I was relaxing on Saturday afternoon just gone, drinking tea and reading the paper as the sun streamed in my kitchen window. ‘This is a really nice day‘ I thought to myself. ‘I mean as days go this is up there with some of the really nice weekends that I can remember‘ instantly jinxing myself beyond any reasonable doubt.
What followed in the next ten minutes was very very unpleasant, I mean not as unpleasant as falling over a wall onto a bicycle with no seat and careering down a hill into a skip filled with medical waste, but very unpleasant none the less. First I heard a clicking sound and a repeated clunk, I swiveled around to see my cat Arthur attempting to bring something rather large through the cat flap, he has done this before so I wasn’t too shocked, he has previously presented us with countless mice, a rat, and two budgies on two separate occasions (I have no idea where from), and now he had himself the prize, Arthur was now struggling with a pigeon and this fucker was massive. I groaned and got up to bag it up and pop it in the bin, however this saga was only just beginning as the bastard pigeon was alive.
It lay on its back, it’s beak opening and closing, mouthing the words ‘coo coo’, Arthur sat beside it looking (if it is possible for a cat) quite pleased with himself. The bird had only one eye by now, and its feathers were at a premium. It was plain that the creature was way beyond saving, it looked up at me, I am sure he was viewing me fully surrounded by a bright healing light, it gasped again and winked (with its remaining good eye) its guts were now spilling out onto the floor, it looked very like that scene in Return of the Jedi when Han Solo cuts open the ton-tons stomach to save Luke from freezing, a cool scene but not one I wanted on my kitchen floor. I picked it up and carried it outside but it still lay there gasping, I was racked with guilt, how could I stand by and watch it suffer and cling to a futile attempt to survive, so I decided that I had to put it out of its misery in the most humane way possible.
I put a plastic bag gently over it and looked around for a blunt instrument, I instantly spied and grabbed a large plank of wood from the tip that is my tiny back garden, I brought the piece of wood up over my head and smashed it down on the bag, again I brought the wood back above my head and with all my might I crashed it down again, then a third time. I felt as terrible as I can ever remember feeling, but the idea of leaving an animal in obvious sickening pain is something that I just could not do. I pulled back the bag to check on the state of the unluckiest bird in all of Dublin, but to my horror he was still alive. Now he had approximately zero eyes. I nearly vomited on top of the now even more mangled and unfortunate fucker and I was sure I heard him hiss “you idiot”. I quickly took aim and with a huge swing and cracked the bird again, thankfully this time he had no fight left in him and his chest and broken limbs stopped moving.
I stood there for a minute or two thinking how I was a stone cold remorseless killer and that strangely I was now entirely and completely full of remorse, I looked down at the mess on the concrete and a single tear left my eye. I have never killed anything in my life before, well I have killed a fly, perhaps some ants, a snail or two by accident, and that homeless man who I pushed over Burgh Quay into the Liffey but this was somehow all too real. The actual act of ending another beings existence sickened me, perhaps you might say ‘oh well pigeons are dirty filthy creatures, bloody flying rats’, but all I could think about was that these birds take a mate for life, and that this now dead and mangled bird could have been having the paper and cup of tea equivalent of a lazy pigeon Saturday, just before my cat tore him a sunder and I destoyed his one remaining good eye with a huge plank.
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 9:42 am
Mrs. Cooper and the li’l tweet tweets must be devastated.
You did the right thing (in theory).
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 10:15 am
That reminds of a story about a dog, a goat, a rock and a stream!
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 10:15 am
You MONSTER!
(But I would have done the same thing. It was the only way.)
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 11:20 am
Dastardly!
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 11:31 am
You did the right thing. My sisters cat brought in a special treat last year - a half dead baby bird plus the leg and arse remains of one of its siblings. She couldnt bring herself to put the dying one ‘out of its misery’ so she tipped it into an empty tin can with the arse of its brother and buried it in the bin outside.
what a way to go.
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 11:32 am
A tale of a cat and a pigeon….. two things i hate….. i’d have thrown the cat into the bag for good measure
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 11:55 am
Ah, Dr. Leeroy I presume? I think a stellar career in the euthanasia departments of Dutch hospitals does not beckon.
“Yesh thish is my Uncle Honklen Von der Boogerhonker, pleashe make him comfortable for the passhing Doctor Leeroy….”
**Bam! Splat!**
“I’ll post on the invoice.”
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 12:21 pm
Oh Terence you funny bastard. I spluttered tea across my keyboard just now.
I’ll post on the invoice.
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 12:24 pm
You had to do it. I’ve had to do something similar - twice - and it is awful. It would be more awful if you didn’t feel that it is.
But if there’s a next time, it’s easier, quicker, and a lot less messy to just break its neck.
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 12:34 pm
Meadow you cold hearted assassin you.
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 12:35 pm
@ Pryin - thanks for the vote of confidence
@ Ovak - please tell ?
@ Radge - I am not an animal ( I swear)
@ Conan - I wept, is that enough ?
@ Helen - harsh, and unusually cruel
@ Ubuntuc - your the real hater.
@ Terence - amusing stuff, and a chance of career in the offing
@ Narocroc - He has been talked about in my circles. I quote “mcdanger is funny. so funny, in fact, that i have to murder.
him”
@ Meadow - I never thought of that.
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 12:46 pm
RIP dear pigeon. You had such a long and exciting life ahead of you. You will be missed.
Nah, Pigeons are gross. I’m amazed you didn’t puke.
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 1:00 pm
@ Artfreak - I gagged, does that count ?
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 1:02 pm
Ahh, I had a similar experience with a baby mouse, stupid trap y husband bought closed on its back, it was dragging it around, squealing.
Took 3 whacks with a suacepan, the first go flattened its head and bulged its eye out but it was still alive.
Fucking horrible. I was severely shaken. Aconite, remedy, stopped the s haking hands and girly sobbing instantly!
A pigeon’s much bigger though.
It’s freaky that so many people can kill so easily, even enjoy it, find a thrill in that same experience. Imagine, people, children, nevermind mice and pigeons?
Maybe some of us have cat genes…
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 1:07 pm
“I wept, is that enough ?”
Ok, but Arthur has to be re-named Mutley.
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 1:15 pm
Jo, reading your last line (”Maybe some of us have cat genes”) I couldn’t help but laugh. I had this image of a nice new pair of denims made from mangled, saucepan-whacked cat!
Sorry Red. I’m taking over. I’ll stop commenting now.
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 1:18 pm
@ Jo - The very same thing crossed my mind. I said aloud, “I could never be a murderer”
@ Conan - catch that pigeon NOOOOOW
@ Narocroc - No no, this is an open house. Never cease.
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 1:28 pm
NaRocRoc, I’m a melty hearted assassin. The most dangerous kind!
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 2:46 pm
In completely unlinked news, has anybody seen my pet pigeon? He’s about nay height, nay width, bluish grey — pretty much like a regular pigeon. I haven’t seen him since Saturday, and he’s never stayed away this long before.
The police have told me in no uncertain terms to stop calling. They said there are strict guidelines on missing fowl. Were it a parrot, they could put out an APB, but not for what the law labels “Aerorats”.
If anybody has seen Pajo (that’s his name), please let me know. If I thought anything had happened to him, I honestly don’t know what I’d do (to others).
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 2:51 pm
@ Irishbegrudger - Oh dear Christ no.
After I had bludgeoned him to death I removed a tiny ornate necklace from his neck, it………..said……………Pajo.
please forgive me. What can I do to make this right ?
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 4:44 pm
Ok Red,
A friend of mine was walkin his dog(one of those husky-like bastards) up the dublin mountains, he let it off its leash and it went tearing off after a goat. The dog, Wolfie, caught up with the goat, leapt onto its back and clamped down its gnarly jaw onto the bearded bollox’s neck. My friend and his girlfriend managed to pull Wolfie off the poor fucker and she dragged him back to the car.
My friend was left at the scene with a truly fucked up goat and his pity got the better of him.
He picked up a rock and dropped it on the goats skull but the fucker still lived, he picked up the bloodied weapon and dropped it again, but the beast still breathed.
He had to find a new solution.
He dragged the mangled and mashed goat to the stream around 75 yards away and drowned the bastard.
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 4:53 pm
holy fuck that is quite nearly Satanic, if John Braine was here he could tell the story about drowning the Gerbil that had no legs…..seriously.
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 4:55 pm
You talk about me in circles? It is easier to talk while standing still, no?
Oh I’m all confused now.
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 5:00 pm
If I were forced to kill it, I’d put it in the freezer.
Then wouldn’t the bird just drift off to sleep and then die?
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 6:05 pm
And then for you, the ‘recession’ beater:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/database/pigeonpie_8159.shtml
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 7:45 pm
I’m kinda surprised you didn’t stick a Luke Skywalker figure in his guts and pose the corpse for photos. Maybe with some spray cream to recreate Hoth’s frozen wasteland.
Don’t act coy; it wouldn’t be the first time for you.
@ Ovak: dear christ!
@ Mebdh: you’re suggesting he make a pie? (ah, I just spotted that Conan beat me to that one)
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 7:56 pm
@ Terence - sorry, yes a friend of mine who reads my blog on occasion stumbled upon yours, so aghast he was at your talent and humour that he proclaimed he wanted you dead. (in a nice way)
@ Medbh - I don’t know, wouldn’t it slow the whole death thing down? maybe not but it seems more terrible than a swift 2×4 to the head.
@ Conan - He was a North Side pigeon, who knows what ran through his veins.
@ Waxy - I did consider a photo but was far too traumatised (and stoned)
on Apr 21st, 2009 at 8:11 pm
Ah of course, it’s an “only when you’re stoned” occurrence.
It all makes perfect sense now.
It was probably a ball of wool you were tapping lightly with a matchstick.
Arthur is your milkman.
He was not at the scene at any point.
Then the pictures started smirking at you. That made the tv join in, but cruelly, openly mocking you.
Shit, I’m giving myself flashbacks.
on Apr 22nd, 2009 at 12:23 am
I must high me to Terence’s blog. Sometimes I’m scared of new to me blogs…
Having noted him, though, I have to say, this is the second time Irishbegrudger’s made me laugh in comments today.
That goat story is fucked up!
on Apr 22nd, 2009 at 9:28 am
>if John Braine was here he could tell the story about drowning the Gerbil that had no legs…..seriously.
I didn’t want to try and out cull you again!
It was actually a load of baby gerbils not one. I was only a nipper - but as far as I can remember the mother ate all their legs. Don’t know what I was thinking but I put them in a sink full of water and put a bowl over them - but they started spilling out and I had to hold them under my hands. It was fucking horrible.
This is from <a href = “http://www.johnbraine.com/2007/05/bunnies.html” an old blog post:
Annuvver fing is that I tend to get carried away with things that I get into. When I was 11 I got a rabbit. One year later I had a hundred foot compound, housing about 50 different rabbits, I mixed my own rabbit food which I sold to people who had previously bought rabbits from me, and I also sold rabbits to pet shops. I had special breeding bucks that were bred to sire litters of 12 or so, rather than a standard 5 or 6. I can honestly say I had more of a disposable income when I was 12 than I do now! I also had terrapins, mice, a single pigeon, budgies, guinea-pigs, koi, a hooded crow, and a gerbil city. They say pets can help teach kids a thing or two about life, the unverse and everything. I’ll say! I had to do some things that no 12 year old should have to experience, like mercy-killing sick rabbits and drowning baby gerbils born with no legs. And I still, very frequently, have dreams about rabbits burrowing their way out of the garden!
“You still wake up sometimes, don’t you Clarice? You wake up in the dark and hear the screaming of the lambs. “
on Apr 22nd, 2009 at 2:16 pm
John, if there isn’t a book in there well we may as well stop looking. Brilliant stuff.
on Apr 23rd, 2009 at 12:03 pm
That was exactly my thought.
Do it Mr. Braine. Do it!
on May 12th, 2009 at 5:05 pm
i had a similar experience with an owl, beautiful, majestic, rare, probably out hunting to feed it’s new born, clipped it in the car. it was a alive but fecked. after much fruitless cajoling i had to do the humane thing (think american history X, not the shower scene). you may never have seen an owl in real life, i can confirm they are very pretty birds.