Spatchcock!

In what circumstances might one find a grown man appearing to kick a pigeon across a busy main road? What would your reaction be to such a sight? Would you intervene?

It's certainly behaviour consistent with a mental patient on day release.

Unfortunately, this was the pickle I found myself in at about half past five today. As you know, pigeons are everywhere in cities. Some are lovely looking creatures, like the chap pictured in the post below. Others are scabby beyond belief, defying nature itself to somehow exist as dishevelled, flea bitten mono-pods. The pigeon in question certainly had the look of one who had been through the wars. It wandered about around the pavement in front of me, before following me to the edge of the kerb as I crossed a side street. On closer inspection, I decided I couldn't tell if it was a juvenile or just malnourished. Not that I know what a juvenile pigeon looks like right enough........ As I walked on, I turned back to see it amble aimlessly into St Georges Road, attempting to use it's wings, but unable to get off the ground. A row of cars came out of the Charing Cross junction and I hoped one of them would catch it with a wheel, finish the job, nice and quick.............

Instead, the unfortunate creature just went under the chassis, between the axles of the car. The gust of air as the car passed blew it over, and for a second I thought it had been caught, maybe by the exhaust pipe or something, but it seemed to right itself and got into a huddled position, waiting for it's next brush with death. A few more cars went over the beast without hitting it. One driver even had the reflexes to swerve and avoid it..................

I had made my mind up. An ad-hoc rescue attempt would be made, just as long as I didn't have to pick the pitiful specemin up.

..............and so, this was why, at half past five on a Tuesday evening, I could be found, so it appeared to any onlookers, to be kicking a recalcitrant pigeon across St Georges Road.

I sort of shoo-ed it across into the gutter of the pavement at the other side of the road, and there it lay, as if exhausted by it's experience, and looking to be in no mood to go anywhere.

I have no illusions, it'll be dead by now. Either through starvation, fatigue or as the title of this post suggests, flattened to fuck after attempting to re-cross the road. I just couldn't, for reasons of utter feeble minded sentimentality, leave it hanging there, maybe getting clipped and bounced around the road for half an hour before something came along and struck it a final, fatal blow.

A rational re-evaluation tells me I should have left it to it's own devices. Nature gave this particular creature the middle finger, theres no reason to believe that it would have found many more favours once I'd walked away. That said, theres nothing wrong with being a silly sod once in a while....................