Right, that’s enough talk about the weather.
Regular readers will be aware of me using my blog to rant and rave and moan about the pigeons shitting on my car, on numerous occasions.
Both of you may even remember me saying that if I had half a chance, I’d kill the little blighters.
On Saturday, I took my car up to the local car wash so that they could use their high-powered jet wash on all the bird crap that was covering my car. The sods crap on it daily as they fly into the tree, and after just a couple of days, there is a right mess.
And in this warm weather, it dries out and goes hard and is bloody difficult to get off with a sponge and warm water.
So, I got it cleaned and parked it on the drive, all shiny and gleaming.
A perfect target.
Two hours later, I went out to get something out of the boot and there was this enormous green and white bird poo – still wet – sliding down the side of the car.
I was bloody annoyed. Incensed. Bubbling with anger. “Grrr”, I said.
I got some wet paper towels and cleaned it off, all the time muttering to myself about the bloody pigeons and how I was gonna kill one and nail it to the tree as a warning to other pigeons.
As I walked through the gate, into the back garden, there was a pigeon, just standing on the path, outside the back door, just a few feet away from me.
I swung a kick at it, not really expecting to connect. And I didn’t. But rather than it flying off, as I’d expected, it sort of hopped and flapped it’s way down the garden path, obviously injured somehow. I gave chase and soon had it cornered between the garage and the shed.
This was my chance!
But I couldn’t do it.
If it had been in the tree and I’d had an air rifle or an AK47 or something, I am 100% sure that I’d have had no qualms about ending it.
But, kicking it to death with my slippered feet, as it just lay there looking terrified? I couldn’t do it.
So, instead, I gave it a damn good talking to.
It continued to just lay there, its chest rapidly rising and falling in terror; unable to escape, as I gave it a verbal dressing down.
“.. and if you and your mates carry on shitting on my car, I won’t be so fucking lenient next time!”
That was four days ago.
Unbelievably, my car is still clean.