It was back in 1965, and I was walking on a brick road on my way to this lovely, delightful pastry shop called "God Wants His Money Back", when I first met Quinn, a pigeon who had emigrated from Dublin to California, only to learn -- upon seeing Valencia orange groves -- that he had a fear of citrus. So he moved to New Hampshire, and took up residence outside of God Wants His Money Back, because the pastries were actually quite terrible (I only liked the shop for its carpeting), and people would typically throw them out after purchasing them. It was a veritable feast for pigeons, and Quinn grew to quite a hefty weight, lumbering like a rolling pumpkin to God Wants His Money Back from the town park. I took Quinn under my wing because he needed a personal trainer (and also because I too, fear citrus, and this gave us a commonality which we share to this day) and we've been happily paired ever since.

My funniest Quinn story? For lunch, I once purchased a Galician Stuffed Pastry from God Wants His Money Back, and Quinn went back into the shop to complain about the lack of a European in his pastry! He also started the Rose Revolution in Georgia, though that turned out to not be as funny a story as we had both imagined.