There's a pigeon in my kitchen.

I've left my kitchen window open for the last couple days. It helps the ventilation in my apartment, and it's my low-tech air conditioner. A few minutes ago I was working at the computer, and I heard rustling. At first I thought it was the neighbors in the hall, but it didn't have that through-the-door deadness.

And it was getting restless.

Being naked (tmi-tmi-tmi), I decided that pigeon-herding was, if not a formal affair, at least one that warranted jeans and a shirt, so I went to the bedroom and got dressed. This is not the first time I've been called to this task, though the first time in seven years, the first time in this apartment.

The broom is in the kitchen. Damn.

I peek around the corner. No pigeon. I look up, in case it was an ambush from the top of the cabinets. Nada. I hear a rustling coming from a bit deeper in the kitchen.

I creep through the doorway far enough to get the broom. My kitchen is very close quarters, so there's no place to retreat (for either of us) once the confrontation began. I also grab the 5 D-cell maglight. I peek behind the fridge.

No pigeon.

I creep around toward the back of the kitchen, and the rustling stops. I'm pretty sure he's wedged between the fridge and the stove.

I back off, just outside the kitchen door, and wait silently to get a read on him when he moves again. It takes about two minutes before the rustling continues, slowly...

I creep back into the kitchen, setting down the broom, flashlight at the ready. I pull away the window curtains so he'll have no trouble finding the way out. I peek between the stove and fridge.

Nothing.

I look on the far side of the stove. Nothing... and silence...

I stand there, waiting, and in a few moments the rustling, softer, continues.

God only knows how, but I think the pigeon is inside my oven.

So I did the only thing you can do when you find out that an errant pigeon has workd its way into your oven.

No! Not that! How could I do that? I mean seriously; my oven doesn't even work.

No: I crept out of the kitchen, sat in front of the computer, maglight in my lap, and blogged it.

Okay, I'm going back in.