Pigeons and Porters.

Each of Cambridge's 31 Colleges and a variety of the University sites and departments have what's called a "Porter's Lodge."  According to my new student handbook the "Porters" (aka employees of the Porter's Lodge) are the "most helpful people you will ever meet."

Porter's, as a general rule, are older men between the ages of 50 and 110.  As a general rule they have incredible facial hair (we're talking mustache-contest-winning here) and a variety of thick accents that seem to come from all over the British Isles.  They have an office at the entrance of each college, including mine--Newnham--and are affable, nice and semi-helpful.

On Friday a pigeon died on the lawn next to the path that I take from my student house to the outside world every day.  I reported it promptly to the Porters.  Since then we've had about 6 of the following conversations.

Me: "Hi, it's me again."
Porter: "Oh, Hello!  Have you come for mail?"
Me: "No.  It's about the pigeon."
Porter: "The pigeon, love?"
Me: "Yeah, the pigeon."
Porter: "What pigeon?'
Me: "The pigeon that died on the NW lawn Friday.  I called it in and submitted a maintainence request, but it's still there."
Porter: "Yes?"
Me: "It's still there."
Porter: "A pigeon?"
Me: "Yes the pigeon.  And what's worse, the magpies have started eating it."
Porter: "Magpies?"
Me: "The nasty black and white birds that make a lot of noise and crap all over the benches."
Porter: "They're not."
Me: "Well they look, and act, like magpies"
Porter: "They're not nasty, and actually it's the pigeons what make a mess."
Me: "The pigeon is dead."
Porter: "What pigeon?"
Me: "The one that's been on the lawn behind the Piele building for four days. "
Porter: "There's  a dead pigeon?  I'll have the gardner get right on it.  I can't say they'll be sorry to see one of the nasty buggers go.  Rats of the sky as they say!"
Me:  "They should really get right on collecting it."
Porter: "What do you mean?"
Me:  "The magpies have been eating at it.  There's dead pigeon bits scattered all over.  It'll get worse the longer they wait.  Besides, the hornets found it this morning, and they'll only get worse."
Porter: "Found what?"
Me: "The dead pigeon that's been on the lawn for the last four days.  And besides, it's begun to smell.  I stopped in yesterday to follow up on my maintainence request from Friday and to let the Porters Lodge know that there was a dead pigeon."
Porter: "Did you now?" (smiling broadly)
Me: "Yup.  But it was just the dead pigeon yesterday, today it's most of a dead pigeon and a large number of dead pigeon parts, and tomorrow it'll be most of a dead pigeon, a large number of dead pigeon parts and a boatload of hornets."
Porter: "What's that now?"
Me: "The Pigeon.  It died.  Hornets, they found it.  Magpies, they're eating it."
Porter: "Well aren't those lovely birds!"

We're on day five, and the magpies have gotten as far as spreading pigeon guts in fascinating patterns on the lawn.

No action appears to have been taken as regards the removal of said bird.