Feral birds help make a house a home.My roommate and I understand the brevity of an outdoor pet.

My roommate and I have become attached to what we consider our apartment pets – two pigeons constantly perched below our window. At first, we were grossed out by the surely infectious pigeon poo that stained the ledge. As the year went on, through the heat and the snowpocalypse, that pair spends no more than a day away from their designated corner. At first, we would jokingly catalogue their prescence. If they were there, we would marvel that they always seemed to be together and if they weren't, we would wonder where they went. It was always a relief when they returned as it became very apparent that the life of a pigeon is neither glamorous or very constant. Anything could happen. 

Our little friends have become a part of the apartment dynamic. From their little diseased perch, they are there when we watch The Bachelor every Monday. They are there when we come home and rant about that annoying TA who clearly didn’t give an essay the grade it deserved, their constant murmuring heard from outside the window. The consistency is pleasing but, in a minute, they could fly to the tropics and never come back.

We no longer hope or wish to see them, it is just expected. Why wouldn’t they be outside on the ledge? And when they are gone, we are still taken aback. But that's what happens when you become comforted by an undomesticated pair of birds. Some would consider it a unhealthy relationship, but knowing the nature of a bird, we are not surprised by their flakiness.  

These pigeons provide temporary company. Knowing we may never see them again, after this year, is okay. The risks of our through-the-window relationship make an uncertain future more comforting. Ambiguity is frightening until you're certain nothing can be predicted.