Hungry pigeons

I'll tell you what...I wouldn't have wanted to be out there on the unforgiving streets today, scratching for scraps on cold stone with only a few straggly feathers between me and the -4 degree winds . Sometimes it's a very hard life being a pigeon. The local gang were sitting around benches in the town centre today puffed up like little blue grey tennis balls.
Nobody loves you when you're down and out.
No wonder they got crazily excited when a little old lady in motorized wheelchair went a'trundlin' up the street scattering scraps of white bread like a munificent millionaire.. Cue ten minutes of feather-flapping frenzy, beaks bashing and necks bobbing until every scrap was gone......