When I was small, an injured pigeon was found by my dad. I think he was a racing pigeon, but we didn’t get him re-united with his owner, don’t know why.
He recovered, think it was his leg, we called him Pretty Billy, and he lived happily in our shed at night, and flew around outside in the day. Cannot remember what happened to him, I suppose he went to the Great Aviary In The Sky.
More recently, we used to have a tame pheasant in our garden. We called him Cocky. He disappeared for a short time, when he returned, oh dear, he was limping, all his beautiful tail feathers were missing, he no longer strutted round like a proud cock of the walk. Must have been in a fight. We fed him and kept a close eye on him. Gradually, his leg recovered and his feathers grew back. Sadly, we haven’t seen him for several months now, perhaps he’ll return in the spring. Hope he hasn’t been shot.