Watching the birds in my backyard, I’ve become endeared to the city’s pigeons. Frequent visitors, they’re colorful, strong fliers, uniquely adapted to their environment, and even former war heroes, prized for their homing ability. Pittsburgh City Paper’s own mascot is among their proud ranks — Nellie Fly, named for the pioneering journalist who flew around the world.
City pigeons have become so associated with urban life that it’s easy to forget they’re only one species in a large family of birds — some of whom also live in Pittsburgh.
“People think of the pigeon like it’s that thing on the sidewalk, and that is just not the whole story by any means,” says Bob Mulvihill, ornithologist at the National Aviary.
In fact, Nellie and her siblings belong to the taxonomic order Columbiformes, part of a “hugely diverse” bird family that includes over 350 species of doves and pigeons. Mulvihill explains that ornithologists use the terms pigeon and dove more or less interchangeably, though doves tend to be smaller in size.
City pigeons are classified as rock doves, and after being brought to North America from Europe in the 17th century and domesticated, the species is now considered feral.
“The rock doves [who still] live in the wild on the sea coasts of Europe now look pretty much identical to the birds you’re seeing in Market Square,” Mulvihill tells City Paper. Beyond Pittsburgh, many pigeon species are tropical, and you can see about a dozen of them at the National Aviary — though their relationship to their local counterparts might not be obvious at first glance.
On a recent visit to the Aviary’s Tropical Rainforest, the crowd was most enamored with a Victoria Crowned Pigeon, a ground-dwelling bird that bears little resemblance to the pigeons pecking around Downtown. Native to New Guinea, the Crowned Pigeon is the largest pigeon species in the world, about the size of a turkey. Named after Queen Victoria, the bird also boasts a royal appearance, often mistaken for a peacock. “This beautiful lady with the beautiful blue feathers, fancy hair-do, stunning red eyes, this is Isabella,” said assistant manager of animal collections Sylvia Ronquillo, introducing the “VCP” during a feeding.
Many of the Aviary’s older Crowned Pigeons have monarch-inspired names, with pairs Isabella and Ferdinand, Kate and William, and Mary, the most senior, in her mid-30s, who recently retired to a separate habitat with her sister Patty as a “companion bird.”
A smaller — though no less dramatic — dove flitting in the Tropical Rainforest is the Luzon Bleeding-heart, endemic to largest island in the Philippines. Cousins of the city pigeon, the doves are named for their red breast that makes them appear to be bleeding from the chest. Well-meaning Aviary guests glimpsing the birds for the first time often alert staff, worried that they’re injured.
A pair of Shakespearean-named bleeding heart doves, Hamlet and Cordelia, welcomed a female chick at the Aviary in February.
Ronquillo says one of her favorite things about pigeons as a group is watching them share parental duties, something relatively uncommon among birds.
“[They’re] a family bird,” Ronquillo tells CP. “Mom and Dad both are very devoted partners, devoted parents.”
Mulvihill adds that pigeons are monogamous — another bird rarity — and have a roughly equal division of labor. While female pigeons incubate eggs, both parents share feeding duties after hatching, with male pigeons taking over care once young fledge and leave the nest, allowing their partners to rest and recover.
“The female just kind of goes to a spa … has a little time for herself,” Mulvihill jests.
Also a far cry from our city birds are Nicobar Pigeons, which sport iridescent feathers over their shoulders a la an Old Hollywood coat. They nest in the trees of the Aviary’s Tropical Rainforest — where at least one Nicobar Pigeon was visible at eye level.
Nicobar Pigeons are the closest living relative to the now-extinct Dodo, and in this way, Mulvihill says, serve as ambassadors for the importance of their species. Given their ability to digest grains and fruit, pigeons are “big-time seed dispersers”— so much so that the Dodo’s extinction caused a tree on its native island of Mauritius to also die off after the bird could no longer help disburse its seeds.
“[Pigeons] provide a vital role in distributing plants across the tropical forest, and in some cases, there may be plants that really have no other species that efficiently and effectively prepares their seeds for germination,” Mulvihill tells CP.
For those wanting to see another colorful, tropical pigeon, you can also catch pink-headed fruit doves, hailing from Indonesia, perched in the high trees of the Aviary’s Wetlands habitat (Mulvihill recommends taking binoculars to view them close up).
Pigeons in general are distinguished from other birds by their digestive anatomy and by feeding their young a special substance called “crop milk” instead of insects or seeds — a trait they share only with flamingos, a “flamboyance” of whom also live in the Aviary’s Wetlands.
“Pigeons [and flamingos] are actually rather closely related, go figure,” Mulvihill says.
Though our city pigeons are abundant, about one-third of pigeon and dove species are considered threatened, largely due to habitat loss. Human development of pigeons’ territory, especially in the tropics — often to produce palm oil — displaces wildlife and communities and decimates forests.
CP readers can help, Mulvihill says, by switching to bird-friendly coffee and shopping for sustainable palm oil products.
As for city pigeons, though some may find them a nuisance — and Mulvihill advises against feeding them — “they’re very endearing little things to have.”
“The people, you know, the cool people love pigeons,” Mulvihill says.
This article appears in May 8-14, 2024.
