Not for Weddings

Having decided to get doves (see last post), Nigel became proactive. He ordered a dovecote. We were surprised at how expensive dovecotes are, and how large.

When ours arrived we peered inside to see if there were en suite bathrooms with power showers and anti-mist electric mirrors.

Nigel and a helpful neighbour got it pinned to the wall.

Now all we had to do was source the doves. 

We had to be quick as doves need to be cooped up for six weeks in order to bond with their new home.  We had six weeks right now, following my foot surgery, but as soon as I was better, we would need to go away for the weekend visiting our parents once more.

But even with Google at our fingertips we were drawing a blank.

A site called “Preloved” was offering doves.  I was not sure I want “preloved” doves. It sounded a little weird.

But we joined the site anyway, only to find them gone.

Another breeder insisted on answering our queries only in single word answers and after a while, we gave up the struggle. Yes.

Time was going on.

Finally Nigel found a supplier who said, “Not sold for release at weddings” – the hallmark of quality.

Only snag was they were in Great Yarmouth, nearly three hours from us.

We asked the questions we were supposed to:

“Are they bonded pairs?”

“Sorry, no – too young.”

“Well, have you been able to sex them then?”

“Very difficult with doves.”

“And have you wormed them?”

“Don't usually bother I'm afraid.”

Hmm.

But time was ticking away.

“We’ll take them!”

And that was how we came to drive all the way to Great Yarmouth with a large cardboard box, and bring it back again full of snowy white doves.

Feathered Ambition

Doves have been special to us ever since our courtship. When we moved to our current house we were delighted to see that there were doves nesting under the solar panels opposite. (See previous blog.)

However the owners of the solar panels were less impressed and blocked the birds’ access with wire netting. Still convinced that it was their home, the doves returned for a while but soon it became rarer to see them. 

I missed them.

Then I overheard a conversation in an upmarket junk shop in Cornwall. A woman browsing amongst the stuffed owls and Formica table tops was telling her companion how she had been given three pairs of doves as a wedding gift and now had a whole flock.

My ears flapped. My mouth gaped. I looked down to see I was gripping an antique prosthetic leg.

Hastily I put it down and left to ring Nigel. "We could get our own doves!"

Nigel did some research. 

There was an obstacle. In order to feel that our garden was their home, the birds would need to be cooped up here for 6 weeks. 

"But when would we be at home all the time for six whole weeks?"

When I've had surgery on my foot. That's when.

So we are seizing the day and getting some doves. At last I will not be the only one being "cooped up" at our house.