Got home from work at 9:15
and there's a pigeon trapped in my fireplace, behind the screen.
I could get it out myself, but I don't want to. It's a-flappin' and a-beatin' its wings and it's filthy from the ashes--not that it wasn't filthy before.
It's a pigeon.
So, who do I call? Animal control? No after-hours.
The sheriff's? They told me to call the Anaheim PD.
The Anaheim PD? Told me to call Animal control's after-hours.
Granted, they're pretty busy shooting disabled people. I've no idea what that story was about. It might have been the most unsatisfying LA Times story in history.
I could get it out myself, but I don't want to. It's a-flappin' and a-beatin' its wings and it's filthy from the ashes--not that it wasn't filthy before.
It's a pigeon.
So, who do I call? Animal control? No after-hours.
The sheriff's? They told me to call the Anaheim PD.
The Anaheim PD? Told me to call Animal control's after-hours.
Granted, they're pretty busy shooting disabled people. I've no idea what that story was about. It might have been the most unsatisfying LA Times story in history.
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