My Pigeon Story - How It All Began

My name is Michael P. Exchange. I am 46 years old and am retired from he U.S. Army since June 1989. I am located in the Republic of South Korea. I work in a small military library on Camp Casey, located in Tongduchon, Korea. I used to raise wild pigeons I took from nests I found as a kid in Portland, Maine. I have never actually raised my own birds prior to the events outlined in my pigeon story, which is about to begin. I hope you enjoy reading it, as I have enjoyed (for the most part) living it. Now I only have a pair of white Fantails. I started two years ago with only one racing homer (not mine), went to seven homer/feral mixes, and ended up with the two fantails in my room offbase. I think it's a good story, but it is a little long, and it's also completely true. While walking past the recreation center on Camp Casey, I spotted a lone pigeon walking around the building next door. During the many years I was at Camp Casey, I had never seen a pigeon on the ground, and only a few in the air. As I walked towards this bird, it did not fly or even appear to notice my approach. I walked right up to it and picked it up. Then I noticed a yellow band on its leg which said "KOR 93 18158". I took the bird to my office, which is located in a somewhat off the beaten path area. I placed it in a wooden box in a backroom. For the rest of the day I tried feeding him various seeds, grain and whatever I could think of. He refused everything offered, until I tried some canned whole kernel corn. He then ate all the corn offered him. The next morning I let him out of the box. He walked through the office and out into the front yard. He stayed in that general area all day, eating nothing but whole kernel canned corn (Del Monte's) and dandelion greens. When it was time for me to go home, I walked him through the office to the back room and placed him in the box. After three days, he returned to his box at the same time each day on his own. I kept that pigeon (I named him Henry) for exactly three weeks. During the first two weeks he never even attempted to fly. The few times it rained, he would go outside in the morning, realize that it was raining, and return to the door. He would sit on the threshold, wings and tail drooping to the floor. It was obvious that Henry was disappointed about the rain. Even when customers came through the door, Henry refused to leave the door. After two weeks he started showing an increasing interest in flying. At first he would fly a little further each time he left the box in the morning, and upon returning in the evening he would fly just a little bit further to get to his box. By the end of the third week, Henry was flying around the immediate area. One day, late in the afternoon, Henry took off. For the first time in three weeks, there was no sign of the bird. Two hours later he returned. The next morning, when he came out of his box, he stopped on a chair back half way through the office. He stood on the chair and looked at me in a way that he had not done before. Somehow I knew that this was his last day with me. I said "Goodbye, Henry." He then flew out the door and was gone. He never came back. I don't know why Henry did not fly for two weeks. He did not appear sick. He had no visible injury. Whatever caused Henry's temporary grounding, I'll never know. But I am glad that it was I who found him, because the three weeks he was in my care convinced me that I wanted pigeons of my own. One footnote. Henry ate all the dandelion greens in the area, leaving only the center veins sticking up through the grass. About a month after Henry left my area, my landlord located a place where I might be able to buy a pair of racing homers. He is Korean and speaks only some English, so when we went to Uijongbu City to see about buying the birds, he did the translation. The old man we talked to made it clear that he did not want to sell any birds. No problem. As we were leaving, I asked my landlord to ask the old man if one of his birds had been missing for about three weeks and returned about a month ago. I had already told my landlord about Henry, so when the old man asked him how I knew about his missing bird, my landlord explained the story to him. The old man obviously did not believe the story and appeared somewhat upset that we had the nerve to make up such a story to get him to sell two birds. While the old man and my landlord were bickering, I interrupted and asked to be allowed to see his coop so that I may try to show him which bird was Henry. So we went to the coop. Inside, there were about sixty birds and at least half of them looked exactly like Henry. The old man threw some grain onto the floor to get all the birds from the boxes to the floor. How could I pick Henry out from this crowd? I was not sure that Henry was even in this flock. Then I remembered that every time I fed Henry for the three weeks I had him, I called out his name. So I said "Henry" using the same tone I used before. Immediately, one bird stopped eating, stood up tall, and looked right at me. A moment later, this bird walked away from the other birds and came right up to my feet. I was freaking out. I knew this was Henry. I looked over at the old man, who was just looking at this bird by my feet. I asked my landlord to tell the old man to look at the pigeon's leg band, which he did. As he looked at the band, I said "18518", which I remembered was the band number. A look of complete disbelief came over him, then he started smiling and talking. He explained to my landlord that this bird was one of his fastest fliers, and that he could not believe that an American on a military camp took care of his bird and let it return home. All in all, it was a very good moment for Korean-American relations. He then agreed not to sell, but to give me any birds I wanted. Since I had no coop at that time, I told him I wanted only two, but they must be too young to fly, about 2-1/2 to 3 weeks old. At that time he had no birds in that age group, so he told me to come back in two weeks and he would have some then. I said thank you and left. Two weeks later, my landlord came to my room with the two young pigeons. They were not very pretty, but they were homing pigeons and they were free. I brought them to my office on Camp Casey the next morning. As they were too young to fly, I let them walk around the front of the library, much like Henry did before. One of the two grew up and flew away. The other died of some illness. My first attempt to have some pigeons in my area failed. The fact that I had no cage in which to keep them was a big part of why I failed. So I drew up some plans and made a cage big enough to hold four boxes, or two pair of birds. I placed this coop out in front of the library in which I work. One night in late September, 1995, my landlord and I went to Uijongbu to see about getting four young, but grown birds. I was given four birds took them to the library the next morning. Up to now I had not seen what these birds looked like because it was dark when I got them. I took them out of the box and placed them into the coop. My friend and I looked at these birds in complete disbelief. One was black with a white triangle in each wing, and no feathers from the breast to the beak. Another was solid black and obviously suffering from some type of sickness. Another was light gray with two bars on the wings, but only one functioning eye on its head. The fourth was in the best shape, except that his legs were much shorter than normal - he kept tripping over his own feet. Another thing, all four pigeons were covered in dung. A rough group at best. At the end of two weeks, I was amazed at how much better they looked. I opened the doors and let them out. Only the sick black one came out. Shortly after he came out, I found him dead under the cage. Strike one. I locked the cage up until the next day, when I opened it up again. This time the one eyed pigeon came out. I never saw him again. Strike 2. The following day, the remaining to birds came out of the cage and flew off. That evening, one actually returned to the cage. The other was nowhere to be found. The next day, neither bird came back. However, the following morning I found both birds walking around as I was walking to work. An hour later, the were back in the cage. Well, two out of four ain't bad. All winter long these pigeons were the best of friends. They were always together. They built a nest in one of the boxes. Everything was going really well, until 11 February, 1995. That was the first really nice day of the year. This was also the day I found out that both of my birds were males. They both spent all day trying to get a female to follow them into the cage. Unfortunately for them, there were two reasons why they were unsuccessful. One, the females they got to follow them were wild birds and not accustomed to the area where the cage was, or to the cage itself. They would not go in. Every time a female would go away, the male would seek out and bring back another one, only to fail again. The other reason for failure was that the males would chase each other away, neither wanting to share the cage. There was, however, one female who did go into the cage. I caught her using a piece of cardboard and string. She was a nondescript bird, so I let her go the next day in hopes of catching a prettier one. Finally, two days later, one male, while defending the cage, drew blood. The other bird left and either died from the wound or refused to come back. Now I had only one male bird left, the one with the short legs. I named him Gimpy. He kept bringing the same female to the cage, over and over, but she would not go inside. I blocked one entrance with a piece of cardboard, and rigged another piece of cardboard with a piece of string in from of the other opening. I ran the string through a bunch of small eyebolts to my desk in the library. After about a week, the female did go into the cage, and I trapped her with my Acme Pigeon Trap (cardboard and string). At least now I knew for sure that I had a pair of birds, one homer and one wild. The female was, in fact, the very same female I released a few days earlier. This time I kept her and named her C.T. for Caught Twice. Form this point on, I have everything documented. Everything from when eggs were laid, young hatched, grew up and flew. I read it every once in a while. I also have it on disk. I am amazed at the amount of free time I must have had at work to make notes of each and every thing that happened. Oh, well.... Back to the story.. At least I knew for sure that I had a male and a female. It took a few days for C.T. to settle down enough to eat from the food tray. She was still scared, but hunger does seem to win over. After a week and a half, both Gimpy and C.T. began building a nest in one of the boxes. I was happy about that, but I was not sure if C.T. would remain after I opened the doors. After keeping them both locked up for exactly two weeks, I opened both doors and waited. Gimpy came out immediately, followed closely by C.T. Both birds flew to the ground in front of the cage and walked around the area for about 15 minutes. Then they were gone. Exactly one hour later they came back and went into the cage. I was very happy to see that things were looking good. I was even happier when, the next evening, C.T. laid the first of two eggs. For seventeen days, the birds shared duties on the nest, with C.T. taking up the majority of the brooding. I noticed very different attitudes towards the nesting responsibilities. C.T., the female, would wait on the nest until Gimpy returned from his outings, fed his face, sucked down some water, climbed up to the nest and relieved her. On the other hand, Gimpy would wait on the nest only until he saw C.T. returning to the cage. He would jump off the nest, chow down and be gone before C.T. ever made it to the nest. Kind of reminds me of some people I know. Of the two eggs in the nest, only one hatched. The other was infertile. It was interesting watching the youngster grow up. About three weeks after the baby hatched, two more eggs were laid. The first young, who I named Max, left the cage for the first time shortly after. Gimpy would take Max around the area, showing him whatever pigeon dads show pigeon kids. Everything was great, until a week later. Suddenly Gimpy did not want Max to go into the cage, onto the cage, or anywhere within ten feet of the cage. Vicious fights broke out frequently. Max, on the other hand, was not mister innocent. He took every opportunity he could to attempt copulation with C.T. (Mom). It was horrible. Max would run into the cage and jump C.T. on the nest. Gimpy would come in right behind him and try to kick him out of the cage. The noise was not good. Three fighting pigeons and two eggs bouncing around the nest under the fighting birds. I didn't know if that was "normal" behavior, or just some strange birds. I did not like it. The eggs were now past the seventeenth day, so I waited until I could get to them to have a look. Each egg had a hole in it and each hole had a tiny beak sticking out of it, but the babies were dead. What a bummer. During the summer, Gimpy and C.T. had two more clutches of eggs. Each time only one egg hatched. They grew up and got the same treatment from Gimpy as Max did. However neither of the two younger birds ever attacked C.T. I guess that was just a Max thing. At the end of September, I had seven birds, the original two (Gimpy and C.T.), their three offspring (Max, Sam, and Tailspot), and two other young birds who just joined the flock (Blackie and Henry II). There was almost always pigeons outside the library. People commented on how nice it was to have them there. One day in late September, the phone rang. It is the Command Sergeant Major of the United States Army Garrison on Camp Casey. (Remember, I work on a Military compound.) He informed me that the Commander has determined that my pigeon cage must be removed from "his" compound. I had no choice. They even talked about it at one of their high level staff meetings. The cage had to go. I took it into the library and made a shelf out of it. Then I built a feeder for the pigeons and put it outside where the cage had been. I couldn't just abandon them. They soon got used to the feeder, but one by one, the number of pigeons declined until only one came regularly to the feeder. Only Gimpy. Every day, four or five times, he would be there, stuffing his crop. Lately, however, he has had some company. It is a large, light gray bird, with two bars on the wings. It looks exactly like the original Henry, who started this whole pigeon thing. I call him Corporal (Two bars). Corporal is almost always with Gimpy. Sometimes there are up to five pigeons at once there. One time there was about twenty. It varies daily. My pigeon raising days are not over yet. The USAG commander leaves in 94 days (I have it on my calendar). When he's gone, my cage will reappear in front of the library. As good as that is, it presents a major problem. The cage will not be for Gimpy, or any of his friends. Let me go back a little bit. After I moved the cage into the library, I asked a Korean friend who lives in Seoul to see if he can find me some small white doves, like the ones magicians use. I built a small cage which I thought big enough for a pair of small doves. I was going to keep them in my place offpost. What he came back with was a pair of white fantails. Very large, very beautiful. I could not refuse them, even though I had no place to keep them. The cage I built for the doves was far too small. I had only one option. I dismantled the cage that I moved into the library, brought it home, and reassembled in my room. The fantails have been living with me for six months now. They have laid eggs three times, but none have hatched. Some were crushed by the setting birds. It's just as well, though, as I could not handle more than two. Now, when I move the cage back on post, Gimpy will undoubtedly take repossession of it. He had lived in it for a year. The fantails would not stand a chance against Gimpy. He is now a tough street bird. I will have to find a way to stop him from returning to the cage. Well, that is the end of my pigeon story. Or is it? I have a pair of baby fantails coming to me soon. Too young to fly. I am going to try to acclimate them to my area at the library before they can fly off. I don't know if I can, but I will try. The USAG commander said no cage, not no birds. I will keep them in the back room at night, and let them have the front yard during the day. It worked for Henry, I'll let you know if it works for the fantails. Thank you for reading this. Again. I hope you enjoyed it.

Mike

This update will carry the story from it's original ending of April 1997 to the current date, September 1997. The US Army Garrison Commander left Korea on 18 July 1997 and my pigeon cage was moved to my library on 19 July 1997. My fears about the prior cage occupants, Gimpy and C.T. were unfounded. Both C.T. and Gimpy disappeared about a month prior to the cage being moved. So, there was no legal occupancy problems. At the time of moving, I had the two original birds and a pair of youngsters who hatched three weeks earlier. The baby fantails my friend was supposed to bring to me never arrived. This was good, because my birds had finally had a successful clutch. It was the eighth clutch that finally hatched. All four birds adjusted nicely to the new cage area. Another two eggs were laid and both hatched, but one died a week later. Such is nature. Anyway, I now have five healthy (I hope) fantails. It is getting chilly here now and I don't really think there will be another clutch this year. Oh, well...There is always next year.

This Update will carry the story forward from the last update (September 1997) to present, 2 April 1998. Much has happened. On 4 December 1997, the original female, mother to all in the dovecote except the original male, her mate, died from eating a three foot piece of weather stripping. Later that month, two birds pair off and laid eggs; 4 eggs, to be exact, in the same nest. As it turned out, both these birds were females. Needless to say, none of these eggs hatched. About a week after I destroyed the useless eggs, one of the females mated with the original male, prior mate to the original female who died from eating the weather stripping. They laid a pair of eggs immediately. The other female mated with the last remaining male, the sole survivor or the second clutch of the original pair. Later, this female laid two eggs also. One of the pair failed to hatch any eggs, while the other hatched both successfully. Two more eggs were laid by the unsuccessful pair, which also failed to hatch. Of the successful hatching, the parents killed one of the young when it was two weeks old by feeding it grain which had been mixed with oil and grease obtained from beneath cars in a nearby parking lot. The other baby was abandoned a week later and I adopted it rather than letting it die in the cote. The original male was attacking it in the nest and actually pulled it out of the box and let it fall to the floor, below. When I retrieved it, it appeared to have a broken left wing and a severely malformed left leg. In March, 1998, both pairs again laid eggs. This time one pair hatched both eggs while the other hatched only one. The same day the one baby hatched, the female of the other pair failed to return to the cote and was not seen in the area at all the next day. Will she return? Probably not. Time will tell. I now have three adults, three chicks, and one adopted, crippled and broken winged two month old fantail.

Go to Mike's Fantail Dovecote
Go to Photos of my Pigeon Family
Go to The Iacomacci Four Legged Pigeon
Go to The Daily Lives of Gimpy and C.T.