The war on pigeons has gone international. We suited up in Canadian tuxedos and headed north, equipped with traps baited by poutine and butter tarts. Irresistible food to the Canucks. That should work, eh? One by one the pigeons strutted into our traps, the plan worked perfectly. With the northern pigeon population greatly depleted, we made our way back into the lower forty-eight. While the surviving pigeons poured out some maple syrup for their homies, we brewed a batch of maple syrup pigeon porter for ours. Those hosers never stood a chance.