Cage birds and racing pigeons

A pair of strange bird encounters in the past month.

A White-crowned Sparrow - living its best life. TWiB file photo.

There’s a big universe of bird-focused activities out there that have nothing to do with birding. I know, I know, it can be hard to believe. But it’s proof that birding often exists in its own very isolated bubble.

Case in point: a couple of recent experiences that involved birds but didn’t really have to do with what we’d traditionally think of as birding (the appreciation and observation of birds as a hobby).

Late last month, I was walking in a forest preserve on the Lake Border Upland™️ when I perceived an object in a stand of Cup Plant. There’s a big meadow here and local volunteers as well as forest preserve staff have done a great job in diversifying the plant life with native species. And it’s been a good year for Cup Plant. Goldfinches and sparrows had been feasting on Cup Plant seeds, and a few Nashville Warblers were lingering around, too. But I didn’t expect to find this strange contraption—and as it turned out four of them total—stuck in with the Plants.

I moved on thinking that it was odd but that it must relate to an official study of some sort. I also wondered if the cages would even work, as they looked a little rough.

A few days later, I wondered about the cages again and went over to check them out. I’ll let this video do some of the talking.

So, my best theories for what was going on here. Some of our most colorful songbirds have long been sought after as pets. Just think of Painted Buntings, or in this case American Goldfinches. It’s very possible someone was looking to catch one or two to keep as pets. It’s also possible they were looking to catch them and sell them—illegally I might note. The White-crowned Sparrows were caught by mistake when goldfinches were the targets.

After releasing the sparrows—there’s no knowing how long the white-crowns had been in there—I contacted the forest preserves and they picked up the cages and discarded them.

It’s hard to pigeon-hole this pastime

Close-up of a racing pigeon’s foot with plastic band that may include a transmitter.

Two Fridays ago, I was alerted to the presence of a dead pigeon that appeared to have met its demise from a hawk (likely a Cooper’s). There was a plastic band around the bird’s leg, which prompted me to post it to a Facebook group that centers on dead birds (don’t ask). I wondered what the band signified, and whether anyone in the group would have some information. The consensus was that the bird was a homing or racing pigeon, meaning a domesticated bird that was used for sport.

Someone else on the forum stated that the underlying purpose of racing pigeons wasn’t just the sport but rather gambling. That led me to do a few quick internet searches, and that appears to be the case. PETA has investigated this situation and found some unsettling results. In addition to millions spent on gambling, the treatment of the birds has been cruel to say the least.

It looks like there are some 700 racing pigeon clubs across the country. I imagine (hope) that many are in it for the birds and treat them well.

A story for another day may be about falconry. Humans have long trained raptors to hunt for them. (In researching falcons and The Magic Stump I briefly explored learning more about falconry.)

Again, there’s a big wide world of non-birding interest in birds, and sometimes it really jumps out.

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Scrimmages in the love-season?!

Pinnated Grouse featured by John James Audubon.

Longtime TWiB readers (at least since last month) know that I’m working on a video called The Best-Known Grouse in the Western States for an upcoming exhibition. The subject of the film, the Pinnated Grouse, known as the Heath Hen in the East and Prairie Chicken in the West, evoked some florid language in this 1901 account from the History of North American Birds.

“Upon the appearance of a female answering to their calls, they at once engage in their desperate encounters. They rise in the air and strike at one another in the manner of a gamecock, and several engage in a miscellaneous scrimmage, until the weaker give way, and, one after another, seek refuge in the neighboring bushes, the few remaining victors discontinuing their contests from sheer exhaustion.

In the love-season the males inflate the two remarkable air-bladders, which, in color and shape, resemble small oranges, lower their heads to the ground, open their bills, and give utterance to very singular and distinctly separate notes, by means of the air contained in these receptacles, rolling somewhat in the manner of the beatings of a muffled drum.”

A quick word about the Heath Hen—a bird of the East Coast which went extinct in the 1930s. Until last week, I didn’t know it was a subspecies of the Greater Prairie Chicken, the bird that is still with us in small numbers. So essentially Prairie Chickens were living in places like Long Island, N.Y., for centuries. In fact, European settlers first encountered the species out East and not on the prairie. Mind = blown!