I always loved the carol “The Twelve Days of Christmas” as a child. It was fun to sing, and a challenge to remember all the absurd but dramatic gifts one lover gave to another. (The Cap’n says an amusing lover’s response to the gifts has toured the Internet and includes an exasperated query about the giver’s obsession with birds, i.e. 23 birds in all!) And turtledoves, particularly, have powerful associations both Biblically and with romantic love.
However, after a recent experience I have been forever disabused of any romantic notions about turtledoves. They are native to the Holy Land, rust-colored, but otherwise no different from the mud hens and feathered rats that plague urban areas of Europe and the U.S.
Until last week, we had a pair of them nesting atop our yunkers (boiler) cabinet on our second floor balcony. When I say “nesting,” I use the term very loosely. What they had really managed to do was collect a few stray twigs, shed a few feathers, and furnish the rest of their love nest with their own droppings. I would never have noticed them at all if they had not occasionally gotten the urge to “clean house”, and knock all their spare droppings onto the floor of the balcony (no doubt to “refresh” their nest with newer ones). I don’t know how many clutches of chicks they had planned to rear in this utterly disgraceful environment, but I hope not many.
After the shocking discovery of this affront to good housekeeping on the balcony where I usually hang my laundry in warm weather, something had to be done. I spent part of an afternoon decked out in grubby clothing, rubber gloves, rags, highly disinfected water, and my government-issue gas mask, removing all signs of these derelicts. I superglued rows of spikes to the top of the cabinet, and then gave the floor of the balcony a thorough wash. After double-bagging the waste (including the rags and gloves) and delivering it immediately to the dumpster, I hope I’ve seen the last of that lot. (Next job: those damned “calling birds” at 4 AM.)
I would never complain about something like this on the Beit Shemesh chat list because there was a militant animal and bird advocate named Ludmilla on there who would give anyone complaining of filthy birds, feral cats, or Palestinian vipers (the reptilian variety) an earful about the animal’s life, habits, and superior right to existence over humans. But on my own personal blog I am free to call the shots, and I’m here to tell my readers, bird-lovers and the bird-indifferent, that under NO circumstances should anyone give as a gift two turtledoves to someone they love.
Their worst enemy, on the other hand…
Shimshonit 
Ye gads! It’s ISRAEL. Can’t you just shoot them? :->