Part 4 - Devil Dove!

The photo shows Hope, a week or so ago, one frosty morning, about to eat a pea. The pink mark on her side is food colouring so I can identify her.

Monday 6th April 09

Please read Parts, 1,2 and 3 in the blogs below this one

Hope had stayed away the night of Sat. 4th April and I had again kept the babies in the kitchen overnight and put them back in the nest before she arrived back in the morning. She did come back and fed them several times in the early morning, and again about 11.20 am that I saw.

I didn't see her feed them after this time, and in case she truly did abandon them I went up to the WildLife Aid animal hospital at Leatherhead to get some advice http://www.wildlifeaid.org.uk/ This wonderful place always need donations of money or food for the animals so do help if you can. When I arrived they had two adorable little five-week old fox cubs, and I was able to stroke one. I'd never seen one in the flesh before and was enchanted by them - they seemed like a cross between a puppy and a kitten - doggie shaped, but kitten soft fur and tail. The woman I spoke to was very helpful, but said that the squabs, if truly abandoned, would have to be fed by tube and I wouldnt be able to do it myself, but could hopefully have them back when they could feed themselves. I left reassured that whatever happened they could be reared, and promised to bring back a donation of puppy food for the baby foxes, and nuts for the baby squirrels.

That afternoon about 4pm I happened to be in the garden and as a few doves alighted on the roof, I saw a flutter of pink and green feathers amonst the white ones. The intruder dove was back - all the way from where it was released in London on Friday morning!

I know pigeons - and the doves are just white pigeons - have the homing instinct, but somehow, after the fright of being caught and confined, I hadn't expected it to come back. I can't really describe how I felt; immediately nervous and panicky about what it would do. I realised it was a male as it started displaying courting behaviour to the females on the roof.

A group of doves flew over to the island to feed and he went with them, the colours on his tail marking it out in the sky with the others. I wondered if anyone between here and London had seen it and remarked. Then they all flew back and when he positioned himself right at the end of the bit of roof nearest the dove cote I knew by instinct that he hadn't forgotten and had evil on his mind.

I stood without moving next to the end of the shed, my hands on the stepladder and my heart literally in my mouth. I watched the marked dove watching the dovecote, and I knew Hope wasn't in there. He flew down to the cote and perched on the step of one of the other entrance holes, still looking around - probably for Hope and assessing whether he could get away with it. My hands gripped the stepladder but I didn't move. After only a few seconds, it flew to the nestbox and entered. Carrying the stepladder I literally flew, lightly in bare feet, across the lawn, set it up and ran up the steps, I don't know how, my hand going up, fingers outstretched, to block the hole, so it couldn't fly out and away, to come back when I wasn't there. I could hear the frantic squeaking of the squabs, reached in and grabbed it extremely firmly and ran back into the house, and closed the kitchen door. My heart was thumping so much I could hardly speak, but I faintly managed to say my husband's name and he came out to me. I didn't want to do what happened next, but I felt it was the only way to protect the babies. We had given the marauder a chance by taking it to London, and it had just flown back and seemingly straight to the dovecote to attack the squabs - so it had to go. My husband used to work on a farm, and he has reared pheasants and other birds. He despatched it quickly and I didn't watch. You may think this was wrong, killing a healthy dove, but I had to protect those babies.

I felt weak and shaky for about two hours afterwards and had a gripping pain in my lower abdomen - not from the killing of the marauder but from what might have happened to the vulnerable little squabs.

I didn't see Hope again til 6pm and she didn't feed the babies. I was worried that she maybe had witnessed some of what happened, and wouldn't go back to them this time. I kept looking out as the sun was gone, evening approached and eventually, thank goodness she came back, very late, at 7.30pm and fed them, and stayed with them for the night.

So that's the story up to date at the moment. I would love it all to go peacefully and smoothly now, but I don't count on it. The babies are 18 and 17 days old today and need another 10 days in the nest before they will be able to come out and start learning to fend for themselves.

The end

Part 3 - A Night in the Kitchen

Monday 6th April 09


Please read Parts 1 and 2 in the blogs below this one


It was Thursday evening 2nd April and Hope, my mother dove had just flown off at 7.30 pm, leaving the two week old squabs alone in the nest. It was chilly and getting darker and she didn't come back. I didn't expect her to as night fell properly as birds don't normally fly in the dark and doves/pigeons are nervous creatures. It was too late to ring either of my dove mentors - Bob and Dave - although I did email frantically, then I thought of phoning Gill Hunt (who lives in Scotland and has beautiful holiday cottages by the way - do have a look! http://www.westerlix.net/ ) as I know she has worked at the animal hospital in Leatherhead and helped to rear squabs. Gill was extremely kind, reassuring and helpful. She told me that the doves don't have the same sense of smell as mammals and therefore if I removed the squabs for the night, and Hope did come back in the morning then she was unlikely to reject them due to my handling. I knew that Bob handles his squabs because I had seen him pick one up, so I certainly felt that Gill was correct despite my husband warning me that if I did remove them from the nest Hope would never go back to them.


I had previously read up a bit on the internet about the kind of temporary accommodation that the squabs would need, so I made a 'nursery' by putting a small box lined with a rough piece of old towel, and some strands of hay, in a bigger higher sided plastic box. I stuffed the space between the two boxes with hay, and heated my dog's hard round microwaveable hot pad.


By 8.30pm it was completely dark and I knew Hope wasn't coming back. I went out into the garden with my daughter carrying the box and set the stepladder up against the dovecote. 'Aren't you going to wear gloves?' asked my daughter. 'No' I said 'I need to be able to feel properly'. I hadn't got any worry about handling the squabs, but had never held any that small before. I reached in and picked up the first baby. It was surprisingly extremely warm, and I felt sort of grainy through its delicate skin. I vaguely realised that that was it's crop full of food which was a good thing. I quickly popped it into the waiting box, and my daughter placed a few sheets of newspaper on the top. Then I collected the other one, and we went straight inside.


I settled the babies next to each other in the box, for warmth and comfort, and put the hot pad in beween the hay in the section between the two boxes. I put the box next to the Aga, and then worried that the babes would be too hot!


My plan was to get up before sunrise and put the squabs back in the nest so that if Hope did come back they would be already there and she wouldn't fret. Plan B was to take them to the Wildlife Aid, Leatherhead to be reared by hand. I would've loved to do it myself, but don't know how to make the mix of food correctly and adminster it.


After a restless night, and checking on the squabs once at 2.oo am, I got up at 6.00 am on Friday 3rd April and my little babies still seemed well. It was damp, dark and cold still and I was reluctant to put them straight back into the nest. Now my worry was that the shock of the different temperature - Aga-warm kitchen to cold dovecote would be bad for them. I made a mug of tea and kept popping out to see if any doves were around. I'm crazy I know but I also warmed a smooth stone from the rockery in the aga and put it in the nestbox to warm it up a bit! Sunrise had been predicted for 6.20 am that day, and 3 white doves were on my roof by 6.30 am. I didn't dare wait any longer as one of them might be Hope, so I repositioned the stepladder and took the babies, in the box, outside. I put the box on the garden table and took one quick photo.

The babies look quite big but they are actually about the size of my cupped hand. They were in the nestbox, cuddling up to the blood temperature stone, by 6.40 am. I kept watch and about 6.50 am a single dove came down to the lawn to feed. I normally feed the doves on the island but have been keeping some food on the lawn all the time so Hope has plenty of food for herself and the babies. The single dove was Hope and I was so relieved, but watched to see if she would just feed herself or go back to the babies. By 7.00 am she was in the nest and feeding them, and the crisis was over for this time!

Remember the intruder? I didn't know what to do with it and beyond confining it and giving it food and water, I had ignored it. I wondered if we released it somewhere else whether it would stay away, so I made a plan with my husband who works nights in London to take it with him, and release it there in the morning. I marked it with food colouring - the same as I had marked Hope (and Glory) so I would know it if it did come back. The wretched thing struggled so much while I was trying to dab the colour on that the bottles spilt and it ended up with a glorious green and pink tail, like some exotic bird. My husband released it about 8.00 am on the Friday in London, and said it was desperate to get out and immediately flew up into the sky, circled round a few times, spotted a group of pigeons and made its way towards them.

The rest of Friday was normal in my dove world. Hope attended her babies all day and stayed the night with them. 'Maybe she just had a one night stand?' my daughter suggested, laughing. I felt that the new male was pulling her away from the babies and hoped his influence wouldn't be stronger than her urge to feed and look after the squabs.

Saturday, 4th April and after a normal day Hope gave the babies a last feed at 7pm and flew away. I waited til 8.30 pm and then removed the squabs to their box in the kitchen as before, not worrying so much this time as the method had worked before, and put them back in the nest box in the morning. Again Hope came back and fed them.

Sunday something very traumatic happened....... although Hope knew nothing about it!

To be continued.....

You may have to scroll right down to get the comments section. Sometimes this happens on my blogs and I don't know why, sorry.

Part 2 - Intruder in the Nestbox

Sat. 4th April 09

Part 2 - Please read Part 1 in the blog below this one.

Last Thursday the baby doves, the squabs were 14 and 13 days old and all was fine. I was looking forward to taking a photo of them on their 2 week birthday. In the morning I noticed a dove enter the nest box in the dovecote and instinct told me that it was not Hope. I went to the kitchen door and saw that Hope, who was actually already inside, chuck the intruder out! I wondered if it was the same dove who had caused trouble for Hope and Glory a while ago (see Altercation in the Dovecote blog)

Then Hope and the intruder suddenly started fighting on the hedge below the dovecote, whirling and tumbling over and over. I grabbed my camera and took the following photos.

I went nearer the cote and Hope flew up and sat blocking the entrance to her nest, while the other dove went in one of the other dovecote holes.

They kept peeking round at each other and it would have seemed quite cute in different circumstances.

I kept watch and eventually some doves came down to the lawn and Hope went with them and then they all flew away - Hope included. I stayed watching and shortly afterwards a dove went to the nest box and I was pretty sure it wasn't Hope. I got the stepladder and peered inside and wasn't sure what was going on. I took one quick photo.

My instinct told me that this dove wasn't Hope and that it was going to damage the babies; it seemed they were being trampled on. I had to make up my mind and act quickly. My hands were shaking and I was very upset, but I reached in and scooped it out, holding it very firmly indeed. It was feisty and strong and totally resistant to being held but I managed to get it confined in the dove 'hospital' box. It definitely wasn't Hope, being smaller and not having her pink cochineal mark. Leaving the rascal shut up, I went to look at the babies. They were hunched and miserable, facing away from the light, and as far back into the nestbox as they could get themselves, but I couldn't see any definite signs of hurt, and I had been very quick getting the intruder out.

Firstly I got the intruder food and water. I wondered if it was a young male intent on killing Glory's offspring and having Hope for himself, or a young female somehow wanting to take over the nest. I had to go out as I had an appointment and didn't want to let the other people down. I came back more than two hours later, and no doves were around, and no Hope - but that was not unusual for the time of day. I put the stepladder up and peeped at the babies - they seemed fine and had turned around and were facing the light.

I took their 2 week old photo!

By late lunchtime Hope was back in the cote and feeding them, and then she sat calmly looking out of the nest box window. I was so relieved!

Hope may have been calm, but I was not - my insides, ridiculously, felt wobbly all day! I didn't know what to do with the intruder for a start.

Hope spent the day as usual and I saw her feed the babies at 5pm and 7pm, also much as usual. I felt we had got over the crisis point. The sun was going down, it was getting chilly, and Hope seemed settled in the nestbox. I was preparing supper thinking my dramas were over for the day. I had previously emailed my two dove blokes - Bob Friar and Dave Frost, and both had come back with reassuring messages telling me I'd done the right thing by taking the interloper out of the nest. Everyone at Purplecoo had also been extremely kind and supportive.

And then sometime after 7pm, I saw Hope just fly out of the cote, over the roof and away!

It was getting darker, and colder and I had no idea whether she would come back or what to do if she didn't!

To be cont...

The end

Part 1 - Merry Widow

Sat. 4th April 09

Much has been happening but due to my original draft disappearing which was totally frustrating I have decided to blog in bite sized chunks. So here goes with Part 1:

Not wishing to disturb the nest (and not knowing how very disturbing things would turn out) when the baby/ies was 10 days old I put the stepladder up on the path, away from the cote, and took a photo with the camera zooming in. I could just make out two little shapes, so there are two of them, as is usual with pigeons/doves - A pigeon pair! The 10 day old photo is above.

All was well, and Mummy Hope had attracted interest from a new male. He was enthusiastic but she was friendly but cautious.

He bows in courtly manner...... but Hope just runs away

I have not seen them mating, which I am glad about, as I have read that birds will sometimes abandon their babies to start a new nest, or the mother will let the father take over while she gets on with laying more eggs - and obviously this male would not take over the feeding of these squabs as he is not their father.

While the fun and games was carrying on, another dove was obviously eyeing up the situation....

2nd installment very soon.

The end.

First Picture

Friday 27th March 2009





I just couldn't resist! While Hope was off the nest - which is most of the day now! - I got the step-ladder, put it up on the path, and used the zoom to get a picture of inside the dovecote. I didn't want to upset Hope or the baby/ies so I didn't put the ladder right up against the dovecote. With my naked eye I could see a fuzzy, misty little shape in the gloom and the photo shows the little baby, all yellow and fluffy! Yes, I know he's not cute, but I am so happy to see he is well. There may be another one in there too!





So this is the 'one week old' photo

Hope prefers to spend her day sitting on the roof, or flying with her friends. I am always concerned about her safety, and the welfare of the squab/s, until I see her back in the nestbox again.

I have managed to mark her, by flicking food colouring onto her back, and it is helpful that I can recognise her at feeding times.

I am still trying to have no expectations, but after seeing the baby, I can't help it!

The end

Very UN-happy Mother's Day

Wednesday 25th March 2009 Last photo of Glory. I was taking a picture of him to show you the pink colouring on his tail, which was my only way of marking him.

Warning: Sad blog and a couple of sad photos.

On Mother's Day last Sunday, I fed the doves on the island as usual at about 7.30 am. Glory, my daddy dove, was there amongst them all, and I threw him extra, as I do all the special doves that I recognise. Then, as it was Sunday I went back to bed for a bit. How I wish I hadn't. I got up again about 9.00 am and opened the kitchen door. My first thought was that there were petals all over the step, but after that one split second I realised that they were lots of little white feathers and the trail took my eyes to the left and there was a bloodied dead dove lying in a flurry of feathers in front of the coal bunker. I rushed down to the dovecote and was relieved to see a dove inside, but rushing back I was thinking 'Please, please don't let it be Glory!' but of course, it was. His little body was still warm. If only I'd been in the kitchen I might have averted the attack ... because of course it was a hawk that got him. A dove looks very beautiful, even in death, even if it has been violated like poor Glory - the closed eye, the turned up claws, the tragic limpness. I knew it was definitely Glory as I had marked his tail with pink food colouring (see previous blog). I was just so devastated that I was numb, I think. The horrible hawk had only eaten a small part of him - only a mouthful or so..... what a terrible waste. And the mess.... birds have an unbelievable amount of feathers. And poor Hope, how was she going to manage.....

The first egg had hatched out on the previous Thursday. I had been out in the garden, going to and fro from my 'second' kitchen which is a sort of outhouse and has my washing machine in it, and one trip, there was the egg shell, bang in the middle of the path, where it hadn't been a moment before! It was like a birth announcement - We have a baby! I was so happy. It made my day! I carefully picked the shell up and put it on my kitchen window sill. The next day, when Hope came out of the nest box she had an eggshell attached to her underneath, which quickly dropped off and I collected that too and put it with the other one.

So the poor little new baby squabs lost their daddy when they were only 2/3 days old and I was seriously worried that Hope would abandon them.

I didn't know whether I should show her Glory's body - doves do seem to mourn their dead -and I thought she might go off looking for him if she didn't know he was dead. So, in the end decided to put him on the hedge. She came out of the nestbox, but if she saw him she gave no sign and flew to the house roof, relieved herself, then flew down to the lawn, had some food, a quick drink and then back to the nest box - again ignoring, or not seeing, the body on the hedge.


I then removed him and gave him a little funeral, like I do to all my dead doves. Call me eccentric if you like, but I put pretty spring flowers on his body, hiding the worst of his wounds, and carried him over to the island on a flat woven basket. I did shed tears then - it all seemed so unnecessary - out of 40 odd doves, why poor Glory? I stroked his snow white feathers, humming 'All Things Bright and Beautiful' like I always do. Then I put him in the fast moving river to be swept away forever. R.I.P. Glory, my beautiful daddy dove.

I was going away that afternoon for the night, but there was nothing more I could do anyway, except make sure my husband kept an eye out for Hope. What will be, will be, I kept saying to myself as I drove down to West Sussex to visit my mother. Later that evening my husband rang to say that while he oiled the wood table and chairs in the garden, the hawk had made two more attempts on the doves - maybe I'd disturbed it with Glory and that's why not much of him had been eaten. Maybe it was still hungry and that's why it tried again. Both times my husband yelled and threw something at it, and both times the doves got away. It is worrying that the hawk is bold enough to swoop down on the doves even when someone is in the garden - I am a bit concerned about my little dog too! He's only the size of a large rabbit.

I didn't know if one parent dove could rear the squabs on it's own and emailed two dove blokes that I know - one, Bob Friar http://www.everlastingdoves.co.uk/ (see previous blogs) and two, a man called Dave Frost who sells, or did sell, info about doves from ebay, and kindly gives his email address for advice. Both of them were good enough to email back, and I was relieved to hear that one parent dove will rear the squabs alone, and is often successful in doing so.

Bob also told me that Belle - the dove I took back to him (see previous blogs) - has now hatched a new batch of eggs herself and has babies that are approx a week old. I was happy to hear that news.

Currently, all seems well, and Hope is coping, but I am trying not to have any expectations of what will happen next. The only thing I can do for her is to make sure food is readily available.

At my sister's - my elderly mother lives with her - we were walking round her garden and I found a white egg on the grass underneath her big holly tree. I picked it up and it was cold but heavy and only slightly cracked on the top. She was horrified that I decided to open it up, but I am interested in birds and have never had the opportunity before. I cracked the shell away carefully - the poor little minute baby bird inside was seemingly perfect but dead of course. I think it was a wood pigeon - she has lots in the garden, and it had the same shape of beak as the baby doves have. I pondered on why this egg had been turfed out of the nest - poor little thing, it didn't even get a chance at life. It must be better to have some time alive, as a bird, to be free.... even if you do end up in the vicious claws of a predator.

You know the signs that you see on old doors sometimes - No Hawkers? Well, I wish I could get one for my garden - NO HAWKS!

Hope, today, stretching her wings in the dovecote.

The end

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Altercation in the Dovecote

Wed. 18th March 2009

Last Sunday morning I realised that something was wrong in the dovecote, but I couldn't work out what it was. Normally one or other of the parents - Hope and Glory - would be sitting quietly inside the dovecote on the nest. The only 'happening' would be when they swapped shifts, and one went in to let the other out. I'm always glancing at the dovecote when I'm out in the garden, or from the kitchen or sitting-room windows and am happy to see a glimpse of tail or a little face in the gloom, but this time it seemed like a whirling dervish was in the dovecote -whatever that is! I got the camera, despite my panic, and took some photos but I couldn't really see what was happening. There was lots of movements, bits of wing or tail sticking out of the cote doorway, two doves in the cote.... and one dove sitting on the nearby low roof observing.

I called my husband and he went beneath the dovecote and clapped his hands. I didn't want him to do anything really and part of the problem was as Hope and Glory are not ringed I didn't know which dove was the intruder.

It is nearly time for the eggs to hatch and I was thinking why oh why has this happened, just when I wanted everything to go right. I imagined two pairs of heavy 3-pronged feet trampling about in the nest, breaking the eggs..... as Hope or Glory defended the nest.

Suddenly after about fifteen minutes, it all settled down. One dove was on the nest and all was quiet. I still don't know what happened. It appeared to me that there were two females and one male (Glory). This seems strange as I could understand a rogue male turning up and deciding he wanted to take possession of the nestbox, but why would another female want to cause trouble?

Since then, more than three days ago, all has been quiet and the eggs, by my calculation should hatch any day soon. Dove eggs take approx. 17-18 days to incubate.

I decided that, if possible, I needed to mark Hope and Glory. Catching them and ringing them would have been very difficult and would've upset them so I didn't even think of it. The only way was to try to sprinkle them with food colouring like I did the 'cochineal doves' (see one of my previous blogs). I know roughly the times the doves do the changeover and as Glory emerged from the dovecote I kept my beady eye on him, despite the lawn being covered with white doves, and managed to sprinkle some pink food colouring on his tail. Next day I tried to do the same, with green colouring, on Hope, with less success. The pink colouring on Glory spread a little - maybe his tail was damp - but though I got a few tiny drops on Hope I havent managed to spot her in the crowd. One reason for this could be that during the last few days of incubation the female takes over full time and hatches the young. I hope this is what is happening!

So how are my 'secret' doves Nero and Smudge getting along? Well unfortunately, just when Smudge was growing up and entering into an adolescent stage and losing her squab look, she has disappeared. I fear she is dead - somehow I just got that feeling. One day I saw a male after her, pecking her neck, and I think she was too young for that sort of attention, and maybe things didn't go well for her, poor little thing. Here is the last picture I took of her.

Nero is fine, my beautiful black bold boy! I know he is a male as I have seen him displaying male behaviour. Long may he survive and keep visiting me. Here he is with his followers!

And guess what? Columba, my white ringed dove - offspring of my first beloved bonded pair, Pax and Persephone, was spotted on the island at the morning feeding time! I was so pleased to see him again and looking very healthy too. I remembered he came back last year about this time, and checked in my file. I had marked down 'Columba returned 17.3.08' - I blinked and looked twice. It was the very same date - a year later! Columba had again returned on the 17th March - amazing!

Two cute little incidents occured concerning other birds and the doves recently. I happened to look out and see a bluetit perch on the ledge of the nest box. It peeked in, saw Hope on the nest and flew off round to the back of the dovecote. It would be enchanting if a family of bluetits set up home in another section of the cote, but realistically I don't think it will happen. The other thing concerned my robin. I always feed the doves first, and then come back and put some special robin food down for Robs, as I call him - well one day, Mr. Impatient Robs flew over to the island, with the doves, and starting eating the smaller bits of their food with them! He flew into the house the other day, and I caught him by the window and cradled his delicate little body in my hands for a few seconds and touched his head gently before setting him free.

And nothing to do with doves, but when I drove my car up to its parking space just by our river there was the kingfisher right there in front of me - the sapphire of the river, back again this season - thank God.

The End.