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home of the bad touch
Issue 17.7: abuse
Posted: March 4, 2002

Legless Pigeon Recounts Tales of Early Abuse

Mike Noble

Katie O'Shea

I am sitting on a bench outside Schermerhorn when he waddles over. I am immediately struck by that strange mix of pity and embarrassing amusement I feel whenever I encounter a homeless Vietnam-vet land mine victim. "Hi. I'm Larry," he says with all the confidence of a twelve-year-old in orthodontic headgear at a middle school dance.

Larry, the infamous legless pigeon who lives between Schermerhorn and Fayerweather, is just another victim of a growing wave of pigeon-on-pigeon violence here in New York City. "I remember the first time I was attacked," he sheepishly begins to recount. "I was two, and I had just moved from my parents' nest in Philadelphia. As much as people laugh at that old cliche, ‘the city of brotherly love,' I really think pigeons knew how to treat each other back in Philly. On my first day here, I got viciously assaulted by a gang of my fellows! I mean, I'd expect that kind of behavior from crows or squirrels, but not from us kings among birds!"

He takes a moment to peck at his stumps. "I'm sorry, they just itch so much. You know, phantom leg syndrome. But yeah, that first night, they broke my beak. And that was just a greeting! It only got worse. I got everything from broken wings to the dreaded ‘Lady Godiva,' where they pluck out all your feathers and make you fly naked through Times Square for the tourists. Back in '98, things got serious. I was just minding my own business, eating some bread crumbs that Professor Terrace had dropped, when six of them flew in. Four of them held me down while two began to gnaw my legs off! I survived thanks to the loving care of a nearby ISO member. She nursed me back to health and carried me around College Walk every day screaming something like ‘This is how the man puts us down!'"

Some experts believe the bird-on-bird violence has risen so much that now over half of pigeon injuries are caused by other members of the species. This warfare also accounts for more than double the number of pigeon fatalities attributed to the next three highest causes of death (accidental electrocution, mutilation by adolescent humans, and autoerotic asphyxiation) combined.

The biggest reason why pigeon violence has increased so significantly may be related to the recent growth of competition between gangs for local protection rights. It seems many in the security racket create sorry little freaks like Larry to serve as examples to potential customers and enemies. One gang member, Sal ‘Flying Rat' Piggiano denied such claims when interviewed. "Hey, I ain't saying things don't happen. It's a dangerous city. Birds wake up all the time with cinderblocks where their legs used to be. But there ain't no reason it has to be that way, when me and my associates can look out for these bozos for just a few crumbs of bagel a day. Guess this Larry kid didn't know a good deal when he saw it."

I ask Larry how he gets around. "Just barely," he replies. "I can still fly all right; landing is the hard part. I've learned to tuck and roll. And I can hop from place to place using my wings. But I mostly just sorta waddle." Larry looks wistfully at the sun setting behind Butler, occasionally picking at his scars with his beak. "I mean, it's great living at a liberal university and all. There are so many stupid saps in socialist organizations who love giving great handouts, and occasionally great head. But sometimes it's just so scary out there. It's like Pigeon Fight Club." With that, Larry waddles off into the sunset and falls into the hole left by a missing brick. And I can't help but smile.