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T pushed through successive sheets of freezing rain as it landed into its destination. A growing unease had accompanied me during the flight, only deepening as I made my way through the airport. I was unhappy about having to be the place where I had spent my youth, after residing on the opposite end of the world for what had felt like a an eternity.

After a few days, I went out to get a my hair cut. My mind was distant, focused on an sea, when I became aware of something strike the ground. I gazed down to see a rock dove on its wings, sprawled, and twitching.

The fall happened just as schoolchildren were streaming out from the local elementary school and so within a short time a little crowd of youngsters had assembled, accompanied by their mums and dads. This group of puzzled faces stared down at the pigeon, unsure what to do or say. The kids were more decisive: “Dad, she needs hospital, can we call an ambulance?” I removed my coat, bent down and picked up the pigeon inside it. “No problem, dear, the gentleman will look after her!” remarked one mum with a audible relief. I had become the emergency transport for this pigeon that had just fallen suddenly, involuntarily, as I had a couple of days prior.

I walked slowly home, arms held out, with the bird tucked safely inside the coat.

Unbeknownst to me that my on-the-spot decision to rescue Belinda (the name I bestowed upon my new friend) would direct me to a network of local residents giving up significant amounts of their time to provide not only rescue services for city pigeons but diagnostic imaging, recovery care, and even “avian physiotherapy”.

I located a small container for Belinda, prepared it with an old T-shirt, and put her inside. Every short while, I’d lift the lid just long enough for us to share a momentary glance.

Those periods of shared bewilderment punctuated my frantic search for what to do after that. I phoned friends for guidance and one recommended trying social media, where, to my astonishment, I stumbled upon a Manchester Pigeon Rehab group, and sent a request to join.

An Anarchic Model

Over 3,000-strong, the group follows an decentralized system: someone in Manchester discovers an ailing pigeon, a pleading post is published, then a comment section “triage” ensues. If the bird is considered in need of an examination, someone with a connection to a clinic can get it one; if it needs physio, a “carer” will offer to foster the bird.

Volunteers each have their own finely honed skills, whether it’s mending broken wings or cleaning wounds. Their tremendous, combined effort for the pigeons of the city depends completely on volunteerism.

Belinda was promptly diagnosed with neurological problems, likely a head injury, and matched with a rehabber who would administer pain relief and a regimen of patient physio. We never found out exactly what made her to plummet. I took up the role of pigeon ambulance once more, taking the light rail across the city with Belinda in a box on my lap so she could get the attention she needed.

An Unexpected Lesson

After finding this underground pigeon “health service”, I began to feel much better about being back in my hometown. I am skeptical any of the places I had resided in while away could boast anything remotely similar. It also dawned on me that this was not the first time I’d been part of a pigeon recovery: almost 20 years earlier I’d seen one plummet from the sky into the schoolyard of my old school. Again, children circled the bird, but only one – my closest friend at the time – had the nerve to pick it up and take it to security.

The aforementioned friend has since passed away – one of a number of companions to pass away in the years before my leaving from Manchester. I came to see that this had been a significant factor of what had made the return so difficult.

Pigeons as Companions

Pigeons have a longstanding role as “emotional support” animals, especially in the certain regions. Miners started to care for the birds because they gave them comfort and an reason to gaze up at the sky between long shifts of darkness below. During the Depression, workers on the unemployment also found solace in pigeons, but keeping them was considered a sign of “social malaise”.

Nowadays, pigeons are often disparaged as stupid, diseased or a annoyance. Before finding the rehab group, I had spoken to a animal doctor, who told me: “if you bring that here, leave that in the parking lot and we’ll end its life.”

It? Not this bird. Although not expected to ever soar , she has taken to her newly land-based life with aplomb in a volunteer’s extra room. Each contented coo, often elicited by her favourite food, vegetables, feels like a lesson in adaptability and fortitude – and I am eternally thankful to her for unveiling for me a different facet to the city I was familiar with.