🔗 Share this article

Our aircraft forced its way through wall after wall of freezing rain during the approach into Manchester. A growing unease filled me during the journey, growing stronger as I shuffled through the airport. I felt bitter over having to be the city where I had been raised, after residing on the other side of the world for what had felt like a an eternity.

After a short while, I headed out to get a haircut. My attention was miles away, lingering over an ocean, when I was startled by something hit the ground. I looked down to see a rock dove on its wings, sprawled, and convulsing.

The impact happened just as kids were filing out from the local grade school and so within a short time a little crowd of little ones had formed, flanked by their mothers and fathers. This group of bemused faces stared down at the bird, uncertain what to do or say. The kids were more decisive: “Papa, she needs hospital, can we call an emergency service?” I slipped off my jacket, crouched down and picked up the pigeon inside it. “It’s okay, sweet, the nice man will take care of her!” exclaimed one mum with a audible relief. I had become the emergency transport for this pigeon that had just come down hard, against its will, as I had a short time earlier.

I trudged home, arms stiffly extended, with the bird curled up inside the jacket.

I had no idea that my on-the-spot decision to aid the bird (the name I chose for my avian patient) would guide me to a web of Mancunians sacrificing significant amounts of effort to provide not only rescue services for feral pigeons but scans, respite care, and even “pigeon physio”.

I retrieved a small container for Belinda, placed inside it with an old T-shirt, and put her inside. Every short while, I’d lift the lid just long enough for us to make brief contact.

Those moments of shared bewilderment interrupted my hectic search for what to do from there. I contacted friends for guidance and one suggested trying online groups, where, to my surprise, I discovered a Manchester Pigeon Rehab group, and submitted a request to join.

A Grassroots Network

Boasting thousands of members, the group operates on an decentralized method: someone in Manchester finds an ailing pigeon, a heartfelt post is created, then a comment section “assessment” follows. If the bird is deemed in need of an examination, someone with a veterinary contact can get it one; if it needs rehabilitation, a “rehabilitator” will offer to look after the bird.

Carers each have their own carefully cultivated expertise, whether it’s setting broken wings or cleaning wounds. Their tremendous, cooperative effort for the pigeons of the city is powered solely by volunteerism.

Belinda was rapidly assessed with neurological problems, likely a concussion, and assigned to a rehabber who would provide comfort and a regimen of careful physio. We never discovered exactly what made her to drop from above. I resumed the role of avian courier once more, boarding the streetcar across the city with Belinda in a container on my lap so she could obtain the care she required.

An Unexpected Lesson

After finding this hidden pigeon “NHS”, I began to feel much more positive about being back in my home town. I question any of the places I had resided in while away could claim anything comparable. 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 witnessed one fall from the sky into the grounds of my high school. Again, children gathered around the bird, but only one – my best friend at the time – had the courage to pick it up and take it to security.

The individual has since died – one of four friends to die in the years before my exit from Manchester. I realised that this had been a big part of what had made the return so painful.

Pigeons as Companions

Pigeons have a history as “emotional support” animals, especially in the North. Workers started to keep the birds because they gave them company and an opportunity to look up at the sky between long shifts of underground work. During the Depression, workers on the dole also found a distraction in pigeons, but keeping them was viewed as a sign of “despair”.

Nowadays, pigeons are often written off as simple, dirty or a pest. Before finding the rehab group, I had spoken to a vet, who told me: “if you bring the bird here, leave it in the lot and we’ll end its life.”

It? Not her. Although not expected to ever take to the skies , she has adapted to her newly earthbound life with aplomb in a volunteer’s spare bedroom. Each contented coo, often caused by her favourite treat, vegetables, feels like a example in resilience and fortitude – and I am always appreciative to her for unveiling for me a different facet to the city I thought I knew.