Both girls came into rescue as babies, and both came in with splay leg. It’s a condition of malnutrition: when a growing pigeon doesn’t get the nutrition her bones need, her legs rotate outward instead of straight down, and once those bones set, that’s the shape she keeps. Two birds, same rough start, same permanently unconventional stance.
They have decided this makes them dancers.
Katya is the dark one, near-solid charcoal from crown to tail. Her namesake built an entire career on being the bendiest woman in any given room. Ours skipped the training and went straight to the splits.
Trixie wears the pattern: tawny checks laced across her wings like beadwork on a gown, a scatter of white at the flank, coral-pink legs that go out sideways instead of down. The drag Trixie made a signature out of a silhouette nobody else would attempt. So has this one.
They grew up in care together, and fell in love somewhere along the way. Pigeons marry for life, and these two are married, thoroughly and unmistakably LesbiHens.
What they need is straightforward. A home with soft footing for grip, fleece or folded towels rather than anything slick, food and water they can reach without slipping, and nothing high or narrow enough to fall from. Splay leg isn’t painful, and it isn’t progressive. It just means the world has to be safe and the ground has to be soft.
They come as a set. You don’t book half of a double act, and nobody has ever wanted to!
