Things I Hate About Pigeons

The way they bob their heads.

The way they look up at you with a terrified, wood-stupid expression as you approach.

The way they coo.

The way that the male pigeon circles around the female with his plumage expanded, cooing.

The way that the female invariably rejects him.

The way that he always becomes persistent thereafter, and continues circling.

The way that the baby pigeons grow to the size of their mothers, yet still hang around trying to get a free bite to eat.

The way that you can never kick one. They always launch themselves slightly outside the orbit of your boot at the last possible second.

The way that they hobble on their nubs.

The way that they perch on something above you, and then look down with the terrified, wood-stupid expression.

The way that they always take off in unison in a sudden frenzy of flapping.

The way that they share food by vomiting into each others' beaks.

The way that they pick on the least popular pigeon by standing on his back.

The way that they all descend on a single crumb at once.

The way that the crumb then makes its rounds through the whole group.

The way that they can't figure out how to break apart a piece of food too big to swallow, so they try to shake it into pieces. They look ridiculous doing it.

The way that they occasionally shit on me as I stand under the electrical wires.

The way that they all go for too few perches, and then battle over them, flapping around incessantly and letting loose a shower of feathers.

The way that they circle around on the sidewalk all day, looking for crumbs.

The way that they spend so much time not flying and being on the ground, when they're birds.

The way that they cautiously approach where you sit, circling back uncertainly.

The way that they refuse to eat my perfectly good grape.