallinae on his beak and the bigger it gets, the less he can pick up his food and the more he drops his food, the more contagious he becomes since the other birds who eat it may injest the parasite he is harbouring. So it seems this time I really do have to stop feeding them - especially that poor little, sick guy.

I may just leave the feeder I have cobbled together which is my own personal shot at pigeon-proof,  finch feeding.  It consists of bird cage, bird feeder inside and 4 inches of metal siding at the bottom so pigeons can't stick their big, fat heads in. They're so tenacious!  You can shoot rubber bands at them, hit them with the hose (the water from it), squirt them with waterguns and they return within a few seconds, that is, if they leave in the first place.  The logic of flying up fifteen stories to land on our terrace for a measly couple of pieces of birdseed when all of Manhattan's leftover food is overflowing from trashbins  below, remains incomprehensible to me and I hope to get to the bottom of it soon.  I did learn that the pigeons knock-off around 5:00 o'clock (and even earlier during DST) so I figure they must be heading for all the morsels thrown away by the rush hour commuters.

Since my initial encounter with a pigeon while visiting Times Square when I was a little kid, I have hated the things.  I distinctly remember standing in front of the George M. Cohan statue when a pigeon mistakenly landed on my fat, little, poney-tailed head while my parents shrieked that they wish they had a camera.  And I am still besieged by nature in New York City!