Pigeon whisperer

I saved a pigeon yesterday morning. I arrived at rehearsals and found something of a commotion going on in the reception area. The man who lives opposite the studios feeds the local pigeons with bread, and huge numbers of them congregate on the street outside. One of them must have been spooked, flown into the reception area, and, when everyone started panicking, darted away to the darkest place he could find to hide, which was was the tray in the photocopier above where the paper is stored. The poor thing was terrified.

Now I have great form when it comes to pigeon whispering. I tend to think that animals just want you to stay calm and maintain eye contact, so I went up to the photocopier and chatted with my new friend until he seemed calmer, at which point I gently put my hand into the tray area and started to stroke him gently. He responded well and went into some sort of torpor, which meant I could gently cajole him out of the confined space, eventually to a point at which he sat on my finger and I was able to carry him to the door and let him flap away to the relative safety of the harsh streets of Borough.

Rehearsals went really well yesterday, but for an awful moment at 5pm when we were suddenly informed by the powers that be that we weren't allowed to rehearse on the coming bank holiday, which is a huge set back. Finding out so late, when we'd decided not to rehearse on a Saturday knowing we were doing Monday was enormously frustrating. We ended up being made to feel a little like naughty school children for calling the rehearsal in the first place. The weirdest thing of all is that no one has actually explained to me why we can't rehearse. The theatre industry, in my experience, never stops for anything as pesky as a bank holiday. 

Still. Onwards and upwards. Perhaps three days off will be good for the cast.