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The plane forced its way through successive sheets of sleet as it landed into the city. A sense of dread filled me during the flight, growing stronger as I made my way through the airport. I resented having to be the place where I had spent my youth, after living on the opposite end of the world for what had felt like a lifetime.

After a few days, I ventured out to get a trim. My mind was far away, back across an ocean, when I became aware of something strike the ground. I looked down to see a bird on its back, sprawled, and twitching.

The impact occurred just as schoolchildren were emerging from the local primary school and so within a short time a little crowd of children had formed, flanked by their parents. This group of bemused faces stared down at the bird, unsure what to do or say. The kids were more definitive: “Papa, she needs a vet, can we call an animal ambulance?” I took off my coat, knelt down and scooped the pigeon inside it. “It’s okay, sweet, the nice man will help her!” said one parent with a audible relief. I had been transformed into the emergency transport for this pigeon that had just come down hard, unintentionally, as I had a couple of days prior.

I made my way home, arms held out, with the bird tucked safely inside the garment.

Unbeknownst to me that my on-the-spot decision to rescue Belinda (the name I gave my new friend) would guide me to a network of local residents devoting significant amounts of effort to provide not only rescue services for feral pigeons but diagnostic imaging, respite care, and even “pigeon physio”.

I retrieved a small container for Belinda, prepared it with an old T-shirt, and put her inside. Every short while, I’d peek inside just long enough for us to share a momentary glance.

Those moments of common confusion punctuated my desperate search for what to do next. I phoned friends for advice and one suggested trying social media, where, to my surprise, I found a local pigeon rescue group, and sent a request to participate.

A Grassroots Network

Boasting thousands of members, the group operates on an organic method: someone in Manchester discovers an hurt pigeon, a heartfelt post is made, then a comment section “triage” follows. If the bird is deemed in need of an scan, someone with a veterinary contact can organize it; if it needs physio, a “carer” will step forward to foster the bird.

Rehabbers each have their own finely honed specialities, whether it’s mending broken wings or cleaning wounds. Their tremendous, collective effort for the pigeons of the city runs entirely on goodwill.

Belinda was rapidly diagnosed with a neurological issue, likely a blow to the head, and assigned to a rehabber who would provide pain relief and a course of careful physio. We never learned exactly what made her to plummet. I took up the role of bird taxi once more, riding the tram across the city with Belinda in a container on my lap so she could obtain the care she required.

Rediscovering Home

After finding this secret pigeon “support system”, I began to feel much better about being back in my home town. I am skeptical any of the places I had resided in while away could have anything even close. It also occurred to me that this was not the first time I’d been connected to a pigeon rescue: almost 20 years earlier I’d observed one fall from the sky into the playground of my high school. Again, children circled the bird, but only one – my best friend at the time – had the gall to scoop it up and take it to safety.

The aforementioned friend has since passed away – one of several friends to pass away in the years before my departure from Manchester. I understood that this had been a significant factor of what had made coming back so difficult.

Pigeons as Companions

Pigeons have a longstanding role as “therapy” animals, especially in the north of England. Workers started to care for the birds because they gave them solace and an opportunity to gaze up at the sky between long shifts of subterranean gloom. During the economic downturn, workers on the unemployment also found comfort in pigeons, but keeping them was considered a sign of “idleness”.

Nowadays, pigeons are often written off as unintelligent, unclean or a general nuisance. Before finding the rehab group, I had spoken to a veterinarian, who told me: “if you bring the bird here, leave it in the car park and we’ll end its life.”

It? Not her. Although not expected to ever take to the skies , she has taken to her newly earthbound life with grace in a volunteer’s extra room. Each happy call, often caused by her favourite food, vegetables, feels like a demonstration in adaptability and resilience – and I am always appreciative to her for showing me a different facet to the city I was familiar with.