one year, he disappeared, which added a lot of sadness to my life. that summer, he reappeared and walked up a hill to greet me, with his mate and ducklings in tow. his mate had had a shattered (and repaired) beak, and was easy to pick out, and he spent time walking between us with "quack quack quack", back and forth, as if to introduce us. they stayed around at least until I moved a year or so later. by far the most profound experience I've had with a "wild" animal, a memorable experience that I will continue to cherish.

She had some rather distinct markings and would hang around the house pretty regularly after that. Then one day outside she was getting seriously groomed by a larger pigeon and wow is that where that term comes from?

Anyhow yeah she returned the grooming (which I'd later look up was her way of saying 'yeah I'm down - let's go') and I never saw her, or him, again.

So yeah - there could've been a happier ending there, especially because when a cat does eat a pigeon there tends to be evidence left.