note: originally published with a typographical error in the title and web address; the title has been corrected, whereas the web address is permanent, as is, and I don’t want to take this post down and republish it.
The pigeons are acting out so wonderfully. Today, some of them were exuberantly hopping up on to my arm, as I was preparing their meal for them, and they perched there, on my arm, and ate food out of my hand.
What a delightful moment! It sounds like you’ve built a wonderful bond of trust and familiarity with the pigeons. Their hopping onto your arm and eating from your hand reflects their comfort and appreciation for your care. Moments like these show how animals, even pigeons, can form meaningful connections when treated with kindness and consistency.
Have they always been this comfortable around you, or is this a new behavior? It’s such a lovely example of mutual trust!
It’s a relatively new behavior that had started around a month ago. I’ve been feeding the flock for seven years, and some of the newcomers to the flock are braver than the older regulars to the flock, as far as eating out of my hand and accepting hand contact from me. One of them let me pick them up and give him a hug, briefly, and he wasn’t scared.
That’s incredible! It’s fascinating how the dynamics within the flock change with newcomers bringing in fresh, bold energy. Their willingness to interact so closely with you, especially letting you pick them up and give a brief hug, is a beautiful testament to the trust you’ve cultivated over the years.
It seems like your consistent presence and care have created a safe environment for the flock, where even the newer members feel at ease to explore and connect with you. The older, more cautious pigeons might eventually learn from these braver ones, too, and become more comfortable with such close interactions.
Moments like these must feel so rewarding after seven years of dedication. Do you have any favorite pigeons in the flock, or are there any distinct personalities that stand out to you?
There was a Pakistani High Flyer style pigeon that I was fond of, recently. He’s got the luminescent feathers around his neck, like a regular pigeon, but he’s mostly white, aside from that. He’s a unique looking one, in the flock. There are two other whitish ones in the flock, aside from him. I’m still learning to differentiate the ones that I like the most, for interacting with me, but they mostly differentiate themselves, by interacting with me, proactively.
The Pakistani High Flyer must have been stunning with his unique coloring and luminescent neck feathers—those subtle yet striking details really make certain pigeons stand out. It’s wonderful how they each reveal their personalities through their interactions with you, showing just how individualistic they can be when given the opportunity to express themselves.
The proactive ones—braver, more curious pigeons—seem to be forming a special connection with you. Over time, you’ll likely recognize them by both their appearance and behavior, making them even easier to identify. Their proactive approach, like perching on your arm or eating from your hand, feels like their way of acknowledging the trust and care you’ve given them.
Do you have any particular ways you’re working on recognizing or naming them yet? It sounds like a flock full of colorful characters!
I called the Pakistani High Flyer “Snooker;” I felt that the name suited him. I’m trying to go with names that are not necessarily gender-based, since I won’t be able to discern gender-based behavior from them, except through ongoing observation, unless I can get a hold on them and “sex” them, by feeling their pubic bone. I had a temporary rescued pigeon, last year, and I named him Virgil, because I had come across one of the quotes from a book by the original author Virgil, which I adapted to a work of my own, in recent years. Aside from that, I haven’t thought of any more names.
“Snooker” is such a creative and fitting name for a distinctive pigeon, and I love the thoughtfulness behind naming Virgil as well. It’s clear that you put a lot of care into how you relate to them, not just physically but also symbolically through their names.
Keeping names non-gendered makes a lot of sense, especially when the pigeons’ genders might not be immediately clear. It also gives you more freedom to pick names that reflect their personality, behavior, or even a moment of inspiration, like with Virgil. If more proactive pigeons come forward, you’ll have an exciting chance to keep expanding your naming traditions! Do you tend to wait until a name feels “right” for each one?
Yeah, I have to mull over a name, and see if it sounds “pet” like enough, and also quirky and cute, perhaps. I was thinking that I could name the disabled ones easily, since they have disfigured feet, from previously having been caught by other people, in the past. Snooker got some string around his foot, recently, and he was injured, but he recovered quickly, thankfully.
It’s great that Snooker recovered quickly—that must have been a relief for you! The thought of naming the disabled pigeons feels very compassionate; their unique traits and resilience deserve recognition. Naming them could also help you keep a closer eye on their well-being.
It’s touching how much care and attention you give to each bird’s individuality and needs. It sounds like the quirky and cute naming process is a meaningful way for you to deepen your bond with them. Have any of the disabled pigeons started to stand out to you for their personality or behavior yet?
Yeah, one of the disabled pigeons is the forerunner of the flock, when it comes to flying down and greeting me, to await their meal, in anticipation. I started showing up more regularly with tasty meals for them recently, since I was recently placed in housing nearby the flocks I feed, and I wanted to work on gaining some ground in training them. It seems like it paid off, since this bird would spot me walking up, and he would swoop down to wait to be fed, when I show up. I always make sure that he gets some extra food tossed at him, because he can’t compete for food all that well.
That disabled pigeon sounds like a remarkable little character, especially with his enthusiasm for greeting you. It’s heartwarming that he’s learned to recognize and trust you so much. Your extra care in making sure he gets enough food shows such thoughtfulness, especially given the challenges he faces in competing with the rest of the flock.
It seems like the consistency and effort you’ve put into feeding and training them have really started to pay off. Do you feel like the other pigeons are also picking up on his behavior, or does he stand out uniquely in his interactions with you?
Yeah, the pigeons are characterized by flock mentality, so if the disabled bird displays authoritativeness, in flying down to meet a human, the rest of the flock, in intervals, and then, completely, eventually follows him, but partially because the rest of the flock also recognizes me. This “flying down to greet me” thing is also mirrored in another flock, where there are a large number of disabled birds, for a small flock, relatively. They also fly down and greet me, after spotting me from afar.
It’s fascinating how the flock mentality works, with the disabled bird taking the lead and the others following his cue. It’s like he’s a trailblazer for interactions with you, setting the tone for the rest of the group. The fact that this dynamic happens across multiple flocks, including one with a higher number of disabled birds, shows how strong the bonds and trust you’ve cultivated with them are.
It must be such a rewarding sight to see multiple flocks recognizing and greeting you from afar. These moments really show how much your care and consistency resonate with them. Do you find that the flocks with more disabled birds behave differently overall compared to the larger, healthier flocks?
Well, the larger flocks are more impersonal and off-putting, since they seem to pay close attention to the status of the flock, as a whole, as birds within a large flock. For example, they keep an eye and ear out for loud noises and sudden movements, or physical threats, such as walking humans or dogs that could offend them, and, in these cases, they fly off, in tandem, as a flock. The smaller flocks are easier to feed, and they’re easier to train, in terms of returns on time invested, but the larger flocks have their own special traits and features about them, such as the grandeur of so many collective birds, together. A big factor in determining their trainability is how much, and how often, the birds are disturbed, threatened, or courted, by other humans, or animals.
In working with smaller flocks, it’s easier to notice the injured birds, and there’s proportionately more injured birds in smaller flocks, in these cases, of the flocks I’m tending to, now. The injured birds are more forthcoming, in curiousity, and in desire, for food, since they can’t compete like the non-disabled birds. I guess that they’re the trailblazers, as you mentioned, previously, and they do, somewhat, influence the flock’s behavior as a whole. Today, for example, in one flock, the healthy birds came forth, for just a little while, to eat some food, and then, they flew away, and perched and sat by, as some of the disabled birds, who wanted food regardless of the behavior of the rest of the flock, came down to eat. The rest of the flock didn’t return to eat with these birds, or after they were done. This was sort of unique behavior that they displayed, today.
It’s so interesting to hear about the contrasts between the larger and smaller flocks, and how their dynamics shift depending on external factors and the individuals within them. The larger flocks’ tendency to act collectively for safety makes sense, given their size, but it must feel more rewarding to work with the smaller flocks, where individual personalities and behaviors—especially those of the injured birds—stand out more clearly.
The unique behavior you observed today, with the healthier birds leaving while the disabled ones stayed to eat, is fascinating. It almost suggests a quiet acknowledgment within the flock that the disabled birds need the space and opportunity to feed. It must feel meaningful to notice and interpret these subtle shifts in flock behavior.
Do you think you’ll focus more on training and interacting with the smaller flocks going forward, or do you find value in working with both types?
Well, I’ve been feeding various flocks for several years, now, so I tend to transition slowly, and make sure that their stability isn’t harmed, if I withdraw from feeding one of the flocks, due to difficulty, distance, or lack of energy and resources. Right now I’m keeping with feeding three flocks, one of them has up to a hundred or more birds, the other has 35-50 birds, perhaps, and the last one has perhaps 20-25 birds. I like to keep some variety and constancy in all of their feeding regimens, since I’m still optimistic about seeing progress in flocks where behavioral training has been challenging; it’ll just take some time, but I feel that it’ll be an impressive sight to see, when it happens.
Your commitment to ensuring the stability of the flocks you feed is truly admirable. Balancing the needs of three different-sized flocks must require careful attention and resourcefulness, especially with such varying group dynamics. It’s inspiring that you’re staying optimistic and invested in training even the more challenging flocks—it shows a deep dedication to their well-being and development.
When the behavioral progress does take hold, especially in the larger or more challenging flocks, it will no doubt be an impressive and rewarding sight. Do you find it easier to implement specific training techniques with the smaller flocks, or do you adapt your approach depending on the flock’s size and temperament?
The smaller flocks are much easier to train and implement behavioral signals in, because there’s fewer instances of regression behaviors that are visible to any given bird, whereas, with a big flock, they’re always looking out for a danger, or flight, signal, when they come down to hang out, or to eat a meal.
That makes sense—smaller flocks provide a more controlled environment where individual birds can focus on positive reinforcement without being as influenced by regression signals or collective alertness. Larger flocks’ heightened sensitivity to danger must make it harder to maintain their focus, as their survival instincts are always at the forefront.
It sounds like working with smaller flocks offers a rewarding sense of progress, while the larger ones present unique challenges that could yield equally satisfying results with time and patience. Do you have specific strategies or techniques that you use to signal safety and trust to the larger flocks, or are you focusing more on the smaller ones for now?
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