westy

OH MY GOD!!!!

i saw crows before went to get the cam but when came back they were gone

i know westy with his feathered legs

Yes thanks silverwings.

speight it had mainy racers and a few fancy pigeons

yes i agree the birds thay had were lovly they should of made it bigger.

baskets short for a swear word

wayne why not try to get some land on a alottoment and see if you can race from there

will watch it.

WHO ME?

sorry to here it m8, baskets your neighbours are, are there many fanciers in your area.

well have a pair of sprint cross distance will se how they do in yb racing

thanks jimmy sound complicated would not try it anyway just wanted to know what it is so i can impess my dad ;D ;D ;D

was there an hour very small and busy very dissapionted to be honest had some nice birds there saw silverwings if you never went you never missed much.

JUST VIEW SCORE BOARD ON GAME AND THE HIGEST SOME ONE GOT WAS 999999999 IMPOSSIBLE

NOW NOW CLOKIE!! A BIT HARSH

WHAT IS THE BULL SYSTEM?

yh sue dont worrie about it. we was thinking about wedding releases thats why we got them.

see you there ray

had a quick look will read properly later

GLAD TO HERE YOUR BACK GET WELL SOON M8

yep it is normal as westburyloft has got one i would love to have one myself.

"The Prize" By Larry Samp Sent away from her home for the twentieth time She thinks without a stir They are white and hard and filled with life They mean everything to her It's dark in the crate, there's no way out She's among strangers now She thinks with her heart to get to her eggs With her mind she figures how She'll fly so hard when she gets loose She knows just where she'll go It's by the lake and over the hill And the mountains lined with snow Then through the farms and by that post Where the hawk always hangs out There will be no quit in this little mom Her babies are trying to get out The sun is new and the air is fresh But she's six hundred miles away When she gets home, if her eggs are hurt There's gonna be hell to pay After fourteen hours, a drink from the lake And a chase from the hawk on the post She flies through the trap and into her nest To the prize she wants the most "HEART" By Larry Samp He's in a crate with strangers around But he knows what it's all about When the seals are cut and the doors released He'll take the familiar route. His family's been good, his Dad's in stock His Mom has bred well too But his future is cloudy, a lot rides on this race He's got a job to do. He is older now, but he's on the edge With results both good and bad A poor race today might end it all But with a good race, he'll join his dad Pigeon racing is a strange type of sport But there is one thing I know It's the only event that you pay a lot And don't get to see the whole show The finish line is not all that counts But it's all that most can see It plays a large part in who goes or stays To make up the family tree Now back to the cock I was speaking about He's now way in front of the pack He's heading home and in the lead But the sky is turning black While the rest drop back and take different routes The cock decides to push on The wind and rain are in his face But the race is his to be won He's giving his all, he's fighting strong winds His muscles are getting sore But when the others would quit or just slow down He gives just a litle bit more He's getting wetter as he flies a straight line The others have gone around He tries his best to stay in the air But he's getting close to the ground All at once from out of the dark It hits him in the face A wire, it hurts, he's got to go down But maybe there's second place He's hungry and hurt, it's getting darker He's scared and soaking wet The others are home, their race is done But his isn't over yet A cat comes close, he's back in the air Even an owl gives chase But the cock thinks of home, his nest and his hen Maybe there's still third place He's hurt and tired and flying slow But thinking of his hen He picks up his speed and heads for home Maybe he'll be top ten He lands on the board and runs through the trap He's hurt, he's tired, he's thin And startled as he looks around His race mates looking back at him He thought he won.....well maybe not But at least he gave his best The spirit in the heart of this little cock Was more than all the rest The others were fresh and came home first But who really won the race? This tired cock is worth a lot more Than the trophy for first place It's the guts of the race and the guts of the bird That most of us can't see Good muscle, and feather and wing are nice But the heart matters most to me The hardest part of racing birds Is choosing who's good or bad But when you have a bird with this much heart He should go along side of his Dad taken from http://home.frognet.net/~marks444/poem.html

welcome chris

and i did clockman