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This journal charts the pigeons i see each day I go to work. I work in a shop, not with pigeons, but they gather outside to eat the food people drop, and I see them often enough to get to know them. Each pigeon of a distinctive colour, which I'll recognise again, gets a name. The ordinary basic grey ones can't have names because they all look pretty much alike.
The first pigeon, the one which started off my interest in the feral pigeons in town, was a white one with sort of speckly black bits on. He had a limp, which got worse and worse. I thought he'd probably die. Then, he started to get better - despite having lost his toes, he started to be able to stand, then hobble, then walk, though admittedly he was a bit wobbly. So I named him Wobble. Now, he doesn't even limp, but the name stayed, and I started to name some of his friends, too.