Ugly Chicks??

When I discovered the nest, it already had eggs in it and I didn't have the heart to evict them. Besides, I never used that balcony and was kind of curious to see the process unfold. I'd never seen a baby pigeon before. Just the full grown pavement-pickers that waddle their way down sidewalks hoping for handouts.

It's true, baby pigeons are rarely seen. And I will tell you exactly why. They are very PG 13. The two fleshy, bulbous hatchlings on my balcony looked look like they belonged in a pair of tightie whities instead of a nest. Imagine seeing an old lady throwing bread crumbs to a flock of THOSE in the park! Appropriately enough, my pigeon-babies were quickly nicknamed: Scro and Tum. And despite their unaesthetic appearance, I was out snapping photos of them like I was a first-time grandparent (or an amateur adult filmmaker). And the parent birds didn't mind at all. I could have worn their nest as a hat and there wouldn't have been so much as a coo of protest.

By the way, I would not recommend any sort of pigeon nest accessorizing for the following reasons:

Pigeons don't make pretty nests.

Pigeons don't mind sleeping in their own poo. Or in maggots.

Pigeon nests smell. A lot.

Oh yeah, it's pretty disgusting, the entire deal. Every day as Scro and Tum got bigger, their nest got filthier and stinkier. And then one day I went out there to find the two of them snuggled up tightly against (well, their own poo, naturally, but also) a brand new egg! Apparently pigeons are the Octo-moms of the bird world. They'll just keep poppin' 'em out as long as they can. Knowing the egg was brand new and undeveloped, I plucked it from the nest and promptly christened the garbage chute. She got the point.

Not that my egg extraction did anything to hurry them up, mind you. Scro and Tum were absolute moochers. Most other birds leave their nests anywhere from 10 to 15 days after hatching. Pigeons are freeloaders. They like to fatten out a little, grow in those adult feathers, have food fed to them all day long, enjoy a little Playstation 3. Basically, milk the good life for all it's worth. 35 long days after they hatched, they finally decided to fly the coop.

Clean up was a bitch. And oh, did I mention I'm allergic to birds? One shovel, several garbage bags and a lot of cleaning product later - I promised myself I would never let my National Geographic curiousity override my common sense again.

All that was 2 years ago. Then last week, I noticed a robin hopping along my balcony. An adorable red-breasted, warbley-voiced foreteller of spring! Then I noticed she was weaving a little nest above my balcony light. All the trauma of the last bird birthin' came flooding back. So, I did the only thing I could do.

I let her stay.

I hope robins don't smell. Athough, I just wikipedia-ed them and their latin name is: TURDUS Migratorius! It's gonna be a long summer.