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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