On our return from walking the dogs yesterday morning, I was thrilled to see the Black Sparrowhawk swoop down in front of us where we feed the pigeons and then alight on the gatepost. As I took out my phone to take a photograph, He Who Can Fix Anything shooed the bird away, which caused a bit of a rift so early in the morning. He loves his pigeons, especially the ones who have some sort of disability. There is one he calls Hoppy that has an injured leg and lives close to the garage. When the door is open, Hoppy comes inside and they chat while Hoppy jumps into the bird food container and picks out the sunflower seeds. We haven't seen Hoppy for about a week now, and he is adamant that 'my' sparrowhawk has killed his bird. Oh dear! I fear that may be true. However, that's nature. Sparrowhawks go where the pigeons are, and we are feeding the pigeons (actually rock pigeons, which have bred extremely successfully due to the guaranteed food supply - we started off with about five and now there are thirty-five!), which naturally encourages the sparrowhawk to hunt in our driveway. He could never eat all the birds, certainly not at the rate they breed. So I maintain he is creating the circumstances, and I am just enjoying nature. That is the danger of becoming attached to animals I suppose. As long as you can't identify them and they remain just one of the flock, they can be prey for a raptor. He tries to compare it to a mountain lion coming down and killing Monty, our dog, but that is somewhat far-fetched!
So I'll just have to hope Hoppy is on a nest nearby or just moved to a different flock and will come back one day, or that another bird will come wandering in and out of the garage on a Sunday to keep him company.
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