A Black Day
I arrived home from school at about 4 pm one afternoon to find that my pigeons had been stolen, and one of the new chicks had been killed and was dead on the floor of the cage. I was 10 at the time. It was 1952 and we were living at 44 Canning Street, North Melbourne. I loved my pigeons. I had five excellent pairs and they all were good breeders. ...