#3
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My best mate kept pigeons - 'racers and tumblers', as did his old man before him...he kept them in a massive purpose built Dovecot that his old man made at the top of his allotment.
The place was absolutely immaculate and he was up there tending to them every day. He unfortunately had to give the allotment up when the local council wanted the land for redevelopment which was a shame really - some of the veg out of that allotment was absolutely stunning. He very reluctantly gave the pigeons he had remaining to another 'fancier' in Jesmond - he was really attached to them.
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“Sailors, with their built in sense of order, service and discipline, should really be running the world.” Nicholas Monsarrat |
#4
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Never had any experience of pigeons in the loft, but some interesting times in the loft with another bird!
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#6
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On the Railways of old there seemed to be at least one pigeon fancier at every station. They were often useful in dealing with 'feral' birds. They would also be tasked with 'liberating' birds which used to be sent via Railway vans to fly home. As a recompense the Station Master would allow them to pop out to tend their loft.
As the acknowledged clock and watch man I often got asked to attend pigeon clocks. The problem for me was that they needed to be sealed and certified before they could be used for some events - I used to try and reset the old seals.... Now all a thing of the past.
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The Mad Landsman |
#8
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Carrier pigeons were used in both world wars.
in WW2 32 birds were awarded the Dickin medal. More here: https://www.rpra.org/pigeon-history/pigeons-in-war/
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The Mad Landsman |
#9
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Quote:
Mr Jones' passion is his shed full of racing pigeons. The house roof is spattered and streaked with droppings, and the women on either side rush out to take in the washing when they hear him rattling the tin of pigeon corn and calling, 'Howway, howway' as the birds collect along the roof ridge after a race. He then hurries to get them into the loft and recorded on the pigeon clock as soon as he can, but sometimes they just sit in a row and stare down at him. If they dawdle like that his shouts can shift from a coaxing soft call to angry yells of, 'Howway, ya buggers!' The pigeon loft is painted in green and white stripes to help the birds find it. We go in. Wings flap, dust and feathers float about. They're locked in this morning because he must prepare his best bird to send on the railway for a big race. 'Sit down there and I'll show you a secret, but make sure you never let on to anyone about it.' His gnarled hands reach into a pen where there's a red-chequered cock with its hen bird who's sitting on a pair of white eggs. He gently lifts the cock bird out of the cage and holds it in front of me. 'Now, young'un, look at this feller. Feel those flight muscles in his chest. See that bonny 'eye sign' – he's got Belgian blood. I sent away for him. He cost a good few bob and there's nowt to match him in this town.' He gives the bird to me. I take hold with two hands, gently, but firmly so that he feels safe. Specks of dust dance in the shafts of light that come through the ventilation slats. In the sunbeams, his feathers flash with patches of gold and red and bronze in between white chequer marks that gleam like mother-of-pearl. I tremble with admiration and his head turns and he fixes me with a steady ruby gaze. Pupils intense black and the iris flecked with gold, the 'eye sign' of the top Belgian racers. I have a lump in my throat, from a mysterious new emotion. Mr Jones looks down at me, a twinkle in his faded blue eyes. 'Now you howld him properly for a minute. He can beat them all in today's race, but just to make sure … Watch this.' He reaches into the next pen and takes out a blue cock and puts him in with the red cock's wife. The blue cock straightaway starts strutting up and down, cooing, chest all pouting and swelled up. 'Now, lad, howld the red'un up so he can see what's happening; keep tight howld on him mind.' His hen's in the top cage so I have to stretch up on tiptoe, but today I feel taller and older. I know I won't drop this bird, even though he starts to struggle at the sight of his mate being displayed to by that blue cock. But he struggles harder. His smooth, strong wings are almost free. Then a panicked thought: What if his wings get loose and one gets broken, what if he can never fly again? I call out in what I think is a manly voice. 'Mr Jones, I can feel his heart pounding and he's fighting to escape!' 'That's just how I want him! Right, let's get him into the basket and off to the railway station with the others. He'll not mess about on the way home. After what he's seen, yon will go like Billio.' (Billio might refer to Stephenson's steam-engine, 'Puffing Billy', or to Garibaldi's Genoese General Biglio, who would encourage his troops with, 'Follow me! Fight like Biglio!' No doubt the chequered cock flew fast and brave.)
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Welcome to my blog: https://1513fusion.wordpress.com |
#10
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Brilliant story Harry..... reminds me so much of my best mates dads loft back in Wallsend!
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“Sailors, with their built in sense of order, service and discipline, should really be running the world.” Nicholas Monsarrat |
#11
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I remember as a kid a fellow across our backs (back lane between terraced council houses) kept pigeons. Not sure if he raced them, he just let them out every evening and they would fly around and around in a sort of group formation flying, very impressive at the time, and then go back into the loft in his garden (if that makes sense) when they were done.
I always wondered as a kid why they didn't just shoot off to freedom once they were out, but they dutifully returned after their fly about. I guess a roof over your head, regular food and a desire to stay with the crowd might seem better than the madness of survival in the wild. However what little experience I've had with pigeons leads me to believe they don't think like that, yet to meet a pigeon that would give Albert Einstein a hard time in a quiz.
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"I say we take off, nuke the site from orbit. It's the only way to be sure." Corporal Hicks (Actually Ripley said it first.) |
#12
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15 Incredible Facts About Pigeons
They are some smart little guys. Interesting read. http://mentalfloss.com/article/53550...-about-pigeons |
#13
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Well that may be, but when I drive out to Tamar Lake most days for a walk there are usually pigeons in the road, who just sit there when the car approaches. I've actually found myself getting out of the car the shoo them off (the very last thing I want to do is run over a bird.)
Given the size of a car relative to a pigeon, this doesn't convince me they are that smart …
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"I say we take off, nuke the site from orbit. It's the only way to be sure." Corporal Hicks (Actually Ripley said it first.) |
#14
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#15
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my ex brother in law and his dad kept racing pidgeons in easington lane durham and some years back won every cup and medal in durham racing club If I rememeber it was late 70s/early 80s his front room was full of them .
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#17
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morning John keeping well ? birds in the loft out back ,the rest in the house.hahah mind you a small 2 bedroom house .but he was a gambler and did not take long to flog em all the the pawn shops ..see SN is down again today Tata for now tony
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#18
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Quote:
tony pigeon.jpg |
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