Challenges in training wild pigeon flocks, and some corollaries.

 Just a moment ago, I happened upon reflecting, internally, upon a crossroads of various thoughts. One of them was the impermeability of my Chinese side in me: I thought about this, within the contexts of life coaching affecting personality shifts, and, with regards to animal training, and the difficulties that are inherent in working with wild birds. It is, after all, a Chinese saying: 

A bird in hand is worth two in the bush.

 Affecting such a sort of change, in a wild bird, compared to the standard, hands-off, keep away nature of birds, yet, in urban society, and, hence, with pigeons and other city birds in Los Angeles, CA, USA, it's still a rare occurrence to encounter a bird (pigeon) that is malleable and resilient enough to get close enough to a human who is postured and positioned for potentially putting hands on the bird. Birds of this sort (city type) are well-familiarized, typically, with the gestures and habits of humans - for certain, there are bird lovers abound, who care to be gentle and loving to the birds, and, on the other hand, there are much more shocking gestures of humans and their animals of chasing after the birds, or, outright frightening the birds, such as: mindlessly, or out of frustration. 

A pigeon decoy.

It is my experience with animals capable of higher intelligence, which are capable of being trained, that, absent of an early nurturing environment of singular human care, beyond a certain point, in the creature's infancy, the mind of the animal is fairly malleable, in adjusting the lifetime degree and measure of trust that the creature has, towards the caretaker. A traumatic experience in the animal's nurturing environment circumstances will tend to shape the creature's general attitudes and level of trust, as well as trainability of the animal, over a lifetime. I thought about all of this, momentarily, while lamenting a broken relationship or two, that had happened to me, in life. I thought about things, such as could I have done something more? I reflected upon deeper contexts of the issue that I draw relevance, here, between my life, and the flocks of pigeons that I try to tame, here in downtown LA, (I work on two flocks, in general, lately) for my amusement, and for the amusement of others, hopefully, in the future. I thought about my mother, who is Chinese. She brought me up of a relatively rigid and disciplined sort; I ended up an early bloomer, in some contexts, such as in school, and in dating, compared to some of my peers. My recurrent thoughts 💭 of my mother, lately, (absent of speaking directly to her) are fairly astute; that is to say that there's little variance between what I remember of her, and what goes on, in my thoughts that include her, now, in terms of her personality. We were very close, in our upbringing. On the other hand, my father was a less patient disciplinarian, and the imaginative thoughts I experience of him, now, tend more towards confusion and caprice, and it's moreso troubling sorts of things that go on. Mind you, this is all referring to things that happen in my mind about them, when I'm by myself. 

I draw this comparison between my relationship with my parents and the birds that I take care of, because it's a sort of parenting, to take care of a flock of birds, such as these pigeons. I also think up my available models of behavioral conditioning and nurturing environment expertise possible, given my own experiences; I consider the expertise of others, as well, such as in instances where I've sat in on trained-animal shows and installations, such as the small-parrot aviary at the San Diego Wild Animal Park's (they've changed names, since I've been, apparently) walk-through aviary that they had, where hand-tame small parrots would land on patrons and drink nectar out of little cups that visitors could purchase. I wonder about the years-gone-on potential of these pigeons, somewhere down the line, and I think about what these birds could be capable of - some part group and social abilities training, and some part, some facet of the Wild Animal Park's walk-in, hand-feeding aviary experience, somehow, navigated through the lens of that the pigeons are just wild birds. I've seen, and experienced, some features of this sort of descriptive pigeons and parrots experience, up north, in Sacramento, where, as a child, I had a formative experience in feeding birds (pigeons) that would land on people who fed them, and take food out of their hands. 

(Some of) a flock of pigeons that I take care of, in town. One arrives, swooping down from the birds' ledge, while others eat their meal, and while one examines me, observing them.

Obviously, I get used to some of the birds, and there's some of them that I would miss, if they disappeared. This is on my mind, because Snooker, the resident Pakistani High Flyer of the local Library's flock, seems to have gone in an extended leave, over the past week, or so' which is uncharacteristic, although, on one hand, new birds showed up at the flock's ledge, where they hang out, all day, and, being a whitish breed of pigeon, Snooker was fairly unique. There's a new white pigeon, amongst the new birds, and I know of a flock, nearby enough, where there's a backup Pakistani High Flyer, so it's not a complete loss, if Snooker is truly gone for good, somehow (there was a pigeon hunter who visited the flock with a hawk, recently, although I think I saw Snooker after that). I'm mostly concerned about the breeding stock, and of the birds' individual psychology, in the case of the unique, white, or whitish pigeons, such as Snooker, or, in other cases, where the decorative features of some of the pigeons, which have developed, over years, could be lost, if the birds happen to be picked on, or picked out, for hunting purposes, particularly, although I don't own the birds, per se, I know, and people are generally free to do as they please amongst, or about, the birds. 

Snooker tends to disappear, though, here and there, I'd estimate, and since he had sired some young, or mated with females, at least (I'd witnessed him mate, once or twice), there's a possibility that his genetics will appear, soon, or, over years ("recessively," as it's known, in genetic terminology), once again, if he had gone missing, permanently. There's a chance that he's caring for some young, with his mate, for example, perhaps, since I'd seen him recently pair up with a female 🐑.

Anyways, what I thought had been unique conditioning rhetoric that occured, recently (yesterday), was that the birds had started to get used to me showing up, and I'd been favoring sweet, rich treats, such as peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with table syrup (now, I'm doing PB&J with marshmallow creme). Some of them start to anticipate being fed, and they'll swoop down, when I show up and sit on the ledge, and wait for their food (sometimes, they won't wait, though, and they creep up and steal a slice of bread, while I prepare their sandwiches. Inevitably, the slice falls down, on to he sidewalk, and some of the other birds, waiting below, begin to devour the bread slice, hungry creatures that they are). This time, though, the really cute thing that some of the birds did was that they followed me, after I was done feeding the flock, and I was headed over in to the library. There's a shady alcove, beneath the foliage, where some of the birds have started spending some time, to cool down, during the heat wave we'd been going through, in Southern California. So, several of the birds follow suit, and track me over to the new spot, which, I feel, is a good signal for optimism that these birds are trainable, despite being adult birds, most of them. There was a bird that had swollen ears, or an infection, of some sort, and he's doing better, lately, as well.