Let's get this sorted. The said Lieutenant was, when bought to me, rather sad and dishevelled. I could not however wring its neck without trying to give it succour and comfort. This I did with sweet words, water and oatmeal (ok readybrek). It seemed to be doing OK as you will see in the pic below. He even flew off the boat a couple of times. Bones didn't think my 'oatmeal' was suitable and gave it something sweet and sticky. It was after this that the Lieutenant started to go down hill. He collapse in exhaustion unable to stand, breathing heavy and eyes rolling. It was when his heart stopped beating I decided it was not snoozing. The Lieutenant, now bereft of life, lay in my hand completely motionless. It was at this point I thought that now might be a good time to practice wringing a birds neck in case I should ever have to do it again. The bird was definitely dead. It was an ex-pigeon. It had ceased to exist. And just in case it hadn't, with a wrung neck it wasn't going to cooing classes anymore. End of.
Apologies to the boys of Monty Python