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On a related note- I like when animals run away and hide as I walk past. You can pretend they're people and that you're a terrifying evil overlord, feared by all, the monster parents tell their kids will get them someday if they don't eat their vegetables. I like to think this, as all tremble with fear as I pass - even if they're just squirrels or small birds. I am the dark god to them, and they shall quake in terror at the thunder of my mighty footsteps.
Pigeons who bathe in fountains are rarely bothered. Pigeons who sleep in parks are left alone. Pigeons are frequently given hand-outs. They always have friends around. They lead lives homeless New Yorkers would be jealous of. They lead lives I'm sometimes jealous of.
They can fly.
Yay, pigeons. Rock on.
I slept on a park bench under a tree in Baltimore last spring. A pigeon crapped in my eye. In my fucking eye. Yeah, I fully expected to get some birdass-to-eye disease that would force me to wear an eyepatch or something, but I just wiped it off, grumbled, and nothing came of it. Huh. Turns out pigeon is poker slang for "a card, acquired in the draw, that greatly improves a hand or makes it a winner." Did not know that. You learn all sorts of weird word trivia when you use dictionary.com instead of spellcheck.