I threw a lime at a pigeon a few weeks ago.  I hit him square in the back.  The satisfying thud was short lived because he was only startled enough to fly two feet away and then he turned around and landed on a different part of my balcony.  I would have cried if I could have stopped yelling.

What possessed me to throw citrus?  I don’t really know.  The pigeon wasn’t afraid of me, and there was half of a lime just sitting in my glass.  So I threw it.  In retrospect, perhaps it was not my best moment.  But in my defence, the pigeons started it.