Like so many others, the baby king pigeon I named Jimmy was raised for squab, sold by a live poultry market and “released” by someone either trying to help him or ceremonially at Dolores Park. Amazingly he survived the many perils of being in the wild (hawks, ravens, gulls, dogs, cats, mean people, etc.) long enough to get picked up by Animal Control. He arrived at the animal shelter on 9/8 and unfortunately his care somehow fell through the cracks. Usually the shelter is good about catching problems and notifying us but young Jimmy wasn’t eating (likely too young to self-feed) and by the time I accidentally discovered him on 9/14, he was extremely emaciated, weak and pooping blood. Shelter staff were surprised and concerned. I immediately pulled him and another sick fledgling (Tex) into MickaCoo’s care.
I wasn’t sure if Jimmy would survive the trip home but he did. And he did something that I’ve never had another do- he plunged his head into a dish of baby bird gruel that I was preparing and fed himself before I could. This poor baby wanted to live. He was warmed and hydrated and fed hourly small, watery meals and he was comforted by the company of (the much stronger) Tex. He held on for two days but his ordeal had been too much and he died in my arms on 9/16.
Tex recovered from the canker and respiratory infection and transitioned outside to the aviary. He was bold as a youngster and is absolutely fierce now that he is growing up. He’s big and healthy and needs a forever home.