As we were showing our friends around the garden I went to admire the pink roses that are tucked away behind the laurel bush.  In front of the fragrant flowers was the carcass of a pigeon and on a severed leg was a blue plastic ring with numbers printed on the band.  A homing pigeon?  I dreaded the thought.  And out of the bushes slunk Mack.

With heavy heart I put the number and prefix into Dr Google and discovered that this was a registered Irish pigeon and discovered the name of the owner.  A message was sent and my details logged and I await a difficult telephone call.  Poor pidge.