Once there, I tipped the exhausted flyer onto a table and announced: "Die is zeker van één van jullie - This surely belongs to one of you" and persuaded a reluctant local to adopt the bird before smartly leaving.
A sign that winter has done its worst is the start of the solemn early-morning weekend radio incantations of the weerbericht voor duivenliefhebbers - weather forecast for pigeon fanciers, as they prepare to release their racers. A recent event will have made this forecast of even more interest.
On a Saturday morning earlier this month, thousands of Dutch pigeons were released in Flanders for a short race north: het had een ééndagswedstrijd moeten zijn - it should have been a one-day race.
Yet many Dutch duivenliefhebbers scanned the evening sky in vain: honderden vogels kwamen niet terecht - hundreds of birds didn't arrive at the right place - and they're still missing.
No great loss, you might think, until you realise that voor sommige duiven had men enkele duizend euro's betaald - for some pigeons people had paid a few thousand euros.
The Dutch word duif gives us the English dove, used mostly figuratively, as in duiven en haviken - doves and hawks, whereas pigeon from French is used for the actual avian. Which is unusual: the Germanic word in English is often the physical thing, whereas
the French borrowing serves for a specific or figurative use.
Speculation about the vermiste duiven - missing pigeons - is rife. Is het de aswolk? - Is it the ash cloud? Heeft het iets te maken met een verschuiving in de windrichting? - Has it something to do with a change in the wind direction? Or perhaps a type of Bermuda driehoek - Bermuda triangle - has opened up to swallow racing pigeons.
Meteorological offices in both countries have been asked to investigate. In any case, het blijft voorlopig gissen - for the moment it's anyone's guess.
As for the waiting duivenliefhebbers, hope springs eternal: "Sommige duiven dagen plots na maanden op - Some pigeons suddenly show up months later". More likely, they will have landed miles off course, and one or two may now be perched on the sill of an open bedroom window and wondering whether to nestle down on that soft bed.