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Updated: May 21, 2025
All day long they perched together, billing and cooing to their hearts' content, "the prettiest sight in Venice," as all agreed who saw them. "Coo-oo," he would begin, and she would answer softly. Then they would join in "Coo-oos coo-oo-oo. Ruk-at-a-coo, coo-oo."
You have often seen them walking with dainty steps to pick up their food, and have heard the soft crooning 'coo-oo' they give when talking to each other. They all belong to the Birds that Coo. Their food is taken into the crop, which can be plainly seen when it is quite full.
No sooner did I appear on the path than he flew off the nest with great hustle, thus betraying himself at once; but he did not desert his post of protector. He perched on a branch somewhat higher than my head, and five or six feet away, and began calling, a low "coo-oo."
Their 'coo-oo' sounds very gentle in the morning chorus, and though the Dove often nests in open woods and gardens, it seems most at home in a quiet place near water; for it is very fond of drinking and bathing."
It is difficult to understand why it should keep on cooing so untiringly. Certainly not to entertain us, nor to distract the pining lover it must have some personal purpose of its own. But, sadly enough, that purpose never seems to get fulfilled. Yet it is not down-hearted, and its Coo-oo! Coo-oo! keeps going, with now and then an ultra-fervent trill. What can it mean?
"I suppose babies are all ugly in the beginning, but considering his parentage he ought to come out all right by and by. How long do you suppose it will be before he gets his hair, and begins to be intelligible?" "He has hair now, and he is beginning to speak. He said `Coo-oo! this afternoon quite distinctly. It's horrid of you, Geoff, to call him ugly!
On the 29th, after travelling eight hours through scrubs, we were just about to camp when the shrill "coo-oo" of a black-fellow met our ears; and on looking round we were startled to see some half-dozen natives gazing at us.
The mild smell of the well-kept stalls was lost in the sweet odor of hay, as we mounted a ladder and entered the long garret. The south end was walled off, and the familiar "Coo-oo, cooooo-oo, ruk-at-a-coo," varied with the "whirr, whirr, whirr" of wings, informed us that we were at the pigeon-loft.
The little mother, who was on the nest, had readily learned that we intended no harm, but her peppery little spouse learned nothing; he was just as unreconciled to us the last day as the first. This time he tried to keep out of sight. First we heard his call far off, then a low "cuck-a-ruck" quite near, to which she replied with a gentle "coo-oo" hardly above her breath.
Doves are poetical and pleasing, pigeons ditto in literature, and at a safe distance from one's own barn. It's a pretty sight at sunset on a summer's eve to see them poising, wheeling, swirling, round a neighbor's barn. Their rainbow hues gleam brightly in the sun as they preen their feathers or gently "coo-oo, I love oo," on the ridge pole.
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