They tore the tarp apart that I used to cover my storage boxes.
They dumped leaves and pine needles and bits of feathers everywhere.
They crapped and crapped and crapped massive piles of bird shit on every available surface.
They knocked over my deck chair and crapped on that too.
They went too far.
I put out mouse traps. Everywhere.
The first day after I put out the traps and came home, several of the traps had been set off and were broken. I reset them if I could, put them back up, and went inside to drink heavy liquor and hide. The pigeons have given me the shakes. I've never been a brandy or whiskey drinker but a few more days of this and I imagine I'd be downing snifters of the stuff without need for a glass.
Four days since the resetting of the traps I haven't seen any signs of them. The traps are still set. The balcony is still trashed. But there isn't any extra trashing of late. I didn't like putting out snappy traps for the bastards, but I tried everything else and I don't want to die from pigeon disease. They can have the balcony when I move out, in a mere matter of weeks now, but until then they need to not use my space as a toilet.
Every time I hear a noise now, a printer starting at work, the upstairs neighbor showering, I jump up and think I need to go scare the pigeons off. I have damn pigeon PTSD. I have nightmares that they are going to smash through the sliding glass door and peck my eyes out. I'm afraid to walk outside.
Oh, and I've lost just about 10 pounds in 7ish weeks. BAH. I mean, YaY weight loss, not so yay on very slow going. But progress is progress, and I've got that.