When Steven Vlaun recounts how his passion for racing pigeons started, his blue eyes shimmer ever so slightly and his grin grows wider.
It is probably the same look he had when, as a 14-year-old boy growing up in New London, he saw his old Italian neighbor, Jack, fly pigeons.
"I remember thinking, 'That is amazing,'" said Vlaun. "How are those birds flying together like that and why are they returning to Jack's coop?"
The teen would eventually have birds of his own. He rescued a small pigeon that fell out of a tree into a flower bed, and built it a cage out of two orange crates. He would get a couple more pigeons, but his dream was to fly dozens of birds just like his neighbor, Jack.
Forty-eight years later, Vlaun is living his dream at his Waterford home.
He converted a 10-by-12 shed and attached a 10-by-12 fly pen to it. The coop houses 14 white racing pigeons, a strain of bird that is bred to travel distances as far as 300 miles together and return back to their coop.
Inside the shed are plastic and wooden perches. Milk crates holding ceramic bowls are used for the birds to nest.
The birds are wary of strangers, choosing higher perches to scout visitors below.
The birds seem to relax when Vlaun gets closer, some going down to lower perches but still keeping a watchful eye.
"The birds do have their own personalities," said Vlaun. "Some are more friendly than others. Some do let me hold them, but I don't handle them too much because it takes the wildness out of them."
Vlaun doesn't fly the birds long distances. In mid-April he releases them so they can fly in groups. He doesn't fly them in the winter because they are more vulnerable to predators then.
The birds exit through a fly trap, a small opening with barbed wire that allows the birds to enter or exit depending on which way it is set.
The pigeons, he said, fly around his house and occasionally go out of sight for 15 minutes.
"They are really smart and go out to scope their territory," said Vlaun.
He says he calls them back by simply shaking a plastic can, which contains the birds' feed, a mix of grains, corn and mixed peas.
As soon as they see Vlaun holding the can, the birds instantly come down from their perches and start cooing. Vlaun bends down and the birds surround him, resembling puppies that wag their tails at the sight of their owner. He sprinkles some feed.
"This is when I pick them up to get a feel for them," said Vlaun. "... to see if they are eating. You don't want them to get too fat or too skinny."
Vlaun also breeds the birds. He plans to start that in March. He leaves straw outside of the coop, which the pigeons will bring inside and place in the bowls they will use to build their nests.
Last year, he bred seven squabs. As soon as all their feathers are in, but before they are able to fly - around three weeks - he starts to train them.
He places them on the landing board, just outside of the fly trap. The birds quickly begin to learn that this is to enter and exit the coop. He also takes the squabs to the curb so they can get of view of the coop from the front.
The birds, he said, start walking toward the coop because they recognize it as their home.
"They have photographic memories, so they will remember that this is where they need to return to," said Vlaun.
He hopes to raise 50 pigeons, each representing a star on the American flag.
"I like to see them all fly together," said Vlaun. "There's something very calming about that. It's just that freedom. They can go off, and when they are ready, they come back. It's just who they are."
Source: Theday.com
