Doves...

A few months ago, I came home from work completely exhausted. I wasn't feeling very well that day either. One of our cats, Bella, came dashing inside carrying something black in her mouth. At first, I thought it was just a piece of a bin liner. Then, I followed her. I saw it was a wounded dove. I lifted its wing; it was bleeding. "Oh no," I thought. Of course, instinctual violence is in the nature of every creature, but the thought that my own cats might have harmed one of the doves nesting on our roof completely broke my heart.

I wrapped it in a blanket straight away. I placed it in a small box and put a little water beside it. While wondering what on earth I could do, Google came to my rescue. I found a lady on social media who rehabilitates doves. Even though it was late at night, I put the dove into my cats' carrier, drove out, and handed it over to her.

A few months went by. This time, I came home from work and found what I later learned was a wood pigeon standing completely still by the front door. There is so much we don't know! Through these few encounters, I learned that there are dozens of different types of pigeons and doves. I brought it inside immediately. I couldn't see any visible wounds, but the fact that it couldn't fly was a clear sign that something was wrong. Since I now knew there were people out there who look after these birds, I got in touch with the same lady straight away. This time, she had no space left at her place, so she put me in touch with another woman. Once again, in the dead of night, I hit the road. The young woman arrived with another lady driving the car. I handed over the pigeon I had placed in the box.

Doves have built a nest on the roof of my house. They spend their entire day moving between the garden and the roof. Sadly, they leave their droppings all over the garden. I wash and clean it down with a hose at least a few times a week. Naturally, it tires me out. With all the daily rush, it's an extra burden! I've been trying to find a solution for months. Many of the options I've researched seem like they would solve the problem, but I can't bring myself to take action because I don't trust that they won't harm the birds. Besides, there is a nest up there! What right do I have to dismantle it?

Another complication is that I live with five cats. Hunting is in their very nature, as we know. The doves sometimes fly quite low, and I'm constantly terrified that our cats might harm them at any moment. Even when their bellies are full, they feel an instinctual urge to catch them. You can't reason with animals either! I saw the pure terror in the eyes of both birds I had placed in those boxes. It made me wonder why on earth people poison these winged creatures that bring beauty to our skies, symbolise peace, and inspire so many poems. Is it because of the droppings? Because they view them as pests? Because they dare to land in spaces humans claim as their own?

As humans claim ownership over the world, they begin to view themselves as superior to every other living being. It is precisely this mindset that births the urge to kill and destroy. "If it inconveniences me, I must eradicate it!" Of course! Why should anyone clean up droppings every day? People like me are just fools, aren't we? How beautifully our esteemed writer Yaşar Kemal put it: "Perhaps somewhere, in some hidden corner, there are still a few tender-hearted people left who will buy a bird just to set it free… Who knows, perhaps…"

Poets surely know something profound, otherwise would doves and pigeons find a place in so many of their verses? Since the dawn of history, pigeons have been known as the birds closest to mankind. Ancient civilisations worshipped them. The Sumerians believed they carried messages to God. The Greeks and Romans used them as a symbol of fertility. In later eras, they became messengers during times of war. Yet these birds, who choose to build their homes in our great cities, are now branded by humans as "rats of the sky". Tell me, we know the capitalist system destroys everything once it has finished exploiting it; could it be that humans define pigeons this way simply because they no longer have a use for them? Does anyone remember what happened to those poor pigeons in Kırıkkale last year, in the dead of winter, when they were desperate for a single grain of wheat? Countless massacres by poison across so many other cities...

They had such tiny crops. The poison tore through them, leaving them unable to even flap their wings. Thousands of them fell into the town squares. They became our collective shame! Now we no longer need to sweep away their droppings. Because we have swept away our conscience, our compassion, and our very humanity...