I had a sort of pet pigeon named Foo Foo. My dad brought home a baby pigeon whose nest had fallen victim to a onstruction project where he was working. We hand fed Foo Foo until “he” was ready to go out into the world. We said our goodbyes and tossed him gently into the air expecting him to fly away. Instead, he flew up on the roof of the porch and decided he was going to continue to live with us. The next year he laid a nest of eggs in the garage, at which point we discovered that he was a she.