The seagulls on the island I live on are the size of healthy, well-fed cats. I am not kidding you. They are freaking gigantic. As adults they have these beautiful, lily white feathers that lay smoothly across their fat bellies and their babies soon become gigantic, grey things that NEVER SHUT UP. Never EVER. These “chicks” have the kind of annoying squawk that can send otherwise sane individuals out of their homes in the early morning hours, sporting frilly pajamas and screaming bloody murder into the air with some violent fist shaking action.
But the fact that they seek out each other’s company when they hang out around the docks is kind of endearing.