If you’ve ever been to Ireland’s capital city, you’ll know about the notorious Dublin seagull. Today, we’re giving you the inside scoop of its rise and fall.
The headlines hit the media every year. Reports of seagulls injuring people, stealing their food, drinking their Guinness, and being generally bold.
We are indeed at war with the seagulls. But what has caused this tension between humanity and the seagull?
We got a bird working inside who got some intel on seagull culture, how they came to settle in Dublin, and why they have an issue with us today.
Read on to learn all you can about the rise and fall of the Dublin seagull.
The early settlers – hopefull BEAKinnings
We had a chance to speak to Steven Seagull of Wingsend, the 46th of his name. Descendant of the Steven Seagull, the first gull to lay his webbed feet on Irish soil.
“My ancestors came to Dublin before there were any of these poxy buildings”, Steven tells us, nodding towards the Poolbeg Towers.
“That’s right, Dublin didn’t even have its name before they arrived. Steven the first was just a humble fishing gull and saw an opportunity in this land.
“He actually named it Gull Island until you lot moved in and changed all that”, he continues, before turning back to continue eating the Mars Bar he snatched out of our reporters’ hands moments before the interview began.
“Ah yeah, King Steve had high hopes for this place and high hopes for the future nestlings in the flock”, the Dublin seagull tells us.
Life in Gull Island – a peaceGULL place
Steven goes on to tell us what a day in Gull Island looked like.
“Now I only know the stories that are passed down through generations, but Gull Island was the place to be. Not a human in sight.
“Sure, King Steve was searching for a new land away from all that nonsense, and he thought he’d found the place, and he did, for a few generations, that is.
“It was absolutely gorgeous”, the Dublin seagull said, choking back tears – or so we thought until we realised that seagulls can’t cry, and it was indeed an indigestion problem following his Mars Bar.
Life of a Dublin seagull today – a far squawk from Gull Island
Steven tells us how he worries for his children’s lives on the streets of Dublin today.
“Before all youse came about with yer rubbish and such, we just ate fish, and we were grateful to get our bit.
“But now, with all these bins about, sure, the kids don’t know what they’re getting. I mean, it’s in our nature to scavenge for food, and yee leave so much of it lying around.
“And sure, once we get a taste for something we like, we don’t know any better. We have to have it.”
The Dublin seagull takes a break from the interview to swoop down on an elderly lady enjoying an ice cream cone with her granddaughter.
What can be done? – have more respect for our seagull overlords
When Steven returns with his newly acquired 99, we ask him what we can do to help ease the tensions between seagulls and humans.
“Well, you see, the thing is, if yee were to cop on and stop feeding us stuff that’s bad for us, we’d probably suffer even more. We’re hooked on chips and chicken fillet rolls now; if you kept that from us, we’d starve.
“The main thing you need to do is to give us a bit of respect. Give us what we want when we ask for it”.
He glances over at the lady and her grandchild, who is now covered in scratches and screaming for help.
“See that ould wan over there? She tried to shoo me off, said I was scaring the child, so I gave her something to really worry about. That will show her who’s boss.”
Steven jumps back towards them, squawking menacingly before returning to us to close off the interview.
“Ah, lads, the swooping and the squawking is just a bit of craic, really. But in all honestly, people ought to have more respect for us. It’s almost as if none of yee realises that we actually discovered this land for you all”.
There you have it. We’re never leaving our houses again, out of respect for our Lord and saviours, the Dublin seagull.
The seagull uprising is, in fact, our own fault. We should know better than to disturb the seagulls in their natural habitat, which is, in fact, the streets of Dublin.