People usually give me a look of bewilderment when they see pigeons in my home. Most don’t realise that pigeon fostering is even a thing.
Before 2024, I didn’t know that either. Pigeons are so numerous, yet so invisible. The only times I really paid attention to them was when they perched above my head — mainly to not stand directly under them to avoid getting pooped on.
And let’s face it — they are not as furry and cute as cats and dogs.
But once I started learning about their history with humans, I could no longer turn a blind eye to their suffering.
I’m not a big time animal rescuer, and sometimes the magnitude of our conflict with nature leaves me overwhelmed.
But to the few pigeons that I’ve helped, I’ve made a difference — and sometimes that’s good enough.
If you’re curious about helping animals but unsure where to start, I hope my journey is useful to you.
(Any opinions expressed here are solely my own and do not reflect the position of any organisation with which I am affiliated.)

If the sight of feral cats and dogs tug at your heartstrings (as it does mine), while pigeons in the city evoke a very different reaction, it might be worth reconsidering that distinction.
These common city birds were among the first animals domesticated by humans. They were kept and bred for companionship, message carrying, and food source. As technology advances, humans had less need for pigeons, and they are quietly cast aside — no different from feral cats and dogs.
Through thousands of years of selective breeding, these birds are no longer adapted to living independently in the wild. They are made to be urban dwellers, yet humans have been less than generous with sharing living space. They are called all sorts of nasty names (”rats in the sky”), and are being wrongly blamed for a myriad of malaises.
This is why pigeon rescue is so critical.
At its core, pigeon rescue spans prevention, intervention, rehabilitation, and advocacy. It is to help reduce the suffering induced by human beings on these urban dwellers.
Modern buildings offer fewer ledges, cavities, and protected nesting spots.
Renovations often remove existing roosts without providing alternatives, leaving pigeons exposed to weather, predators, and repeated nest destruction.
This leads to stress, repeated breeding attempts, and injured or abandoned chicks.
Common rescue cases include:
Because pigeons are often perceived as “dirty” or disposable, injured birds are frequently ignored rather than helped.
One of the most common and preventable urban pigeon injuries. Threads, hair, fishing line, and plastic wrap around toes or legs slowly cut into the flesh, causing swelling, infections, deformities, or loss of digits.
Without human intervention, stringfoot often leads to permanent disability or death.
Pigeons are still widely labelled as pests, despite being domesticated animals with a long history alongside humans.
This stigma leads to poisoning, illegal culling, nest destruction, and a general lack of empathy — making rescue work harder and public support more fragile.
Pigeon rescue isn’t one single activity. It exists on a spectrum:
Some people are uncomfortable with egg swapping because the eggs are fertilised, and frame their objection in “pro-life” terms. This reaction is understandable, but it overlooks how urban pigeon reproduction actually works.
Urban pigeons were selectively bred by humans to reproduce frequently. Unlike wild rock pigeons, urban pigeons can breed 8–12 times a year, usually laying two eggs per clutch. This leads to rapid population growth. When left unmanaged, overcrowding quickly deteriorates living conditions, resulting in increased competition for food, starvation, disease, and widespread chick abandonment.
Egg swapping aims to prevent this downstream suffering. By replacing freshly laid eggs with dummy or treated eggs, parent pigeons are allowed to complete their natural brooding cycle without producing more offspring. This reduces the urge to immediately lay new clutches and helps stabilise population numbers over time.
Prolonged and repeated brooding is also not ideal for a pigeon’s health. Continuous egg-laying and incubation place significant strain on the body, depleting calcium and energy reserves and increasing vulnerability to illness. From a welfare perspective, reducing excessive breeding benefits both individual birds and the wider urban pigeon population.
(Searching for eggs within the ceilings of Hauptwache, a busy underground train station in Frankfurt, Germany.)
A neighbour called me one day: there was an injured pigeon in her garden, bleeding from what looked like a cat attack.
We were both at a loss. What do pigeons eat? What kind of first aid does it need? Should we release it? Are we at risk of disease??
After some googling, I found—much to my surprise—a Facebook group specifically set up to coordinate emergency help for urban pigeons.
The moderators told me to bring the pigeon to a place called Stadttaubenprojekt in Frankfurt Sachsenhausen immediately, without delay. So that’s what I did. My husband and I rented a car and drove over with a bulky cage borrowed from the neighbour. By the time we got there, it was already 8pm. The gates were shut and there was not a single person in sight.
Confused, I tried contacting the Facebook group moderator again, who suggested I reach out directly to the operator of the Stadttaubenprojekt. That’s when I realised they had a website — and that they were only open from 9am to 6pm. I tried contacting them online, but didn’t hear back.
As it turned out, I shouldn’t have taken the moderator’s instructions at face value. Instead of springing into action, I should have kept the pigeon safe, observed it, and brought it in during opening hours.
In hindsight, the sense of urgency pushed me into acting fast rather than acting right.
When we later opened the cage, the pigeon escaped. It waddled into the bushes of a neighbouring building and disappeared from sight.
I never found out what happened to it.
My husband and I were walking home from the gym in October 2024 when I spotted a pigeon sitting motionlessly at the side of the pathway. It was covered in blood, dirt, and its own droppings, and clearly wasn’t doing well in the autumn weather. Around it were several takeaway boxes — it looked like someone had tried to feed it.
After my first attempt, I was determined to do better this time. We went home, grabbed a box, and carefully carried the pigeon back with us.
Lorie, as I had begun to call her, was in rough shape. She had an injury at the top of her head; one eye was swollen shut and crusted with dried blood. Her claws were matted with hardened dirt and waste.
After administering basic first aid, I contacted a reputable vet. When they heard it was a feral pigeon, they declined to take her in and referred me to MainTauben. That was my first contact with the organisation.
When I messaged MainTauben via WhatsApp, I half-expected to be ignored — just as I had been during my first rescue attempt, albeit with a different organisation. But that same evening, I heard back from a woman named Nadine, who immediately started guiding me on how to care for the pigeon.
I eventually brought Lorie to a MainTauben rehab station (Alexandra’s), where she made a full recovery over the following months.
This experience helped me see how fragmented pigeon rescue work can be — and how essential specialised networks like MainTauben are.
I decided to join Maintauben as a member. Working with them, I focus mainly on fostering (providing food and boarding) injured or young pigeons that don’t require intensive care.
I always joke that I am running a luxury pigeon hotel, because I can only house 2 at a time and these guys get a big cage, a bathtub and daily flight time. Occasionally they even get to watch bird TV.
I remember the confusion I felt at the beginning of my pigeon rescue journey, and that's why I thought by sharing some resources and my experience here, you will have more confidence in helping pigeons on their own as well.
You might not be changing the world, but you're definitely changing the world for that pigeon.
I want to be very clear about this: whatever I’ve learned or been able to do has been possible because of MainTauben and its volunteers.
Compared to my small contribution, the core team — particularly the board members and the people supporting them behind the scenes — carry the bulk of the work. They coordinate rescues, manage medical care, fundraise, educate the public, and show up day after day, often with very little visibility or recognition. In many cases, it’s not just volunteers, but also their families who quietly absorb the load.
My role as a foster is a small, bounded part of a much larger system. Without the dedication, experience, and persistence of organisations like MainTauben, pigeon rescue at scale simply wouldn’t be possible.
If you’d like to support this work, I encourage you to visit MainTauben’s website. There are many ways to help: through donations, Sachspenden (material donations), or by becoming a member and supporting their work long-term.