I Stepped On a Live Pigeon
He kind of looked like
this a-hole.
I think. It happened quickly.
Well, okay, I almost
stepped on a live pigeon, but it was a near miss. Last Sunday, I was out for a 14 mile training
run, and around mile 13, I was heading north on 83rd Avenue past our
Albertson’s, about to turn right and run through the neighborhood across the
street from us. A pigeon was cooing
around on the sidewalk just a foot to my left, and I started clapping my hands
and firmly saying “hey!” at him, to get him out of the way.
See, although I firmly believe pigeons are rats with wings,
they’re still animals, and thus, they deserve to know when a disgustingly
sweaty biped is hobbling slowly in their direction, on their turf, so they can
fly away unmolested. I’ve found that the
clapping and “hey!”ing generally alerts most animals to my presence,
particularly coyotes. Since I’m out
running before the sun comes up 3-4 days a week, I like to ensure I don’t
surprise any potential predators; the coyotes in our area don’t really want to
bother with humans, so if I give them enough notice that I’m coming, they
choose to relocate to a friendlier spot.
Anywhoo, the pigeon. After
the clapping/hollering, the pigeon took flight, achieving a maximum height of
around 3 feet before he came crashing down to the ground, directly in front of
my shoes. I did a quick hurdle over him
and continued on my way, imagining what that phone call would have been like to
Chris.
Me: “Hey honey?”
Chris: “Yeah hon?
What’s up? Is everything okay?”
Me: “Well, I think I
need to go back to the ER for another CT scan.
I hit my head on the ground.”
Chris: “While
running?”
Me: “Well, I stepped
on this pigeon…”
Maybe they give frequent visitor punch cards if you get so
many CT scans in a month.
Later!
Amy
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