A Short Squab Story

The chronology of this story I'm about to tell has been jumbled up by the lockdown-induced brain fog. Which did I see first?

The nest behind an air conditioner compressor unit? Or that pigeon parent brooding two chicks?

However, I did belatedly realise that the compressor now sheltering a pigeon nest is one of mine. I discovered the nest last December, and recalled another nest located in the emergency stairwell that had been destroyed weeks before by who I assumed was the cleaning crew.

A nearby fire hose was used, and on the remains of the nest lay two small white eggs. That image still haunts me, and might have kept me from reporting this nest. I'm also a fan of nest cams, so having a real nest nearby to watch would be interesting.

As I followed the chicks' growth, however, my decision to spare the nest and the pigeon family was challenged by how messy and unhygienic it was growing. This was a one-clutch nest, new. But I can't call the cleaners on two defenceless chicks, nor should anyone be forced to do what the may feel is unthinakble.

However, I would need to get the compressor serviced with the air conditioning and this complicated matters. No wonder the cleaning crew resorted to the fire hose.

How long would I have to wait until the chicks fledge?


City shitbird
A little research uncovered more about pigeons than I needed to know, but that's just me being a trivia glutton.

The bird we simply call a "pigeon" - the one with reddish eyes, blue-grey feathers, dark grey tail, and a shiny green and purple neck - is officially known as a rock dove or the common pigeon. So common, it is often considered a pest wherever they are abundant.

You've probably seen flocks of them mooch spilt rice or grain from shops, roosting in trees and on power lines or ledges, "bombing" unsuspecting cars and passers-by, or hanging out in nooks and corners of condo balconies and fouling these areas with feathers and poop.

So that's why I don't have pictures of the nest. You don't want to see any. This creature is also one reason I passed on a unit at a nearby condo. And I have yet to forgive what one of them did to my car 24 hours after I had it polished.

Like dogs, cats, raccoons and the occasional polar bear, pigeons have long associated humans with free food, so I guess we brought that on ourselves.

Found this squab on the steps of my condo several days after posting.
Not sure if this is the surviving squab SQ1, but it looks about the
same age. Practically a juvenile pigeon by now.

A young pigeon is called a squab - a word I haven't seen in years. When I first read it, I think it referred to some kind of food. Searching for "squab" on Instagram yields many images of dead but well-prepared and beautifully plated birds. Shatin roast pigeon, anyone?

For the first week or so, pigeon squabs are fed an exclusive diet of what's called crop milk or pigeon milk, a nutrient-dense substance that looks like cottage cheese. Both male and female pigeons can produce it, which you'd think would help out a lot when raising young.

But I assume that the amount and quality of crop milk produced depend on how well the bird is doing, so problems crop up if the parents aren't eating enough or, somehow, they have more than two squabs to feed. Pigeoons rarely lay more than two eggs per clutch.

...Thirty days. Squabs take about 30 days to fledge after hatching, which takes 17 to 19 days, but that may depend on how well they were fed. Thought I had forgotten, didn't you?

Also, pigeons breed about once or twice a year. They can have young less than a year after hatching and typically live for a few years in the wild, and longer in captivity. The population will be fine. But be careful when walking or parking your car under trees.


Sibling squab-ble?
My pigeon tenants had two chicks but when I checked on them before last Christmas, I saw that one of the squabs was nearly twice as big as the other.

The smaller and presumably younger one, which I dubbed SQ2, looked at least a week behind its larger sibling, SQ1, in development. The latter had begun sporting juvenile wing and tail feathers while the former was still a grey puffball.

Either SQ2 had hatched late or had a defect that hampered its growth,¹ or SQ1 had a farther head start after hatching. Both squabs are aggressive, and after each feeding the parent seemed eager to escape.

Arguably, when feeding your kids involve them shoving their beaks into your throat while you puke your milk, you'd think twice about having them. But we're talking about pigeons, which only seem to exist as fodder and fouler of balconies, ledges, roofs and cars.

So for days I've been hearing the peep peep peep of two pushy squabs from my unit as they wait for Mom or Dad to come home. Then, yesterday - or was it the day before? - I looked out the window and saw SQ1 all but covered in juvenile pigeon plumage.

SQ2, however, was nowhere.


And then there was one
Upon seeing SQ1 and SQ2, I knew the latter would be in trouble. Besides possibly hatching first, SQ1 has been getting the lion's share during feedings. Unable to compete, SQ2 was losing out. Mom and Dad might also be hard-pressed to produce enough crop milk.

The only possibility I can think of is that, when the squabs were chasing Mom or Dad around, jostling for a feed, SQ2 either lost its footing and fell off the ledge, or had been accidentally pushed off by its sibling or parent.

I don't believe it was intentional. Unless they're stressed or barring certain factors,² pigeons do not turn on their young.

Regardless, I hope SQ2 had died from the fall. Because if it didn't and kept calling for its parents, one of them may kill it in a practice called scalping, in case the squab's cries attract predators.

Nor would falling near another pigeon nest help. Besides being skittish, pigeons are also territorial and will attack or kill squabs other than their own. And if the nest or squabs appear disturbed, the parents will abandon both.

These things happen. The law of the jungle stays even if the jungle itself is gone.


Leaving the nest
Things took another turn today. A hungry squab will chase its parent around until it is sated or the parent flees, but from this afternoon's feeding, the parent seems to be priming SQ1 for take-off. Sometimes I think the adults do this to get their offspring out of the nest ASAP so they can nookie and make more shitbirds.

As SQ1 had migrated from the main ledge to one of the side ledges, I tried to spot it from another window. Looking up and to the left, I was greeted by a tuft of dark grey feathers, then a head with a beak.

A quick visit on my way out to run an errand confirmed the presence of another new pigeon nest one level up, under another air-con compressor. A parent was brooding something on top of what looked like dirtied packing material.

Thus, life finds ways.

When I returned later in the evening, I peered out to the ledge. I was surprised to see SQ1 perched on another ledge two floors down.

The surviving juvenile had, technically, fledged.

Though pigeons are reputed to have good homing instincts, I don't think SQ1 will be returning to the nest, which now requires hazmat treatment. Nasty things lurk in whatever's left behind, including spores of a disease-causing fungus.

And hey, pigeons can carry bird flu viruses too, so please don't trap them for food while in lockdown. We don't want to incubate any more pandemic-grade pathogens.

Nevertheless, I'll be calling the condo management next week to see if they can do something about the empty nest. I wish them - and SQ1, wherever it may be - all the best.


¹ From a research paper (PDF file) about reasons squabs die. What atrocious writing. Wasn't this peer-reviewed for grammar?

² Never knew these cooing crap machines are this savage. These facts and more pigeon trivia can apparently be found on the main site. And with the other supplementary links I've sprinkled throughout, now you and I know more about pigeons than we probably should.