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T forced its way through successive sheets of icy precipitation during the approach into the city. A sinking feeling filled me during the trip, intensifying as I made my way through the airport. I felt bitter over returning to the town where I had been raised, after residing on the opposite end of the world for what had felt like a an eternity.

After a few days, I went out to get a trim. My thoughts was miles away, back across an vast expanse of water, when I became aware of something hit the sidewalk. I glanced down to see a pigeon on its side, spatchcocked, and trembling.

The crash occurred just as children were emerging from the local primary school and so within minutes a little crowd of children had gathered, surrounded by their parents. This group of bemused faces looked down at the creature, uncertain what to do or say. The kids were more certain: “Dad, she needs hospital, can we call an animal ambulance?” I slipped off my jacket, crouched down and scooped the pigeon inside it. “It’s okay, love, the gentleman will look after her!” remarked one mother with a sense of relief. I had become the ambulance for this pigeon that had just landed abruptly, unintentionally, as I had a few days before.

I walked slowly home, arms ramrod straight, with the bird tucked safely inside the jacket.

Unbeknownst to me that my impromptu decision to medivac the bird (the name I chose for my patient) would direct me to a web of Mancunians devoting significant amounts of their time to provide not only ambulances for street birds but diagnostic imaging, convalescence, and even “avian physiotherapy”.

I retrieved a shoebox for Belinda, lined it with an old piece of cloth, and put her inside. Every 20 minutes or so, I’d lift the lid just long enough for us to awkwardly lock eyes.

Those instances of mutual bewilderment marked my hectic search for what to do next. I contacted friends for suggestions and one suggested trying social media, where, to my amazement, I stumbled upon a bird rehabilitation group, and put in a request to participate.

A Grassroots Network

Over 3,000-strong, the group follows an decentralized method: someone in Manchester stumbles across an injured pigeon, a urgent post is made, then a comment section “triage” follows. If the bird is considered in need of an X-ray, someone with a vet link can get it one; if it needs physio, a “rehabilitator” will step forward to look after the bird.

Rehabbers each have their own highly developed specialities, whether it’s setting broken wings or treating wounds. Their tremendous, combined effort for the pigeons of the city runs entirely on goodwill.

Belinda was rapidly assessed with neurological problems, likely a blow to the head, and assigned to a rehabber who would give pain relief and a program of careful physio. We never learned exactly what made her to plummet. I took up the role of pigeon ambulance once more, boarding the light rail across the city with Belinda in a shoebox on my lap so she could receive the attention she deserved.

A New Perspective

After stumbling across this underground pigeon “NHS”, I began to feel much more positive about being back in my hometown. I question any of the places I had lived in while away could claim anything comparable. It also dawned on me that this was not the first time I’d been involved in a pigeon rescue: almost 20 years earlier I’d seen one plummet from the sky into the schoolyard of my secondary school. Again, children gathered around the bird, but only one – my closest friend at the time – had the gall to rescue it and take it to security.

The individual has since passed away – one of four friends to lose their lives in the years before my exit from Manchester. I understood that this had been a significant factor of what had made returning home so hard.

Pigeons as Companions

Pigeons have a longstanding role as “companion” animals, especially in the certain regions. Laborers started to keep the birds because they gave them comfort and an excuse to stare at the sky between long shifts of darkness below. During the economic downturn, workers on the unemployment also found a distraction in pigeons, but keeping them was considered a sign of “idleness”.

Nowadays, pigeons are often written off as unintelligent, diseased or a annoyance. Before finding the rehab group, I had called a veterinarian, who told me: “if you bring it here, leave it in the car park and we’ll put it down.”

The bird? Not her. Although not expected to ever fly again , she has adapted to her newly land-based life with success in a volunteer’s home. Each happy sound, often elicited by her favourite food, frozen peas, feels like a example in adaptability and fortitude – and I am eternally thankful to her for showing me a different facet to the city I was familiar with.