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T battled through successive sheets of icy precipitation as it landed into the city. A sense of dread settled over me during the flight, only deepening as I walked through the terminal. I resented returning to the town where I had spent my youth, after residing on the other side of the world for what had felt like a an age.

After a few days, I headed out to get a my hair cut. My mind was distant, focused on an ocean, when I heard something hit the pavement. I gazed down to see a pigeon on its side, sprawled, and trembling.

The fall occurred just as schoolchildren were filing out from the local grade school and so within minutes a small chorus of youngsters had formed, accompanied by their mothers and fathers. This circle of confused faces looked down at the pigeon, not knowing what to do or say. The kids were more definitive: “Papa, she needs a vet, can we call an animal ambulance?” I removed my jacket, crouched down and gently lifted the pigeon inside it. “It’s okay, dear, the gentleman will look after her!” said one mother with a audible relief. I had turned into the ambulance for this pigeon that had just landed abruptly, against its will, as I had a couple of days prior.

I made my way home, arms held out, with the bird curled up inside the garment.

Little did I know that my spontaneous decision to medivac the bird (the name I bestowed upon my patient) would direct me to a web of Mancunians giving up significant amounts of time to provide not only transport for city pigeons but scans, recovery care, and even “bird rehabilitation”.

I found a cardboard box for Belinda, lined it with an old piece of cloth, and put her inside. Every short while, I’d open the box just long enough for us to awkwardly lock eyes.

Those periods of mutual bewilderment marked my desperate search for what to do next. I phoned friends for advice and one proposed trying social media, where, to my astonishment, I found a bird rehabilitation group, and put in a request to join.

An Anarchic Model

Over 3,000-strong, the group has an anarchic method: someone in Manchester finds an ailing pigeon, a heartfelt post is published, then a comment section “evaluation” follows. If the bird is considered in need of an examination, someone with a connection to a clinic can arrange it; if it needs physio, a “carer” will volunteer to look after the bird.

Rehabbers each have their own finely honed skills, whether it’s setting broken wings or treating wounds. Their significant, collective effort for the pigeons of the city is powered solely by kindness.

Belinda was promptly assessed with neurological problems, likely a head injury, and assigned to a rehabber who would administer pain relief and a course of gentle physio. We never discovered exactly what made her to plummet. I assumed the role of pigeon ambulance once more, boarding the light rail across the city with Belinda in a box on my lap so she could obtain the treatment she required.

Rediscovering Home

After stumbling across this underground pigeon “NHS”, I began to feel much more positive about being back in my hometown. I doubt any of the places I had called home while away could claim anything remotely similar. It also occurred to me that this was not the first time I’d been connected to a pigeon aid mission: almost 20 years earlier I’d seen one fall from the sky into the grounds of my high school. Again, children gathered around the bird, but only one – my friend at the time – had the gall to rescue it and take it to safety.

The aforementioned friend has since died – one of four friends to lose their lives in the years before my departure from Manchester. I came to see that this had been a big part of what had made the return so painful.

Pigeons as Companions

Pigeons have a history as “emotional support” animals, especially in the certain regions. Workers started to raise the birds because they gave them solace and an excuse to gaze up at the heavens between long shifts of underground work. During the economic downturn, workers on the assistance also found solace in pigeons, but keeping them was considered a sign of “despair”.

Nowadays, pigeons are often written off as simple, dirty or a general nuisance. Before finding the rehab group, I had spoken to a vet, who told me: “if you bring that here, leave that in the car park and we’ll put it down.”

That? Not our Belinda. Although not expected to ever soar , she has adapted to her newly earthbound life with grace in a volunteer’s home. Each contented call, often elicited by her favourite snack, vegetables, feels like a demonstration in perseverance and fortitude – and I am forever grateful to her for showing me a different facet to the city I was familiar with.