Keeping up with my recent purge of animal images from the “flower” market, here we have a demonic dove, hell-bent on getting the F outta dodge. I (naturally) would have loved to buy him, name him Pablo Escobar, and become a crazy bird lady but alas, I don’t think they allow you to bring doves on planes. Maybe if I got a leash? In a sense, Pablo is the surly teen squab who was never adopted, while the little chicks I posted yesterday just got to the orphanage and are hopefully going to be picked up by a nice, yuppy couple and taken to the ‘burbs to get decked out in Crewcuts (the brand, not the hairstyle). If you think about it, Doves are just albino pigeons, and who wants to own a pigeon? I have digressed. But seriously, I cannot tell the difference between pigeons and doves, even Wikipedia is failing to explain it clearly. Maybe it’s because I’m hungover from Halloween, but I think it’s all really a conspiracy by the church to market white pigeons as “doves: the sign of peace” instead of feral birds that eat remnants of cheetos out of piles of vomit on the New York City sidewalks. While I could happily rant all day about my biology-induced confusion, I am instead going to applaud my white feathered friends for being magical, regardless of what they eat, because they a) can carry messages faster than USPS b) mate for life and c) make pretty awesome cooing calls. AND I guess they stand for peace, if you believe in Jesus that is.
And yes, I already posted this image so if you have been reading my blog for some time, lo siento.