We found a youngster rock pigeon roosting on our front steps near the welcome mat ( ummm not that welcome Freddie) and eventually took him to the wild animal rehab station in Burnaby. The girl there said that he had injured his wings and couldn't fly, save for a few feet and would have eventually become cat food.
At first we thought he was just being a dorky fledgling taking a break on the steps. After some hours had passed he had not moved that much and seemed dis-inclined to fly. He stayed there all night not eating or drinking water (it was very hot so we put some out) and in the morning we awoke to his piteous cries for his parents. They flew down and stayed near him and kept the very interested crow away. After keeping an eye on him all day, my hubby decided enough was enough and didn't want to listen to an animal suffering and decided to drive him to the rehab clinic. There was a rather humorous game of gently chase Freddie around the very prickly holly bush ( no dummy this pigeon) but we managed to catch him and popped him into a ventilated box.
When my hubby asked what was the most common animal brought into the clinic, the girl replied, "pigeons."