It's Wildlife Week here on the Craptacular, mostly because there has been such a rash of sightings and encounters Mojo can scarcely leave her house without shooing away a variety of beasties and whatnot. Which she finds to be one of the may pleasures of life in the sticks. Others are not so happy with, say, her resident garter snakes or the simple fact that her mowing the lawn each week calls up whole herds of frogs and toads hopping ahead of the mower like a plague. More Mojo!>>
This is not my story, but a friend's story. She just called me up to tell me the ending, since we were all atwitter wondering what would happen.
My friend M looked out her window last week and saw something you really don't see too often out here in the sticks--a pigeon pecking and cooing among the birds at her bird feeder. When she went outside all the wild birds flew away, but not the pigeon. He just stood there as she approached. He wouldn't let her get close enough to grab him or anything, but she saw he had a band on his leg and figured out he was someone's racing pigeon.
And he was apparently lost, for as the days went by the pigeon showed no signs whatsoever of leaving. So she started researching racing pigeons on the internet. Turns out there's this whole protocol to follow when you find a bird so you can reunite said fowl with his or her owner. But first you need to get all the numbers off of the band on his leg. More Mojo!>>