Carrie Beakshaw

Pidge and the City
By Carrie Beakshaw, Your favorite Feathered Columnist

I woke up this morning upside down next to a hotdog cart, when I saw her: Slim, gray, and confident, with a beak so high in the air she may as well have been a fog horn. I knew right away this wasn’t her block, she hadn’t toiled away at the nest in the alley corner. She hadn’t worked for it. But there she was, pecking around like she owned the place. I’ve survived car horns, toddlers, and the odd cab running a red. I’m seasoned. Hardened. Slightly bread-addicted. And above all, I know the value of a prime stoop. Was this accidental territorial infringement or a straight-up attack? With pigeons, it’s a thin line between cooing and war.”